Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Invalid Update Part Deux

It is said that two thoughts run through a horse's brains: suicide or homicide.  I concur. 
I believe the riding lessons 35 years ago were my parents' attempts to get me over the hump of their divorce.  They cursed me with a lifelong affliction to which I hope there is no cure.  I've been kicked, thrown, crushed, dragged.  Two horses tried to decapitate me.  Angus, yes, the big 2000 lb brute I love the most, he almost succeeded 10 years ago.  
Double herniated discs in my neck.  That was expensive and painful. I had a wreck with Opal and Indigo that left me with broken fingers, nice gashes and wicked road rash.

I have a sister in Oklahoma who can hardly finish telling stories of broken bones and being knocked out because she's bent over laughing hysterically.  With over 40 head on her farm, she's pathologically afflicted! A few months ago, when Angus spun around in his feeding pen, crushing me up against the fence, with his big butt on me, I figured I was in for an inglorious death... until the boards gave way and I fell out and down a few feet into the sand.  I couldn't wait to tell my coworker of the funniest thing that just happened to me.  
Ten years from now, my sister and I will be wearing our helmets, eating our Jell-o with sporks, squishing it through our teeth and laughing like hyenas.  

Meanwhile, my daily job has me baffled at a horse's fragility and its resurrection powers.
Take Henry.  

He's plugging right along now after skirting death by mistletoe 2 months ago.
His pasture mate, Chance, ran out of luck this past weekend.  He went from galloping back for supper on Saturday night, to this by Sunday morning:

Some superficial wounds point to a battle royale with Henry overnight.  Just because they're geriatrics doesn't mean they've lost their ability to kick.

When I tried to lead him back into his stall, he fell over.  And you know what they do with racehorses with broken legs, don't you?  That was my fear while we waited for our vet to arrive.

So, I decided to be ready and finish some fencing around the spare grave we keep in the horse cemetery.

Meanwhile, Chance had limped away and was marooned in the middle of the field.  Room service was provided.
A dozen X-rays later, Dr. Brown reveals that an old injury has been reinjured, yet no fractures or breaks to be found.  Flynn, who held the plate, is still glowing with radiation.  Taking one for the team.  Chance is showing improvement.
We cater to their every need, fuss over their nutrition, all we ask is that they not act like morons.  Too much to ask apparently.

They even get better dentistry work than I do.  What can you do but love them!
And I love this one too:

At Day 7 post surgery, he ate a hole in his cone and pulled some staples out.  That meant recovery time was over.

Not like he ever acted like he'd had surgery.  He only missed one day of work.  His job: destruction.

And he's overzealous. However, I am detecting a slight improvement in his demeanor.  

He's an octave lower on the hyper scale.

I'm even breaking out the good bed sheets, hoping theses don't get remodeled by his Bubba teeth.
On my day off this week, I'm taking my canine trio, Bubba teeth and all, on a road trip.  I've been cleared for driving (not that I had followed that restriction anyway).  But, I didn't like to drive following my eye surgery because it was mostly guess work.
When I returned to the eye clinic, I declined to see the surgeon and went back to my doctor.  Dr. McFayden spent 20 minutes with me  going over every detail and explaining everything thoroughly.  Few are the doctors who will do that anymore.
I couldn't understand why my vision was so much worse post surgery.  I've had this shadowing around everything before.

And believed it was a clarity issue. Turns out it was optical nerve damage (re: past horse related injuries).  When the new lens was put in, my brain couldn't realign the double image, so it gave me separate superimposed images.

Imagine this for two months.  This is exactly what I was seeing. Dr. McFayden gave me a trial lens that has already corrected the double vision. It's much larger than your normal contact, you can see it on my eye and I can feel it's there, but I don't care.  I can see!  This trial lens has no correction for near or far sightedness, my custom lenses will.  Then, by George, then I'll be back in business.  
For now, I'm happy enough with the loss of my double vision that I'm daring to hit the road.
ROAD TRIP!!!!