I’ve been preoccupied recently with moving my mother into a small town home about twenty minutes from my house. Yesterday, since I was also on standby for jury duty, I decided to exercise Lily in the morning before calling at 11:30 to see whether I had to go in for the afternoon.
Lily was a little full of herself since it was thirty degrees cooler than it had been the previous day. However, she fairly cooperative so I wasn’t too worried. Then a big noisy truck went by and Lily jumped three feet in the air. I went a lot higher and was not square over her back when I came down. I hung halfway on for what seemed like a long time, before I hit the ground.
I lay groaning (in an embarrassing fashion) on the ground for a while, trying to figure out what was hurt, and already starting to worry about the jury duty. I quit moaning, and very cautiously rolled to my feet, supporting my back as I got up. My trainer came over and said I had broken my stirrup. Lily was standing quietly a few feet away. No, I said, the safety release feature of the stirrups, purchased after I had badly strained an ankle coming off of Hap many years ago, had given way. In approximately ten years, they had never released before. That had probably saved me another strained ankle, if not a broken leg.
I was feeling fairly good at that point, then took a step and cried out. Something was very wrong in my lower back. “I don’t think I can get back on,” I told my trainer, and she gave Lily to her working student to longe and put away. My trainer asked me if she call 911. I was appalled at the idea. She asked me if I wanted to go to the emergency room. I didn’t want to do that either. I told her I wanted to see what rest, ice and aspirin would do and hobbled into the house. My trainer had three very young, inexperienced riders for her camp, so she couldn’t hover over me, which would have been her usual course of action.
I have always been a wuss about pain, and was feeling very sorry for myself. I felt a little less stressed when I called the jury duty number and found out I had been excused from my obligation and was no longer on standby. I left a very tearful message for Jack on his answering machine at work. By the time he called back, I had no desire to drive myself home, so he said he would come and get me.
By then my trainer was back in the house, strongly of the opinion that I ought to see a doctor even if I didn’t want to go to the emergency room. The pain was getting worse, despite rest and ice, and by the time Jack got there, I was starting to consider it since I hurt both sitting and laying down. I couldn’t face the wait in an emergency room, so Jack called the medical practice he goes to, and they gave me an afternoon appointment. I no longer have a doctor, due to insurance plan changes, and not having needed one for several years.
The ride to the office was an ordeal, since there was no way I could find a comfortable position while seated. I filled out the paperwork standing up at the doctor’s office. I was impressed that I didn’t wait very long in the waiting room.
I describe the fall to the doctor, and how both my trainer and I thought I had been hurt getting hung up as I came out of the saddle, and not when I hit the ground. He decided I didn’t necessarily need xrays, and prescribed a muscle relaxant, an anti-inflammatory, and a pain killer.
Within an hour of taking them, I was able to lay comfortably in bed and read. I was no longer gasping at every unwary move that used my lower back. I took another muscle relaxant and pain killer in the middle of the night, and woke up almost pain free this morning.
I feel good enough now to go out and do stuff, but Jack thinks I need another day of rest, and my mother thinks I shouldn’t be driving until I get used to the drugs. I suppose they have a point.