On Friday, I had a great time riding our new horse, Ruby. She is a 13 year old quarter horse, and a total sweetie. She is seriously the most gentle, easy-going horse you could imagine. I rode her for several hours, and took both boys for rides. Ruby also stood perfectly still for about 15 minutes while mom and I took turns snapping pictures of the boys sitting on her.
Labor Day weekend in my hometown is always the weekend of the Jamboree. It's a small town festival at its best with loads of entertainment, food, and rides. That night we went in town to watch a concert played by a band that we followed around like groupies when I was growing up. It was super fun to get to see them play again, and to take the boys. Saturday morning was the Jamboree parade. My dad was driving a queen contestant in one of his cars, and Owen got to ride along in the passenger seat. He thought that he was pretty hot stuff getting to ride in that car. He also didn't mind that a cute girl snuck him candy for the entire length of the parade.
Saturday afternoon, I decided that I would go out to work with Dream, (our first horse). She has been slightly crazy since we got Ruby, so I thought that I would give her some exercise and something to concentrate on besides the fact that there was a new horse stealing some of her attention. Before I went to get Dream, I saddled up Ruby so that Owen could ride her. I got her gear on, plopped Owen on her back and sent my dad along to lead her around.
I had just got back to Dream's lot, and started lunging her when I thought that I heard Owen cry out. I figured that there wasn't anyway that I could hear him since he was clear up in the front yard and I was out in the back pasture, so I tried to put it out of my mind. A minute later, I saw my dad racing back to the pasture on the cruiser waving his arms frantically. I knew. I knew before I ever heard the words, Owen had fallen off the horse. The first words out of my mouth were, "Is he okay?" My dad said that he wasn't sure, Owen was holding his wrist and crying.
I unclipped Dream, ran to the cruiser and raced up the barn where my mom was holding my poor baby. He was still holding his wrist and crying that it hurt "really bad". I took him and started doing the "Can you move this? Does this hurt?" game. He was able to move his wrist, and hand, but it appeared to be a bit swollen. I decided that I'd rather go get him checked out at the ER than take any chances of it being broken and not knowing.
We loaded the banged up little guy into the Jeep and took off for the nearest hospital. On the way there he told us repeatedly that he didn't want to go and that he definitely didn't want to see a doctor. I was dreading how badly he was going to freak out once they started looking at him or doing X-rays.
Once we got there, he turned into a different kid. He was the bravest, toughest little guy that you could imagine. He handled everything they did like a champ. He giggled all of the way through his CAT scan (a precaution, since he had hit his head), and was super cooperative for his wrist X-rays. Every person that worked with him in that ER was amazed by what a fantastic patient he was. After the verdict came back that his arm was indeed broken, everyone was even more impressed that he was handling everything so well with a broken bone. One nurse even deemed him "Patient of the Year"! They fitted him for a temporary splint that would keep his arm stabilized, but allow for the swelling to subside before applying a fiberglass cast. He left the hospital with pain meds and an antibiotic to make sure that he didn't get an infection in his mouth where his tooth punctured his lip. He never even complained of pain once after they got the splint on.
When we got back to the house, he was ready to go out to the barn and do the evening chores for the horses. He helped carry the water, fed them their grain, and gave them treats. He wasn't scared of them and realized that what happened was just an accident.
What happened was that as Dad was leading Ruby through the front yard, an underground tile broke and she fell about 1.5 feet into the ground. She pitched sideways and Owen just couldn't hold onto the saddle. He fell right beside her foot, but she stood frozen on the spot until Dad picked up Owen and led her back to the barn.
Today, I was able to get him in to see an orthopedic doctor that put him in his full cast. He was again a totally awesome patient. The nurse there asked him if he'd give lessons to the other kids on how to be a good patient. He was giggling most of the time that she was applying his cast, and he had her cracking up as she worked. One time he looked at her with a totally straight face and said, "I'm doing a really great job with this." She about cracked up laughing.
So my little man has his first broken bone and his first cast. It's neon green and he couldn't be more proud of it. He's pretty excited to let all of his friends sign it. I also made him several slings from fun fabrics so he loves wearing those as well. It broke my heart to see him hurt, and it's so sad to peek in on him trying to sleep with that big hard cast in his way, but he's such a tough little guy-I'm super proud of him.
No comments:
Post a Comment