Welcome to the Club

Thursday October 22 2009

I didn't realize it at first, but after I fell off Kazam and busted my rib, I became a member of an elite group. Tim Floyd let me in on the secret at the Owyhee Canyonlands ride when I told him why I wasn't riding. "Oh! Welcome to the Broken Rib Club!"

I'm sure lots of people break ribs, but a LOT of endurance riders are members of the Broken Rib club. I can't count how many times, just during the week of the Canyonlands ride, I heard, "Oh, (roll of eyes) been there done that, don't want to do it again!" "I broke 4 ribs!" "I broke 2." "I broke 3 ribs and punctured a lung!" (Note: the Punctured Lung Club is an E-LITE club, one I don't aspire to.)

So you can see why, instead of going to the doctor, I consulted my numerous endurance friends who have dealt with broken ribs, for advice. (Karen B said, "Gee, I don't know whether to be "honored" about being a broken rib consultant or not!")

Best most optimistic scenario for being able to ride again as usual without causing more damage (if I don't go out and fall off and re-break it - or go out and do a dumb thing again like ride an ATV on a bumpy road) is 6 weeks.

Which would just about fit the 2-day Hallowed Weenies endurance ride just down the road at the end of October right neatly into my schedule. That's almost 6 weeks. It's been a very difficult 29 days so far, turning down rides, watching people ride off and have fun without me. That's about as bad as the pain itself. (I can feel sorry for myself so very well, don't you think?)

But meanwhile, through the peevishness of sitting on the sidelines, I've rested enough so that the acute pain has gone away. Now it's more like a butter knife against my insides at certain times instead of a Buck Knife all the time, and I don't have trouble sitting up. It's mostly just twisting now that gives me the most problems. I'm always mentally calculating and measuring everything against, "Well if I'm riding and a horse stumbles, or spooks, how will it feel?" The answer now is, Not too bad.

And so my rehab has started. Besides warm water therapy, massage and herbal liniment, now I've added sit ups, and today, hiking. I went on an hour hike (with one little hill), the most I've done since I broke the rib. My lung hardly felt anything from heavy breathing.

Actually I will probably cheat a bit early, get on Stormy for a little ride on Sunday (special day, his half-year birthday more or less), so that's almost 5 weeks. That should be good enough, shouldn't it? I should be fine, as long as I don't fall off again (unlikely with Stormy).

You don't get extra credit or a promotion in the Broken Rib Club if you rebreak your rib or add some new ones. And Lord knows you people don't want to hear any more weeks of whining from me, so I'll be careful.

Dust

Tuesday September 22 2009

When you see a line of dust in the sky from horse hooves out here (and boy is it dusty now), it makes you look up and wonder who's running, and what's going on. When you see a line of dust, then two saddled, riderless horses running full out back toward you, you think, oh $H*T! What's going on!

That's what Steph and John and Connie thought when they saw Kazam and Suz, the two riderless horses - ridden by me and Carol - running back to the house. Oh $H*T!

That's what Carol and I said - after we gathered ourselves up off the ground - and watched our horses disappear in the cloud of dust toward the house: Oh $H*T! What are they going to think!


I hadn't been on green Kazam in three weeks. Carol hadn't ridden slightly green Suz much the last 2 weeks. We went out for a ride. Kazam was fine, trotting along in front. I was yakking away, not paying a whole lot of attention; Carol was following me on Suz, trying to listen to my story. (It was a good story!)

Kazam put on the brakes to sniff a pile of poo. I let him. I shouldn't have. Carol was too close and couldn't stop Suz in time and she bumped into Kazam's butt. He freaked. He leaped up in the air, all four feet (Carol said), must have unhinged my feet from the stirrups, and he whirled around. I lost my balance and was hanging on. If he'd'a stopped, I might have hung on, but he was freaking out, seeing and feeling this human on his side and neck and thinking the jaws of life had just clamped onto his butt, and I thought - no way I'm going to be able to push myself back into the saddle, I'm outta here! So I let go the reins and launched from him, graceless and as far away as possible from a hind foot that might might kick out (in one's face, perhaps).

SLAM!

I thought I hit pretty decently, on my right side-back I think, but, dang, the ground is awful hard these days, and apparently, I don't bounce so well anymore!

Worst was I saw Suz freaking out because Kazam took off toward her; she backed up in a panic and I saw her and Carol both sort of fall over and go down. Oh $H*T!

We both got up slowly and gingerly - but quick enough to see two horse butts disappear over a little rise toward home, dead run, dust exploding high into the air. Another Oh $H*T, we hoped the reins didn't get tangled on something, and oh dear, that was going to freak everybody out!


Carol was up and walking, bruised and scraped, but I couldn't quite straighten up - had to stay bent over and catch my breath a moment - two moments - several moments. Dang!

Sure enough, as we started walking slowly back, here came a cloud of dust toward us - Steph hell-bent-for-leather on the ATV, followed by Connie in her car in another cloud of dust. We had just been talking to Connie on our horses, and when we left her, she had started walking up toward the house. She'd seen the two horses run past her, and she took off running up the road toward us in a panic - she almost punctured a lung running for her car! They didn't know what they would find.

Carol got a ride back to her house with Steph - because Suz had run all the way to her house, and Rick would be freaking out - and I got a ride back to the house with Connie. The right front of my ribcage was hurting a bit and I still felt winded, you know, like I'd had a hard blow, though my lungs were working fine.


So, what's the first thing I do? Not go to a doctor - I get back on my horse. John had already unsaddled Kazam, but I resaddled him, Carol had already walked back with Suz, and we got right back on and took them right back out on the trails, to make sure they weren't still freaked out, and so they'd know that getting rid of riders doesn't mean you are done with your work for the day.

What's the second thing I do? Not go to a doctor - I call and email two endurance riders who I know 1) rode with broken ribs at Tevis (and ruptured her spleen a few weeks before the ride!) and 2) broke her ribs and punctured her lung when she was riding with us.

I can feel with my fingers where one or two ribs are caved in (which I reckon means they are broke), and I know what cracked and broken bones feel like (and this feels just like that) but I don't think my lung is punctured. I can still breathe in and out deeply, though I reckon it hurts quite a bit, as it does when I'm NOT breathing - I'll see how I feel tomorrow ... which I reckon will be Not Good.

I decided I'd take tomorrow off from riding. Someone told me I'd be taking a lot more than tomorrow off. What timing! The 5-day Owyhee Canyonlands starts in one week!

So now I sit, glad it's nothing worse but still a bit miffed at myself, taking Ibuprofen and icing my ribs, doing some TTouch methods that yet another endurance friend recommended for healing, and wondering what the record time for healing a broken rib or two is.

It better be quick!