Two blues and a red for R and Dakota!

Dakota was wonderfully well-behaved and cooperative at his very first dressage show (R's first dressage show, too)!

The show was held at the barn just around the corner -- about a seven-minute-walk across a field away. R walked Dakota over in hand, and I loaded up the tack and drove it over. Dakota actually boarded at this barn for a few days when he first arrived in Texas. I didn't really expect him to be silly since he knew the barn and arena, but the weather went from 85 yesterday to low 60s and very windy today, and you just never know. He walked over like a gentleman. R arrived with him right when they had a break, so she was able to walk him in the arena for ten minutes. He called to every vaguely bay-looking horse to see if it was Clair, but he was by no means frantic about it. He just missed his Clair. Then we had a bit of a wait until R's first ride. Dakota was very patient--he is just so sensible.

Intro A went very well. Dakota was a little fussy with his head, which is a thing he has been doing a bit more as R has been asking for more prompt canter departs. Dakota has started anticipating canter--a completely normal stage. He wants to show off this new thing he knows! It was still a very respectable test; he was quiet and obedient. We were all thrilled with his debut: 65% and blue ribbon!

Intro B was beautiful. R rode Dakota a little more forward, and it was just so fluid and pretty. 68.75% and blue ribbon!



Intro C has canter, and Dakota is not super confirmed just yet. Right lead went fine, but left lead didn't happen. The trot work was once again superb! 62% and red ribbon! By the next show, the canter will be there, and I'm sure R and Dakota will start training level. I'm so proud of them!



I had my gallbladder out on Wednesday and was told no riding for two weeks. I'll probably give it ten days.

Two for two

Prior to yesterday, the last time I fell off a horse was probably three years ago, when Baby Huey spooked at some ducks during a trail ride. That time I landed on my feet. Yesterday the fall from Clair wasn't bad at all. Today I made it two for two by getting bucked off Dakota. This time a trip to urgent care was the outcome.

Dakota is a sweetheart. He has never bucked, bolted, kicked, or bitten. He always tries hard. Today the barn owner B and I set out for a trail ride. We had just turned toward the driveway when I remembered I wanted to take my phone. I turned Dakota back toward the arena, where my phone was sitting on a shelf mounted to the arena railing. My car was also parked there, and to get to the phone we needed to maneuver between the car and the railing. There was about an eight foot gap, tight but not crazy tight. Dakota didn't want to squeeze in there. I was being pretty patient, just gently urging him forward, when in a flash he had a full-on panic attack. He sat back on his haunches, whirled 180 degrees, and started bucking as hard as he could, which is hard. I think I stuck it for two jumps and then I was off to the left. It was all so out of character for him!

I landed on my left forearm and hip. I really smacked into the ground, but i just felt sore when I stood up. I got back on Mr. D, and we continued our trail ride. He was a bit unsettled for the first ten minutes, but then he was fine. i felt fine myself. I spent the afternoon helping my husband install windows. I was a little gimpy on my left leg but still feeling pretty ok. By five o'clock, though, my left wrist was starting to really hurt and swell up. It was also making a weird clicking noise when I rotated it. I'm headed out of town tomorrow on a business trip, and I wanted to have it checked before I left, so off to urgent care we went. They x-rayed my wrist and hip. No obvious fractures but they want a radiologist to doublecheck the images tomorrow. I don't get on the plane until late afternoon.

Impressive hematoma, no?

B has a theory that maybe the tight space triggered a bad memory for Dakota -- maybe the stocks when he was at BLM? She said he looked terrified. I tend to agree that it was some kind of triggered trauma, because it was completely unlike him. We'll get back to it on Saturday and leave all this bad luck behind! (And after two smacks, I need to buy a new helmet!)

Clair Mare arrives! plus unrelated evening mayhem

Clair Mare arrived at the farm yesterday. Her former owners got her trailered over from Dallas nice and early, before it got too hot. She was supremely unstressed by the trip -- not even sweating. She was also unstressed by her new surroundings: interested, but not afraid (not even of the mini donkeys). We popped her in a stall with a run to start and gave her some hay, which she munched in between explorations. She was being extra mareish with her gelding neighbor; I hope that winds down as she settles in. She is so sweet to people but a little bitchy towards geldings.

We only had just so much time to spend before I had to get back to work, so I don't have great pictures yet. It was noon in the bright Lubbock sun, and I had sunglasses on. Basically I pointed my iPhone in her general direction and had no idea what I was shooting. But here are a couple arrival shots.

Towards the end of my work day I had a 911 text from my husband. Two of our dogs had gotten into a fight (over a tennis ball) and in trying to break up the fight he had gotten knocked flat on his back, which is already chronically injured. He was a wreck, and the two dogs were a wreck. I walked into what looked like carnage and a husband on the floor with back spasms so bad he looked like he was having a seizure. He was all, "I'm fine; take the dogs to the vet!" Which would have been funny if I hadn't been so scared he had a fracture. I called friends who came over and took the dogs to the vet while I took Ted to the ER. I got a call from the friends before long that neither dog was really hurt -- just a few bites on each of them, and one of them had a good laceration on her ear that was the source of all the blood. Dogfights often look and sound like they're killing each other, but in the end it's usually all sound and fury but no real injuries.

Ted really was a wreck when we got to the ER, but they gave him injections of pain meds and muscle relaxers, and two hours later he was so much better. He was able to wobble out on his own two feet, and he slept pretty well. More drugs this morning, and he's sleeping again. The horrible spasms are mostly gone. Our health insurance kicks in September 1, and he is SO GOING to a back specialist!

Sadness

Sammy the GSP has been battling a mast-cell tumor surrounding the lower joint in his back leg for several months. Steroids helped, and benadryl helped, but tonight the tumor swelled up terribly and was causing Sam awful pain in the joint. He was whimpering and crying and couldn't find a comfortable way to lie down. I couldn't stand to see him like that and decided it was time to let him go. He would have been 16 this summer.

I found Sam when he was running loose at a dressage show I was managing. The judges told me to "go catch that dog." I don't think any of them had ever chased a German shorthair before. I finally caught him and turned him over to animal control. No one claimed him, and he was going to be euthanized, so I took him home. He has been with me from Lincoln to Lubbock to Eugene. I miss him so much.

Non-directed kidney donation

I decided to become a kidney donor midsummer of last year. I was having a lot of stress in various aspects of my life, and it just seemed like something that, if I qualified, would allow me to put my focus somewhere entirely other, on something bigger and more important.

So, of course, I googled kidney donation and ended up at the National Kidney Registry. I found the Kidney Donation, No Recipient link, where there's a handy-dandy, step-you-through-it list of what's required to become a non-directed donor.

It started with some basic testing at my doctor's office. She also had to sign off on a form stating that she knew of no reason why I couldn't be a donor. The test results went off to the NKR, and I think it was a couple months before they contacted me to say I had passed the first hurdle.

Next, they scheduled me for two days of more rigorous testing, including a psych evaluation, at the nearest NKR-affiliated transplant center, which was the University of Washington Medical Center. So, in mid-January 2013, my then-boyfriend now-hubby Ted and I spent three days in Seattle. We even found a posh hotel downtown and made it a mini-vacation.

The first day was the day of endless hydration. I had to drink a liter of water on our way in to the hospital and provide a urine sample when I got there. Then the fun began. I was injected with a radioactive tracer and had to collect ALL my urine from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., constantly drinking water the whole time. Every hour, I would go back to where I got the injection and "pee into the hat" (the collection apparatus looked like a sombrero turned upside down) and they would draw a vial of blood. I had to drink drink drink to make sure they were getting enough pee at each collection (I swear it was gallons). This test was to see how quickly my kidneys eliminated the tracer from my bloodstream. A fun bonus: I got an official little card to carry for the next two months so when I flew, if I set off the TSA scanner, I could show the TSA folks why I was radioactive.

Later that afternoon Ted and I met with the whole transplant team, including the surgeon, the transplant coordinating nurse, and a social worker. The surgeon explained that only one in five non-directed applicants makes it through the testing, because it's very rigorous. They want to make sure no one in your immediate family has a history of early heart disease or stroke, cancer, diabetes, kidney disease, or liver disease. He said it's a little strange for him as a surgeon, because the "first, do no harm" doctor rule sort of goes out the window when he removes an organ from a healthy donor. So he wants to make absolutely that donors are very healthy and should be able to get by their whole life with one kidney. The transplant nurse was there to answer any and all questions, then and whenever, and the social worker probed a little into why I wanted to donate. That was day one.

Day two, I wasn't allowed to eat anything but jello and chicken broth. I gave fifteen vials of blood at the blood draw center. I had an EKG. Then we had about a 90-minute break so we went to the cafeteria and I ate, like, ten cups of jello. I am not a person who does well without eating. Next up was an abdominal CT scan. After that I was able to eat again (so hungry!). Finally, I met with a psychiatrist. It only took about fifteen minutes. When I came out into the waiting room, Ted said, "Either you passed with flying colors, or you really crashed and burned." He wants to get a bumper sticker that says "My girlfriend isn't crazy. I had her tested."

Then I waited a few more weeks. The transplant nurse sent me to my regular doctor for a couple extra tests. I waited a few more weeks. Then, in March, I got the email from UWMC that said I was approved! I was so excited. The next step was to enter my information in the NKR database and see who popped up as a match. In May I got the call that a match had been found and that the donation chain involved almost a dozen people (more on kidney donation chains). The surgery date was set for July 10. And the rest is history!

If you're reading this and thinking about becoming a donor, and would like to ask any questions, put your contact info in the comments or send me a message on Twitter where I am @halfpassgirl.

One last thing: I am also registered as a blood marrow donor. That process is super easy. You just register at Be the Match, they send you a cheek swab kit, you swab away, and you send them back the kit. That's it!

De-Kidneyfied!

I had my kidney donation surgery on July 10, and it all went very well! Here's me in pre-op with my fashionable hairnet.

I was really excited and totally ready to go. It took about a year from when I first inquired about donation to actually having the surgery.

And here I am first waking up from anesthesia. Look at my eyes! Totally stoned. 

I felt quite good the evening after surgery. I was sore but the pain meds were working well, and I wasn't feeling nauseous. I was actually hungry, but of course could only have jello and broth.

That evening I was drifting in and out without really realizing it. My boyfriend (now husband! but that's another story) Ted was laughing at me because I had been told to use my incentive spirometer (a little toy that gets you to breathe very deeply) as often as possible, so I was doing my ten breaths, falling asleep for three minutes, waking up, doing another ten breaths ... And having no memory of any of it. Also, I fell asleep while drinking soup and poured it down the front of myself. Fun times!

The next day was the only real rough day I had. In the middle of the night I requested some jello from the nurse, and it went down fine. Then at around 7:00 the next morning, the phlebotomist cheerfully trooped into my room to do my daily blood draw, and I said with some urgency, "Please give me that garbage can!" And out came the jello. Poor phlebotomist. They gave me nausea meds that helped a lot, but the next issue was I was having pain breathing and couldn't get much of a breath. They were worried about a blood clot, so they sent me down for chest x-rays. That was hard because I had to stand for the x-rays and I was very, very sore and shaky. Later that evening they also had me walk with a walker, and that too was hard. I made it halfway down the hall and back. The chest x-rays came back clear, so that was a relief.

The next day I felt about 3000% better. My lungs stopped hurting, I wasn't nauseous, and I was able to do a full loop around the transplant ward, two different times! I also took a much needed shower. Ted wheeled me outside for the first time, too, for some sunshine.

The next day was discharge day! I felt really good. I was completely mobile and the oral pain meds worked great. I was just delighted with how quickly I was bouncing back.

One funny thing that Ted and I hadn't anticipated: the recipient was in pre-op at the same time I was, in surgery at the same time, and was in the same wing for recovery. And we're not supposed to have contact for three months, and then only if the recipient wants to. So poor Ted didn't even get to go to the regular waiting room during the surgery because the recipient's family was there. And when I did my walking rounds through the ward, I would peek into any room with an open door and wonder if that was the recipient. We do know that it's a woman and that she's doing well. Her surgeon visited me a couple times and told me I have "the kidney of a racehorse."

Recovery at Ted's house was uneventful. I got stronger every day, and my appetite came roaring back. After a week we were going to movies and walking around the mall. The only hiccup came about two weeks ago, when the pain in my lungs came back, and the difficulty breathing. I called the transplant center for advice, and they said to go to the ER in case it was a blood clot. Luckily, it wasn't -- it was walking pneumonia. They gave me a Z-pack, and five days later I was good as new.

So, one rough day post-surgery and a short bout of pneumonia. Otherwise, the whole experience was truly wonderful. In October I'll get to know more about the recipient, and hopefully she'll want to exchange a letter at least. I absolutely don't want her to feel like she owes me anything; it's more just curiosity. She's walking around with a piece of me inside her :)

I had my surgery at the University of Washington Medical Center. I can't say enough about how fabulous the entire staff was.

Reboot

I see that I haven't written a post since October of last year. Apparently I lost my blogging mojo for awhile. This blog has always been centered on riding, and I had stopped riding. I had a rough winter, too, with multiple deaths from cancer in my circle, one after the other. First, I lost my awesome cousin Matthew, who was just a year older than me. He beat back cancer ten years ago, and in the fall it returned. He died over the holidays. He had just gotten his masters in theater arts and was running a theater in his hometown and really thriving. The world is a less vibrant place without him.

In late January, my elderly beagle mix Abby died suddenly of what was probably liver cancer. One day she just started hemorrhaging in her belly. I took her to the emergency vet, and putting her down was really the only option. She was almost sixteen. I got her as a one-year-old from Hearts United for Animals, one of the best no-kill shelters in the country. They specialize in long-distance adoptions, so if you're looking for a dog, you should check them out. Abby was possibly the most well-behaved dog on the planet. I still miss her.

Then, in February, a good friend of mine lost his mother to pancreatic cancer. She had been diagnosed only about twelve weeks earlier. It was very hard for him. And so, it was just a sad winter all around. I still miss Wolfgang, too.

There was happiness as well. Not long after I lost Abby, I decided to go ahead and look for a rescue beagle. This was mostly for Lola the bassador's benefit. Lola is a super playful girl, and neither Abby or Sam was much interested in playing with her. I found a beagle in Portland on CraigsList, and it was love at first sight. Her name is Annie, and she is fifty pounds of personality in a twenty-pound package. Her baying can just about pop your eardrums, and she is a Houdini at getting out of the yard. But she is a sweet little cuddlebug, and she loves to play with Lola. I'm happy I found her.

Sam the GSP is fourteen and hanging in there. He's mostly blind and mostly deaf, and his eye allergies make him miserable sometimes, but his heart and lungs are good, he's still steady on his feet, and he loves his food, his bed, his backyard, and his chin scritches.

One the horse front, I am currently riding a gray thoroughbred named Lee. He's a pretty boy!

His owner has to be out of town for a couple extended periods, and through a friend (Camilla) I got connected with her. So I'm working this lovely boy until the end of June. He likes me. He comes to me in the pasture and sticks his head up against me. It's nice to be riding again.

Sadly, Camilla has decided to sell Huey. She wants to jump over three feet, and Huey just can't keep his head together over the bigger fences. It's not that he can't jump them; it's more that he gets totally jacked up and takes over. But on lower fences he's super, and he can rock first level dressage. I think second level is within his reach as well. At third, it would take a lot of work to settle his flying changes.

My big news is that I have decided to become a non-directed kidney donor, meaning that my kidney will go to whomever needs it and is a good match. I was inspired by a This American Life segment on a Jewish woman who decided to donate her kidney as a mitzvah, or good deed. I also read a New York Times article on the largest kidney donation chain of all time: 30 donors and 30 recipients. I'll write a future post on what becoming a non-directed donor entails; but I have to share my exciting news -- yesterday the hospital in Seattle called to say they found a match for my kidney, and that my donation will start a chain. My surgery is tentatively set for July 10. I'm excited to think that I'll be able to help someone who is chronically ill have a much better quality of life.

Hyper-mobile SI joint

For about six months now, I've had pain in my right hip and lower back. Nothing major most of the time--just a dull ache and occasional sharper jab of pain. It hasn't kept me from doing anything; in fact, it feels best when I'm riding or working out. Sitting for long periods makes it flare, and the worst pain comes in the early morning if I go to roll over. Then I get some fairly severe pain that makes me groan and not want to move. Sometimes it keeps me awake at night, too, just aching and aching. But because it hasn't really kept me from enjoying life, I've mostly ignored it. I finally decided to see a doctor about it when it occurred to me that it hasn't gotten any better in six months. I didn't want it to get worse! And, I wondered if after all these years of riding, maybe I was developing some arthritis in my hip joint.

My doctor was unsure about the exact cause, so she sent me to see a physical therapist. After an hour of poking, prodding, twisting, turning, lifting, pulling, etc., she said I have a hyper-mobile sacroiliac joint on the right side. The ligaments that should limit the range of motion in that joint have gotten stretched out, so the joint can now wobble too much. She said it's likely a combination of years of riding, years of office work, and multiple falls from horses over two decades.

She gave me an SI belt to start wearing immediately to help stabilize the joint. It's just a non-stretchy wide belt I wear tight, a few inches below the points of my hips. She said to wear it as much as I can, even sleeping if I could stand it. I wore it all day yesterday, and wow! what a difference! With it on and the joint stabilized, I have almost no pain or ache. I wore it working out last night (elliptical and machines) and didn't have a single twinge, and no pain following the workout like I usually get. I also wore it to bed and had no pain at all. I'll try riding in it tomorrow. The PT also gave me an exercise to do to start strengthening the supporting muscles and ligaments in the area.

The PT said everything around the joint is in complete lockdown in an attempt to stabilize it. The SI joint on the left is also partially locked to compensate. A chiropractor and a massage therapist both discovered all those locked muscles and worked on them in the past six months, but the PT said while that wasn't wrong per se, it wasn't addressing the cause of the problem. It's so nice to get it figured out!

I thought I'd post this information because I know so many equestrians with varying degrees of back pain, and I have known others who, like me, say that their back feels best when they're on a horse. That can be a symptom of this condition. One other note--if the problem is indeed a hyper-mobile SI joint, a chiropractic adjustment of the joint may feel good, but it will loosen the joint more. (Disclaimer: I am not a doctor and I don't even play one on TV.)

I had a fun lesson on Huey Wednesday. Camilla is competing him at an event next weekend, and she's been out of town, so I've been doing what I can to keep him jumping fit without actually jumping. Trainer Leslie had me working lots of collected canter as well as counter canter. He did really well!

Where did June go?

I think having an appendectomy speeds up the rate at which time passes. I'm pretty sure. Cuz there is no way it's late June. Also not helping -- the coldest spring/early summer since I first moved here almost five years ago. Up until a few days ago, we were pretty much stuck at Rainy, High of 58. Today it was 80 and everyone, including me, commented about how hot it was. And I'm a Nebraskan! So anyway, June is just about gone, and I've hardly posted.

I healed up from my surgery just fine. I was released to start riding again about twelve days ago, with stern warnings from my surgeon that Huey needed to behave himself. And he has! We've had some really lovely rides. Last night was probably our all-time best schooling session. He was SO on the aids -- I got a few half steps, and some almost-floaty lengthenings. The rescheduled show is on for July 3, and we'll be ready!

First, though, I'm off on a business trip to Philadelphia for a week, starting Thursday. The timing is good, because Huey is heading to Inavale Farm for a 3-day event. I sent my Flip cam with Camilla, so I hope to have some video to share in early July.

July 4-5 marks the one-year anniversary of Abby's great escape and my near-nervous-breakdown. This year she will be stashed in my bedroom whenever fireworks are likely and I'm not home.

And then THAT happened . . .

Wednesday night, 10:00 p.m. I went to bed feeling a little out of sorts. By 11:00 I realized I hadn't fallen asleep yet, and I was having some pain from my stomach area all across my abdomen. I figured I was having some sort of digestive episode, so I got up and ate a yogurt and some crackers. The hours ticked by during the night, and the pain just kept getting worse and worse. I was especially tender in my lower right abdomen (dun dun DUN) and getting pretty nauseous. By the early morning hours, I had developed a low fever and realized I was actually whimpering from time to time. I had never fallen asleep. At around 8:30 I decided it was ER time.

I couldn't stand up straight, but I hunched my way over to my CRV and drove about 5 mph to my nearby small-town ER. In short order they had an IV in me with some anti-nausea medication. Sweet relief. Then they added some explosively effective pain meds, which made me study the beauty that was the ceiling tiles. I drank about a half-gallon of lemony liquid that helps to light you up for the CT scan. And lo and behold, the scan clearly showed an extremely fat and unhappy appendix. No time to wait; it had to come out immediately. This isn't what I had planned for the holiday weekend.

Two of my friends picked me up and transferred me to the larger medical center in Eugene. They popped me in a room, my friends left, and about twenty minutes later I was being wheeled to OR prep. A nurse talked to me, a tech talked to me, the anesthesiologist talked to me, and the surgeon talked to me. They all wondered if I was nervous, this being my first experience with general anesthesia. But I had had no time to even process what was happening, I was still flying on some leftover pain meds, and I had missed a night's sleep, so I was actually just kind of dozing off. I was perhaps the most relaxed surgery candidate of all time.

About two minutes after being wheeled into surgery, it was lights out, and the next thing I knew I woke up in recovery feeling awesome. They had told me I might feel anxious, but I was the opposite of anxious. I was so so so happy that that sick, toxic pain was gone. Plus, I was very floaty and peaceful. Those ceiling tiles again!

Back up to my room, a quick visit with a couple friends, a night of being poked and prodded once an hour every hour, and then I was discharged at noon today. Talk about a whirlwind. I just woke up from a nap and am feeling sore but good. I was supposed to be at the Bright Eyes show in Bend tonight, but oh, well. Apparently my appendix came pretty close to perforating, but didn't, so I am not going to complain.

No dressage for two weeks.

We're gonna show!

Baby Huey and I are going to show first level at a local schooling show on May 22! I haven't looked at a first level test in, like, seven years. But just how different can they be from seven years ago? There aren't that many possible movements at first level. If Huey and I can get it together, he should be able to score decently on everything except, maybe, trot lengthening. Sometimes we can get it, but more often not so much. Wish us luck!

Here are some clips from this evening. What a pleasant ride. You'll see a little bit of trot lengthening, lots and lots of trot-canter-trot, some walk-canter-walk, and stretching down. I love how the transitions are looking. If you've got nice transitions, you're doing something right. The walk-canter-walk isn't second-level clean yet, but it's not bad. I'm pretty sure Camilla can do it cleaner, so I just need to work on my timing.

Remember when I talked about my fun upper-back muscle knot? And remember when I jolted my back a couple weeks ago? Well, my jolted lower back got about 80% better on its own and then hit a plateau at "not spasming, but moderately ouchy." Several people at work swear by a local chiropractor, so I decided to give him a try. He doesn't do the jerking thing; he uses the little tool that thumps you (I've seen it done on horses). I thought, hey, he can fix my lower back and also tell me why I have frustrated about six different massage therapists who can't get my upper-back-knot to let go. I had my appointment today. The thumping he did on my lower back already seems to have helped a lot. And when he found my knot he started laughing. "That's no knot," he said, "that's your second rib." The muscle that attaches to the rib has pulled it out of whack so it's poking out. He thought it was pretty funny that for a year, massage therapists have been pushing on it, trying to break it up. Pretty hard to break up bone. So he thumped around there, too, and whatever he did has stirred up a hornet's nest. I felt kind of sick all afternoon, and tonight I'm just icing and icing. He said this might happen, and it should subside in a day. And he said to tell the massage therapists to work on the posterior scalene muscle instead of pushing on my rib.

omg sun

A rare sunny day yesterday! And the bees left Huey alone, too.

Not in the video was a little hop, skip, and a jump Huey threw in during warmup, much as he always does, but for some reason this time it tweaked my back. I didn't notice too much as I continued to ride, but when I got off all the muscles spasmed at once. Fun! I didn't sleep well at all last night, and when it was time to get up this morning I actually had to crawl to the kitchen to feed my dogs. Luckily everything is limbering up as the day goes by. Ice and naproxen sodium.

I volunteered at the roller derby last night (luckily they had me selling tickets, where I could sit the whole time), and at some point my volunteer partner, who was handling Will Call, said, "Hmm, there's someone on here named Captain Tightpants."

I practically ripped the sheet out of her hands, and yes, there it was: 4 VIP tickets reserved for Captain Tightpants. Now, I just happened to know that Nathan Fillion was in town yesterday supporting Arcimoto, a local electric car manufacturer. He owns an Arcimoto. So I thought to myself something coherent like "omg omg I'm gonna meet Nathan Fillion omg omg." But then I got hold of myself and asked the volunteer coordinator just exactly how that Will Call got put on the sheet, and she shot down my hopes and dreams, telling me that it was the ECRG (derby league) who set aside the tickets and invited Nathan via Twitter, and there was little chance he would actually show. Yet another dream, dashed on the rocks of harsh reality.

Nathan, next time you're in town for an Arcimoto gig, call me? K?

Happy New Year!

Wow, time does fly. January is already half over! We're having day after day of 50-degree-plus weather and rain, rain, rain. I was on the U of O campus a week ago, and there were daffodils in full bloom. If Huey starts shedding, we're in for an early spring for sure.

Chihuahua update: both little guys have new homes. Trainer Leslie took one of them and named him Gizmo. I myself have decided maybe now is not the right time for a puppy, so I'm instead thinking about an adult rescue dog in the spring. A vizsla if I can find one; otherwise whatever strikes my fancy.

Proving that I am so clumsy I can hurt myself while sleeping, I am on week three of dealing with a radial neuropathy in my left arm. I injured the radial nerve, and now can't straighten my wrist or move my thumb very well. Prognosis for full recovery is good, but it may take a few months. I'm able to ride if I wear a wrist brace, but typing is a drag. Also, the physical therapist sent me home with a little machine that shocks my muscles via electrodes. I get to do that to myself three times a day. It's just as pleasant as it sounds.

Due to my wonky arm, I've been mostly lungeing Huey for the past couple of weeks. Huey has major trauma in his past from a nasty person who chased him with a lunge whip. He therefore can be quite a handful on the lunge. Sometimes he turns his butt in and kicks at me out of fear, and it's such a delicate balance to let him know he must not do that, without scaring him even further. I've been so pleased to see him steadily coming around the last two sessions.

Here's my New Year's Day ride, with some turns on the haunches and shoulder-ins. Huey was distracted by an invisible monster to the south but mostly very good.

Florence, Flash, and Baby Huey

It's Friday, at last, and I have a fun weekend planned. Tomorrow a friend and I are taking another friend to Florence (on the coast) for her birthday. I haven't been over to the coast in, like, a year. So stupid, because it's less than an hour away. It's even supposed to be sunny.

On Sunday, I'm off to a local eventing competition to watch Camilla ride Flash in the dressage portion. Then I'll head over to the barn and work Baby Huey. I'm going to bring my own dressage saddle along and see if it fits him (I suspect it will -- he's got a high wither just like Willow). The de Kunffy saddle that Camilla has is really flat and hard as a rock. Camilla is a hardier soul than I, I guess. I want my comfy saddle.

Camilla trailers over to take lessons with trainer Leslie on Wednesdays, and she has offered to bring Huey along so I can take a lesson as well. She's really focusing on Flash, so Huey is usually free. What a great deal! It's funny how things just work out sometimes.

In November I joined Massage Envy, so I get a massage every month. It's been rather awesome. But my massage therapist, Tracy, is stumped by the muscle that runs under my right scapula. It's basically in spasm all the time. I was sort of aware of this already; I get this weird creepy-crawly feeling in that area several times every day, and it always hurts some after I do anything strenuous. Tracy has not been able to get this muscle to unknot. Last time she said she's going to call up her instructor for advice. I separated my right shoulder ten years ago in a riding accident, and Tracy wonders if that was the start of the problem. It's weird to think of that poor muscle spasming away for years at a time.

The bronchitis can go away now

I'm still sick. Actually, about half the people in my office are sick too, but I have the privilege of being the sickest. One colleague stopped by with some Airborne for me, and later someone else dropped off a packet of Theraflu. I'm sure they're all tired of listening to this cough. I did go to the doctor today and got hooked up with some antibiotics, which are coursing through my veins as we speak. Do your thing, antibiotics!

Willow got Sunday and Monday off as I battled the bronchitis, but tonight I worked her in spite of feeling like crud. In the lungeing, Leslie has me focusing on keeping Willow up in front, snapping the lunge line sharply whenever she starts to lean and driving her forward. Willow's starting to get what it is I want. "Oh, you mean I have to hold my own head up?"

Under saddle, similarly, I'm working on getting Willow off my hand without letting the reins slip. As part of this work, I'm touching her with the whip a lot more, and the overreactions are starting to abate.

My a-ha moment tonight came in the canter. Now that I've stopped shoving my inside leg forward in canter I can tell I have a lot more influence over the inside hind. Tonight I asked for a few ten-meter canter circles, and instead of trying to keep Willow from falling over the outside shoulder by using my outside leg, for some reason it occurred to me to try using my inside leg, and voila, suddenly I stopped losing her to the outside. It makes sense that if she wasn't engaging that inside hind, the relative straightness of that leg was probably pushing her to the outside. When she engages it, it carries more weight and lets her balance herself better. Neato.

Willow is in full-on shedding mode. I choose to believe this points to an early spring.

Lesson #3

I've had a nasty cold/flu/bronchitis-y thing for the past three days, but I'm finally feeling better tonight so I went ahead and had my lesson. My nose ran like a faucet through the whole thing, which was very attractive.

We've made progress! Willow did not wig out even once. She only braced for the first five minutes instead of the first ten. The trot got good fairly quickly, so as promised we spent a lot of time on the canter. Leslie had me bring Willow in to a twelve meter circle in trot to get her really engaging the inside hind, and I asked for the canter from there. Two bad habits for me to address: raising my hands during the depart, and pushing my inside leg too far forward. Both really easy to fix; I just need to keep them in the front of my mind for a week or two. Leslie also had had me raise my stirrups a hole, and that helped stabilize my seat and upper body. Willow has a big canter which tends to throw my upper body forward and back. By the end of the lesson the canter departs felt great and the canter itself was softer and more self-contained.

Willow was a steamy girl when we finished; she's using muscles she didn't know she had. I gave her an extra carrot for trying so hard.

Caffeine withdrawal

When trying to overcome an addiction, I've read that you should think of every failed attempt as "practice." I've been practicing quitting caffeine for a long time now. Because I love my Coca Cola so much, my past attempts have revolved around decreasing my consumption. Those attempts have all been miserable failures. My five-can-a-day habit would reassert itself within a few days.

For some reason, this week I have an exciting new level of resolve. Tuesday night I was driving home from the barn, really craving a Coke. I realized I didn't have any at home. And I suddenly said, that's it! I'm quitting! I am not dragging myself to the grocery store with this giant greenish-brown horse kiss all over the front of my white shirt! (My grandfather told me a similar story about quitting smoking: he was way the heck out in the middle of the north forty combining, and he realized he really needed a cigarette, his pack was empty, and his pickup was very far away. He got mad and quit.)

So I'm 48 hours into the cold turkey experience. I had a miserable headache last night, although I found that working up a sweat riding seemed to help it quite a bit. I suppose the trick is to keep your circulation pumping. Today I just feel foggy and tired, but the headache is mostly gone. I'm using Gatorade as my crutch. I was hit with a severe Coke craving around lunchtime, but I just kept sipping the Gatorade and it passed.

Wikipedia tells me the first 48-72 hours are the worst, and all withdrawal symptoms should pass after a week. Wikipedia also provided this helpful illustration to keep me motivated:

Dr. Pierce's Pleasant Pellets

About four blocks from my house there's a really cool old barn with an original turn-of-the-(last)-century advertisement.

It turns out Dr. Pierce was the most famous patent-medicine peddler of all time. In addition to hawking his Pleasant Pellets, he sold a million bottles of Dr. Pierce's Smart Weed. I wonder what was in that? My research indicates that his elixirs also usually contained opium.

I also turned up the following New York Times "article" from 1894:

[The pellets help with] "a multitude of distressing diseases, such as headaches, indigestion, biliousness, skin diseases, boils, carbuncles, piles, fevers and maladies too numerous to mention. If people would pay more attention to properly regulating the action of their bowels, they would have less frequent occasion to call for their doctors' services to subdue attacks of dangerous diseases. . . . Dr. Pierce prides himself on having been first to introduce a Little Liver Pill to the American people. Many have imitated them, but none have approached his Pleasant Pellets in excellence. . . . To relieve distress from over-eating, nothing equals them. They are tiny, sugar-coated, anti-bilious granules, scarcely larger than mustard seeds. Every child wants them."

It seems like Dr. Pierce was a little mixed up about the liver and the bowels. Or maybe he thought they were the same thing?