Musings on the road to recovery

Following my GP appointment, I prepared myself for a typical Friday, some reading, physio exercises, plus maybe some photography. I love how life sometimes throws a spanner in the works and the ideal becomes far removed from reality.

As I mentioned, this was my plan, although Fate had an alternative in mind. Instead, at around 11am, the woman who I mentioned previously, the one who does our garden and who bought me the plants, bought her horse to our house to show me, knowing that I love horses and how I plan to get back to riding one day.

He was magnificent, if rather lively. I was shocked by my reaction as I was totally petrified of him. Gone was the confidence I used to have around horses, instead I was too busy thinking of the “what ifs”, most of them seemed to be centred on me being trampled underfoot by this huge horse (17.2 hands).

Now, not being a coward, (some might call me foolhardy…I’d be inclined to agree at times) I decided to face my fear head on and asked her if she’d like me to go back to her stables and take some photos of him, the chance to photograph a moving animal is not to be missed, especially as the cats now see the camera and leg it and Mr RR is not a willing participant when it comes to my photography – total understatement really, he sees the camera and immediately obscures his face, whilst huddling himself into the smallest ball possible, hoping that I won’t notice him. I think he thinks that the camera might steal part of his soul, or something.

What I’d failed to remember, however was my total lack of knowledge of the local area. Depite having lived in the town for most of my life, and certain that I knew exactly where the road was, so confident that I didn’t need the Sat Nav, oh how pride comes before a fall. Thirty minutes I spent driving round trying to find this blasted road,which, may I add is less than 0.2 miles away from my house. Becoming tired and frustrated of my total lack of map reading skill and not wanting to call Mr RR to remind him once more of my inability to find places and open myself up to gentle mockery for the next two weeks, I called her to get directions and found that in the meantime, she’d had a fall. A bus had gotten too close to her horse, he’d reared and she’d fallen onto the road, the bus driver had noticed, as had the passengers but he’d driven off nevertheless, leaving her lying in the road and her horse careering around on this busy road.

Luckily some passersby managed to get the horse into a quiet cul de sac and both of them, while shocked, were ok. She was understandably too shocked to get back on him, so her friend was called to ride him back to the stables. My job was to stay behind in the car, with my hazards on to slow the traffic so that all parties got home safely.


I spent some time with her at the stables, taking photographs of her horse and spending time with her beast in order to regain my confidence, when I realised something. In my haste to leave the house, I’d left my walking stick at home and, that due to the work I’ve been doing lately, I was able to walk a bit quicker. I also realised that, to these people at the stables, I appeared normal. They didn’t know about accident, the medication, the pain, all they knew was that I knew a bit about horses. I felt liberated.

Spending time with her horses, I felt normal again. No-one to judge me, to tell me I was doing too much or to question me about my condition. It reforged my resolve to get back to riding and my determination that the pain isn’t going to stop me from completing my life goals. Sure, it may slow me down, but it won’t stop me, I won’t let it.


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