The fall from ace

July 9, 2017

The Fall From Ace. (or WEAR YOUR HELMETS!)

By Amy Wingrove

Silence.

It was absolutely still.  The thud of her body, in the dirt.  A small dust cloud puffed above her. She didn't move.  She wasn't crying.  Her horse. He was still.  Wondering.  

Brain!  Wake Up!  Process!  That's your baby!  OH MY GOD!  THAT'S MY CHILD!  MOVE!

The next few moments were a blur as I ran towards my child's lifeless body, for what seemed like miles. 

Her father beat me to her, and she started crying as we checked her over.  She was alive.  She could move.  He carried her to the end of the arena.  We breathed for the first time in what seemed like hours. 

She was in incredible pain.  A friend who is in the medical profession checked her over for the big things, can you move your toes, hands, fingers?  She screamed in pain.  OK, what's next?  Broken bones?  She screamed again.

Decision time.

"Let's take her to the hospital," 

"OK, me or you?" He said.

"I'll take her, you keep Olivia, and the horses." (I think I must have said this)

"OK." 

He placed her in my front seat, she was short of breath, and we began driving.  

"Are you sure you don't want me to take her?" He said, as I was pulling out of the arena.  

"HURRY UP I AM DYING!" she screamed.

And at that moment I drove to the closest hospital.  She vomited.  She ripped her shirt and boots off.  Tiny little person in the front seat of my car, in obvious distress.  We got to the hospital, where the registration seemed to take hours, and as she screamed, "HURRY UP!" again to anyone who would listen, they whisked us back into the ER.

*****

She had gotten a new horse, Ace, and had ridden him at several WPYRA Rodeo shows this spring, and she was doing really well with him.  He wasn't her pony, Chloe, whom she had been riding for almost a decade, and had taken to 4-H State Horse Show numerous times, this was her new horse.  A big, black, AQHA with a different gait, and a lot taller.  But she and Ace seemed to be developing a trust that only a horse and rider truly understand. 

It was her first 4-H Show with Ace. This show was held  at the Westmoreland fairgrounds, and she had never ridden him in a game class called "Keyhole." In this class, where the horse and rider run to the opposite end of the arena, enter a small box (in this case, made of 2x4s and orange safety cones) turn around in the box, and exit the box through the small entry opening.  

She had control of him, because she was aware that he had never done it before with her.  

She entered the arena and ran to the keyhole, slowing him to a trot, then entering the box slowly. She turned and he .... 

That's where we don't know exactly what happened.  Did he buck?  Kicking his back legs up in joy as he prepared to sprint to the gate?  Did he trip and fall forward?  Was she unsettled and wobbly in the saddle as he lurched forward in speed?  No one knows.  

But anyone who was at the show that day does know  what happened next was the thud of a child's body hitting the ground, head, neck, shoulder, body.  The horse stopping and looking confused and frantic as his rider stopped.  The gasp of the crowd.  The terror of parents sprinting towards their child.  

The parents, and children watching all moving in to assist.  Getting the horse that was terrified of the people running towards his rider, getting the child some brief medical checks, getting the drink cups and keys that were thrown at people at the gate by a frantic mother, clearly in shock.  It is a constant at 4-H.  The people.  The people make the organization more amazing that any words can describe.  4-H is how people ought to be.  There for each other.  At all times.  At any cost.  

And they are.

****

She was immediately given an IV, xrayed, and ultimately given an ultrasound.  All within about 20-30 minutes of us arriving at Frick Hospital.  She writhed in pain.  They injected her with a strong medication to alleviate the pain at the surface.  

Her father, grandfather, sister and friend came to see her immediately after her sister's last class, left the horses in the parking lot and checked in.  I told them they hadn't been conclusive about anything just yet and we were still waiting.  They left to put the horses in the pasture and her father would return.  It was just me and her again, and that's when they told us:

"You will be transported to Children's Hospital."

Again, immediately I went into a thought-less survival mode.  I called her father, "They're transporting us to Children's Hospital by ambulance."  He said to his family and our other daughter, "Let's go."  And I said, "No, just you.  I  need someone to get my car, my dogs, I need a sweatshirt.  I'll ride with her in the ambulance, you meet us."

And he did.

And Alison and I did what we had to do.

And it was awesome.

****

Alison and I made it to Children's Hospital, in what seemed like record time, (because it was) and we were immediately greeted (is that the right word?  probably not) by what can only be described as a swarm of people.  Maybe 20.  Probably more like 500 is what I thought.  Nurses, Doctors, Techs.  Taking vitals, asking questions.  Her dad beat us to the hospital and I asked that he be sent in to us.  

She was more relaxed now, as the powerful medication had eased her pain, and we were confirmed that internal bleeding, a laceration of the spleen, had occurred.  She was admitted to the hospital.  I knew nothing else, and so we all waited.  

They watched her and we waited.  

During the hours of waiting, she slept, while I fielded texts from friends in 4-H, the leaders, the people running the show, the administrators, to "please keep us posted, let us know how she's doing."  And I did.  As I knew things, I passed along information.

****

It could have been so much worse.  I remember thinking this.  Thank GOD she had a helmet on.  Thank GOD she had a helmet on.  What we now know, is that whatever happened that caused her to become unsettled in the saddle, she lurched forward so violently that her abdomen caught the saddle horn, (the handle in front of the saddle, for those of you who aren't really horse people, but have been on a pony ride) and it was with such force that it bruised and broke her spleen.  

That force knocked her wind out of her, and she crashed head and neck first into the dirt.  She didn't lose consciousness she says, but she couldn't breathe.  THANK GOD SHE WAS WEARING A HELMET.

There was no control in her fall.  There was no "emergency dismount"  There was nothing that all riders "know" how to do in the case of "Oh S___ I am going to fall off this horse now," because she had knocked the wind out of herself.  

As a mom, it was one of those moments that time stood still.  

And as a mom, it is my responsibility to tell you to make your children wear helmets.  I would never want someone to have to experience what I did, although I know we all will at some time, but it would be absolutely devastating to have to think beyond what happened to us.  As a mom, my mind will not allow me to go there.  To think of anything worse.  

And I've seen kids ride horses, 4wheelers, even bikes without helmets, and it is this moment, that I remind you- PUT YOUR HELMET ON.

There are really awesome looking helmets out there, and even though they might be hot or ugly... they could save your life.  Alison didn't even have a concussion.

 Let me say this again:  NO CONCUSSION.  BECAUSE OF HELMET.  

She landed on her head, neck and shoulder.  NO CONCUSSION.  

Wear a helmet.  Dammit. 

*****

She didn't need surgery, at least not then, and they released us from the hospital.  She's to be cleared to return to normal activity on July 14.  Since her accident she has basically been able to walk, and swim.  No gymnastics, no horses, bikes, 4wheelers... nothing.  No lifting her pug onto her bed.  (Also, no helping with weeding, laundry, anything over five pounds!)  So it's been a rough month for her.  

But it's only been a month.  It could have been a lifetime.  It could have been so much worse.  

But it wasn't and I'm so grateful.  

***

Thank you to everyone at Frick, Children's Hospital, Westmoreland 4-H Extension Office, the 4-H Horse Clubs and to everyone who asked about her since the fall.  Watch out though, because when Alison and Ace get back in the saddle, it's go time.  And she will get back in that saddle.  That's what she's been taught.  And to quote something she said to me when she was a little 5 year old girl, "Momma, I made up a word:  Tsidapee.  You say it like sid-a- pea.  It means, never-ever give up." 

Tsidapee, Alison.

Never, ever give up.  Onward, and win!

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