You know, where about 8 personnel, including the doctor, give you some variation of "You did what?" just to make sure they were hearing correctly.
My contribution for the day. I was moving a few concrete blocks this morning at 7:00 a.m. Chores already done, animals happily munching, me happily moving blocks. Something brushed up against the back of my ankles. Since I had just fed the animals a few minutes ago, I wasn't thinking "cat." I thought the cats were all at the food dish, where they had been when last spotted very recently. Nope, I thought, "SNAKE!!!!!" (Note that I had on boots and couldn't readily distinguish fur from scales at touch.) I jumped, lost my grip on the block, and the blasted thing hit me right across the top of the left foot, just where there is so inconveniently no padding to speak of.
After dancing and yelping (and startling the cat, who had apparently found my block-moving interesting enough to leave her breakfast to come investigate more closely), I hobbled to the house, peeled off boot and sock, and surveyed a rapidly bluing foot. Then, I reluctantly reshod myself (only not with farm boots) and headed to the ER for x-rays. I have a high head-to-ER threshold, but this hit it. I know that that spot has oodles of bones and no protection, and the blasted block was about 35-ish pounds, I'd say. Not as heavy as a sack of grain, but not light. If something was fractured, much easier to treat it promptly than to discover that in a few months when it's healed wrong.
The ER was prompt, efficient, helpful - and fascinated. X-rays taken. No, nothing is broken, although "you whacked the thunder out of it," quoth the doc. He wrapped me up and dispensed hydrocodone and sympathy. Then he said, "You have a farm?" Yes, I have a farm. "Since you have a farm, I know you're going to fudge these instructions, but here goes. Blah, blah, blah." I grinned and promised to try to obey the majority of them (48 hours totally nonweightbearing is out. I do have the animals).
Obviously, I was the first dropped-a-concrete-block-on-self they had encountered. A few even asked for specific descriptions of the block, because they couldn't believe it was what they were picturing, which it was. I'm glad at least to have enlivened their day and provided a break (only figuratively, thankfully) in routine for them.
Then there was my bad hand injury in 2007, rope burns to 8 fingers (missed the thumbs). Still have effects from that. But the doc, when he came around the corner to see me, asked right off, frowning at my paperwork, "What's a lead rope?" He pronounced it like the stuff in pencils and bad paint. I said, "Lead rope. I was loading my horse, and . . ." "Oh, you're a HORSE person. We get a lot of those here."
After a friend's 2 yr old spun around and kicked me in the stomach, lacerating my pancreas... I was having fits with the ER people telling them to NOT cut off my schooling chaps and that the short boots I had on would easily come off, no need to cut them, either! Thank heavens chaps have buckles front and back and long zippers on the sides!
Not so funny, someone was showing us a horse a Sunday afternoon.
The horse didn't look that quiet, he picked his ten year old boy and put him up there, horse only had a halter on and jumped forward, the kid landed on the horse's back where his heels hit the horse's groin and the horse bucked the kid off.
I was on the off side, saw it coming, was reaching for the kid, broke his fall with my arm and it dislocated my elbow badly, the arm would not go back in place.
So, trip to the ER in one hospital, where that ER doctor would not touch it and send me to another hospital where an orthopedic surgeon was operating.
Got there and they told me I had to wait for a while, several surgeons were working on a cowboy that his horse had dragged thru the brush, trying to put him back together and also had a stick poking in his brain.
I told them that I could wait, yes, please, get him fixed, as long as it took.
The cowboy I saw later in horse therapy, he was never again the same, very handicapped mentally, but still loving riding a little around.
The surgeon came, looked at my elbow, gave me something, I think Valium and twisted my arm around quickly while his nurse held me and distracted me, to where the elbow was back in place.
I left with a sling and a prognosis of getting back 75% use, but had 100% in six weeks.
They mentioned it must have been a bad day for horses, I was the fourth "horse" accident to come in, the other two arena falls, kids in playdays and the day was not over yet.
I told them that mine really was not a horse accident, the horse didn't do anything to me.
Got kicked in the head once and had a laceration on my forehead that needed suturing, so drove myself over to the ER.
(Scared hell out of the gas station attendant on the way...)
Orderly gave me an ice pack to hold over it while we waited for the MD, and chuckled when I slapped it right over the wound--"you horse people all do that. Everyone else puts it on really carefully. But you horse people, you just slap it right on."
If you are starting a colt and he acts up, roll up a newspaper and hit yourself over the head, saying "bad trainer, bad trainer!"--Bluey
Last year, I lost my balance when the horse I was riding took off too early for a jump. I fell, the horse stepped on my arm with two feet, and had to go to the ER in riding clothes covered in filth. When I walked in the door, the desk lady took one look at my scraped up, dirty arm (with blue horseshoe prints!) and got me in as soon as she could...
The doctor gave me the option to clean up my arm myself, and the look on her face was priceless when I accepted and started dumping soap on it I told her I was a horse person, and she laughed and said "nearly all of them clean themselves up".
Not necessarily horse-related, but a teen at the barn's science teacher was tackled on a football field while taking pictures of the team
I'm currently sitting up in bed just out of my second surgery since Friday when I fell off my greenie. Nothing dramatic - he spun, I dismounted (not by choice) and just plain came down wrong - on my feet. Open fracture of both my tibia and fibula, bone sticking out, foot flopping to the side and all. Almost everyone I've encountered, from the ambulance people to the nurses, to all the others who've traipsed through my room seem fascinated by the fact that I'm so nonchalant about it. Apparently the fact that I'm cracking jokes, up and ready to go take a trip to the bathroom right after surgery, etc. just doesn't happen with even some "big, tough men". And they seem amazed that I did that much damage just by falling off a horse. I figure, it's happened and I can't change it, might as well have a sense of humor about it.
It's not about the color of the ribbon but the quality of the ride. Having said that, I'd like the blue one please!
I caused quite a stir at the ER when I drove myself and my broken ribs to the hospital after falling off a neighbor's horse. They couldn't believe I was able to drive myself in and that I had stopped by the house to feed first. But, the ER Doc just pulled his cell phone out and showed me a picture of his daughter on a horse and said, "Yeah. Horse people."
My latest fall made a lot of people go "You did what?"
Pony and I got a bad spot to a line, took all three jumps out and at the end, I apparently did a headstand. It was quite a spectacular fall, but I felt okay after.
Untacked pony, got in the car, headed to work. Told them I may have sustained a concussion so I may have to go home at some point - they were horrified and sent me home.
Next day, I head into my internship. After about an hour, I pop into the bosses office "Here's the paperwork you wanted. By they way, I fell off my horse last night and now I'm losing my vision, so do you mind if I go home?" I got the same horrified response.
I finally got driven to the doctor's a few hours later, and boy was she pissed that I had not gone immediately to the hospital. I got the "Don't you DARE ride" speech from her as well. Ohhh I love my GP.
I was dragging a horse blanket off of the coal pile in our first house and pulled one of the cinder blocks from about three feet up on top of my foot. Mainly hit my big toe, but I feel your pain literally. I did lose my toenail but it grew back relatively normally.
I had my then 4 year old saddlebred mare balk and fling her head back into a "pop-up" in the middle of a big trotting pass. It caught me by surprise when the back of her head made contact with my eye. I finished my ride, helped feed dinner to the barn and headed home. I iced my face and put some raw meat on it too but by morning it was pretty black and swollen and my eyelashes were starting to turn in from the swelling. All of the x-rays came back fine, no fractures, but I had a hard time convincing everyone that it was my horse and not my boyfriend (boyfriend was traveling on business and wouldn't hurt a fly). I had to go in to work later that afternoon for a very important conference call with my VP and Director and had to explain it all over again.
Every man has a right to his opinion, but no man has a right to be wrong in his facts. Bernard M. Baruch
I got many funny looks when I showed up with a patch of my lower leg wrapped in duct tape. Apparently that was the first time they had seen someone wrap a 6" gash with black duct tape. I had been shoeing a creakie old horse and got a nail dragged in the side of my calf and out the front. I pass out at the sight of my own blood and had to finish the horse and trim two others so thought it best if I averted my eyes and just wrapped the leg up. It was fine and I only went to the ER later as upon inspection there was something that looked important poking out. lol Hospital couldn't even do anything as apparently there was flesh missing along the entire wound. They just wrapped it and got a bit of entertainment. I actually wrapped it in animalintec poultice wrap for padding so I could keep shoeing while it healed and man that stuff really pulls out pus. It looked like someone sneezed on it every time I changed the wrap. lol Now my first aid kit is pink argyle duct tape and animalintec pads.
You know, my most interesting ER visit wasn't horse related, funny enough.
I worked for my college's audio/visual tech department and one of our work boxes weighed about 300 pounds. One of the guys and I were wheeling the sucker inside, out of the snow, when its wheel got caught in a divot in the tile and it flipped onto my foot. I worked on it for another few hours, then finally gave up and told my boss "I think I broke my foot a couple hours ago, can I leave and go to the ER?" Nobody was in to give me a hand so I drove myself to the ER- mind you, the right foot was the problem, and there's ice on the road and more coming down- parked, and hobbled in.
"You dropped a what on your foot?"
I explain about the work box.
"A box did this?"
I explain, again, the weight of the box.
"You had a box that was this big?"
Finally they got me to an x-ray, observed that it appeared to be broken, and told me so. I said "Great, could have told you that, please give me crutches so I can go home."
They would not give me crutches for a broken foot and sent me back out into the ice and sleet to drive home. At this point it was fairly late in the evening, I hadn't eaten all day, and I'm sorry to say that the combination of events led me to call my mother in tears. She drove through the weather to my apartment (about 40 mins from her house) with the pair of crutches still in the basement from the first time I broke my foot (also not off a horse) and a container of matzo ball soup. My mom rocks.
This is HR, by the way, because I was wearing paddock boots at the time- and that's important, because upon later examination, the foot turned out not to be broken, and it was the doc's opinion that my stout Ariats were the reason why not.
(The HR injuries have thus far been pretty straightforward. "Hi, I fell off my horse and went headfirst into a wooden coop and was unconscious for at least 5 minutes. I think I have a concussion.")
"I'm not always sarcastic. Sometimes I'm asleep."
- Harry Dresden
When I was 15ish got kicked square in the sternum by my mare a moment after I turned her out through the rungs of the gate. Thankfully she was only maybe 2 or 3 feet away so not at full leg extension Regardless swelled right up whats better then 2 boobs....3! Had a full horse hoof shaped bruise over the huge hematoma and a broken sternum ...apparently I'm lucky according to the Dr the mare had such bad aim. No amount of explaining could get him to reconcile that the mare was just "kicking up her heals" not trying to remove my head from my shoulders.
Second I was standing in the isle talking and got bit and picked up by the meat in the middle of my back and chucked down the center isle into the opposing stall door. It left two ( ) shaped deep gashes in my back. I think I had to explain 50 times that they were horse bites and NO I didn't think the horse was rabid nor did they need to report it to Animal Control. The attending ever so politely forgot to numb the area before he started scrubbing and debriding away I jumped to my feet so fast I know I scared him!
"I would not beleive her if her tongue came notorized"
I worked at a barn in high school that had a steep uphill wooden ramp that we had to push wheelbarrows up to dump manure into the spreader. I was working off board by mucking stalls a few days a week. My mother dropped me off (I didn't drive at the time), and left me to do my stalls.
A big ice/snow storm had hit recently, and unbeknownst to me, the ramp to the spreader was EXTREMELY slick and covered with a thin layer of ice. As I was pushing the wheelbarrow up the ramp, I slipped and hit the edge of the wheelbarrow face-first, lacerating my upper lip, and shoving my lips into my braces. I had to call my mom all mush-mouth and crying to get her to take me to the hospital.
I ended up with 10 stitches between the inside and outside of my lip after they pulled my top lip off the braces brackets. I had additionally knocked loose the tooth next to my front tooth (2nd incisor?), and had to have that pulled. I had to have a screw implanted in my upper jawbone to have a fake tooth put in. My parents were so generous and kind about the whole thing, but I'm sure the dental costs were astronomical. It was about 2 months before the fake tooth could get put in, so I spent spring of my sophomore year not opening my mouth.
I remember the ER nurse trying not to laugh because I couldn't answer any questions because my lips were stuck in my braces.
My big, uh, ER win was when I injured all 4 limbs in about the most cartoonish way possible. I was moving the recently emptied trash bin (one of those big black ones) back to Ana's paddock. These things are a bit top-heavy when empty, and when the bin hit a bump on the ground, it fell backwards toward me. The lid hit the ground in front of me, and I stepped (stumbled) onto it...which made the bin stop with a jolt, which sent me lurching forward, which resulted in both knees nailing the lid on the way down and then my forearms nailing the edge of the opened bin. Added bonus: I also smacked my forehead (and knocked off my hat) on the inside of the bin. TA DAHHHHHH!
When I got up, I first checked that no one saw me (they didn't). Then I realized I still had to muck Ana's stall and feed her. As I was feeding, I realized my arm still hurt and saw it had a huge lump on it. Awesome, I think. I'm going to have to tell the story to a doctor.
I waited until the next day to go to urgent care (at my coworkers' urging when they saw my big purple arm). The x-rays were clean, though the doc suspected a crack that (according to him) is of the type that doesn't always show on x-ray. It took weeks to regain full function. My left knee was quite bruised and sore, but mostly okay; my left arm had an ugly but substantially smaller bruise. My right neck and shoulder were KILLING me--turns out I gave myself a bit of whiplash.
The funny part was the urgent care doc, seeing the multiple bruises and marks on me, asking in a serious, low, gentle tone, "Now tell me...how did this happen?" I honestly think he thought I was some sort of domestic abuse victim. As I told him the story, I saw his eyes change from dark and concerned to twinkling with humor--you KNOW he retold that story more than once.
Last edited by Lauruffian; Apr. 30, 2013 at 06:22 PM.
One Christmas while visiting my grandparents, my 120+ lb german shepherd mix wandered into the middle of a patch of prickly pear cactus. I impulsively decided to rescue him by picking him up like you would a baby calf or lamb - planning to carry him to safety. I am not strong, but the adrenaline actually got me a few steps before I fell. Dog went nose first into more cacti, and I managed to plant both palms into cacti. We hobbled back to the house and removed the spines with pliers. In addition to big spines, there are tiny translucent ones and the barbs of the spines stuck in deep. I made it back to Tampa and realized my now horrendously swollen, red, and oozing hands needed professional help, so I went to the military base acute care / er.
Everyone working there had to stop by to hear my tale of stupidity and look at my festering cellulitis palms filled with cacti remains. And, just to make sure more people got to hear the story, the ER doc refers me to the hand surgeon - as a joke, I'm sure. Though she seriously contemplated surgery to remove all of the little embedded bits and pieces. I ended up on antibiotics and having to soak my hands pretty much continuously until all of the cacti remains worked their way out. My job at the time was in sales - w/ endless handshaking; so I got to share my stupidity w/ umpteen people as I declined to shake their hands w/ my cacti infested hands. I hate cactus now.
Disclaimer: Just a beginner who knows nothing about nothing