Saturday, April 16, 2011

I was ten. I loved horses. I hated homework.

It all started on a Tuesday. I was walking home from school; I lived right down the road from the two-roomed schoolhouse that I attended so it wasn’t a super long walk. I remember walking past the Jones’s house, right side of the road, and thinking how unnaturally clean their yard was. I had seen them multiple times out in their yard picking up sticks. I always thought, “I guess that is what old people do. I definitely do not want to get old.” I kept walking until I saw the Reed’s house. They had a dog named Joker who was so fluffy you could use him as a pillow.
The first thing I noticed about the Reed’s house, wasn’t the house, it was that my mother was walking our new horse, Remington through the Reed’s yard. The second thing I noticed was that my sister was on him. The third was that I wasn’t, and I wanted to be. I ran over and asked, “Can ride him, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaase?”
“Do you have homework?” asked my mother.
“Yeah,” I said
“Go do your homework, and then come back out.”
“Fiiiine,” I replied.
Well as a child, I always did my homework as fast as I could so I could get it done and go play. That is exactly what I did; I blew through my homework like it was nothing. Not erasing if I messed up, made answers up, and didn’t correct misspelled words. I wanted on that horse.
When I was done I ran outside and to my mom and said, “Done, can I ride him noooow, please, please, please, please? With lots of cherries and chocolate and caramel and nuts and everything else you like on top?”
“But I’m not done!” my sister Leah whined.
“But you’ve been riding him, it’s my turn!”
“You can ride with her, here I’ll put you up there,” my mom interrupted us.
At this point I stuck my tongue out at my sister while she rolled her eyes at me. I was sitting on Remington’s butt with my arms wrapped around my sister’s waist while she was sitting in the saddle. I believe we took two steps when all of the sudden I wasn’t on the horse anymore, I wasn’t even touching anything other than my sister.
Then everything went black.

I was in bed. I needed to go to the bathroom before I peed my pants. But I was so comfortable; I didn’t want to get up.
But I had to.
I really needed to pee.
Ugh.
I got up, but…why was I at my dad’s house?
Oh well, bathroom.
My bladder thanked me so much.
Back to bed.
But why does my back hurt so badly?
Why is my bed so hard?
Is it morning?
I slowly opened my eyes. It wasn’t dark, and I definitely was not in bed. Why were people crowding around me? Wait, Why are the Rittersdwarfs here? Hold on a minute, where am I?
On the ground, I can feel the grass.
What am I doing on the ground?
I was on the horse.
So that must mean I fell off, but where’s Leah? Oh there she is. She’s not on the horse either. Why does everything hurt? Where is Mom?
I heard someone say, “She’s awake!”
“Faith? Don’t move, don’t move okay?” it was my mom, she sounded worried.
“What happened? It hurts.”
“The horse bucked you off, and Leah landed on you. Don’t move I said. The ambulance is on its way.”
I heard some random person in the background say, “ I hear the ambulance; they are getting close.”
I heard them too. I wished they would hurry. I felt my mom by me. I whispered to her, “Mom, I think I peed my pants.”
“Don’t worry, I think I did too,” she whispered back.
That made me feel better, She didn’t even fall off the horse.
“They are here,” someone said.
“Faith hold still I’m going to go get them, kay?”
“Okay.”
I heard them in the background, “She’s over here.”
The first thing they did was put a neck brace on me; it was hard to breathe in.
“Okay, we are going to move you onto a backboard now,” one of the EMT's said.
“Okay,” I mumbled.
They rolled me on my side and set the backboard under me then strapped me in. Then they said, “We are going to lift you to the stretcher okay?"
"Alright," I mumbled.
"Okay lift on three, 1, 2, 3 lift." They wheeled me to the ambulance asking me questions about the day, the president, the year, the month, and I tried to answer them to the best of my ability, but remembering the day of the year was definitely not the first thing on my mind. They let my mom ride in the back with me, which made me feel a lot better, I was scared that everyone was freaking out as much as they were.
Is it really that bad?
Did I break something?
If I broke something, shouldn't I hurt more?
My head hurts enough to be broken.
Where are we?
Are we close to the hospital?
These were all thoughts that raced through my head. It seemed to take absolutely no time to get to the hospital, and I don't even remember them wheeling me inside. I honestly don't even remember any of the tests they ran or the x-rays they took. I remember them telling my mother I was fine, but I was going to be sore the next few days, and my mother thanking God that it wasn't anything worse. She later told me that she was afraid that I broke my back, because after I passed out I curled up into a ball and I guess that is a sign of a broken back. I remember lying in a room waiting to be let out when some neighbors came to say hi. They stayed for a little bit and then left. They finally let my sister and my step dad come back to see me. I had my mom ask my sister to get me some clean clothes because I was not going home in pee pants. Of course, my sister grabbed a bra instead of underwear, and I was never the type to like to go commando, but I also didn't have any other choice.
They let me go that night, and as I walked out of the hospital in no wheelchair, or crutches, and just a little bruised, I thanked God myself for not getting more hurt. I realize, even to this day, that I can't take anything for granted and that I am so lucky I have all of my limbs, my mind, and all of my family.

Just keep learning.
-Faith

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