My worst fall was the first time I took my little Appy out by myself. Stupid of me, he’d always done nose to tail trail rides before I bought him. We were just walking along and I accidentally dropped a stirrup. I swear he took advantage–went from a nice amble to full speed bolt in one second. I landed on my head (no helmet, very stupid) then rolled, ripping out half my hair. I looked like someone had beaten me all over the upper body with a baseball bat. My glasses popped out of their frames, and when I came to, I was scrabbling around in the dirt for them.
A jogger came along, said he was looking for the dead person. He’d caught my horse and tied him to a fence before he could cross a busy street by himself. Why do people keep asking me if I’m dead?
I was due for a CT scan of my thyroid the next day, after I gave a presentation at work. I still have no memory of giving that presentation, although my friend said I “did as well as you usually do.” At the CT scan, they wanted to know who beat me, and thought I was there for my injuries. Nope, just a routine appointment.
I had a lot of stuff done at that radiology department, and every time I walked in, they all yelled “sell the horse!” I finally did, after the torn rotator cuff I mentioned up thread.
Rebecca