The One that got Away~ SNOW! part 20

Heading east the weather remained dreary. No hard rains, just bleak. Gray and bleak. I remembered all too clearly why I hated West Texas, also known as the ninth ring of hell. I spent seven long years at the base of the Panhandle and pray I am never asked to do that again. Coming from the Carolinas and Virginia, the flat, treeless plains looked more like a war zone to me.

I don't know why anyone would choose to live there. The people I suppose. Some of the best people on earth live in that part of the world. It sure ain't for the scenery.

The dogs were restless most of the way home. They had been good where it counted; certainly hoped Jan felt the same. They followed my rules, all business outside, don't tear up anything. No telling how many of Jan's rules may have been broken. Maybe not too many. Flash made quite the impression on Jan's family. Think he ended up being every one's favorite. They are basset folks to begin with. In fact, my first basset came from Jan. That too is another story.

The trip going flew by! Returning home drug on and on. I simply didn't get my visit out.

Didn't help that I stopped at every little town. I flat did not want to go home. I had been in that house for soooo long. Just can't tell you how wonderful it was to get out. Even if it was to West

Texas!

My body felt good as well. My neck felt tight, but no pain. I iced at Jan's but no more than I would had I stayed home. It was too soon to call it, but I felt confident the trip did me more good than harm.

About an hour before sundown, the sun came out. My mood lifted as I watched the most amazing Rising Rainbow peek through the clouds.

It's colors brilliant! I might have about an hour of sunlight, which I oh so needed. I am easy. Look to the sky and that's the color Terri you'll get for the day. I can only go without sunny skies but for so long. My brain needs sunshine. It's that simple.

Though I was dragging tail about getting home, I did the right thing by leaving when I did. I had checked the weather for our area. The forecast called for heavy rains turning to snow. We had had a crazy winter, with more to come it seemed.

Lonnie was home preparing for an annual band convention; due to leave in the morning. He would be heading south so snow shouldn't be a concern for him.

I finally got home! Seemed to take forever! I have a big hole in my memory. I don't recall anything past Mineral Wells. But I trust the remainder of the trip to be uneventful.

Obviously I got home. I'm sure I fed and checked on Maggie. I know the dogs didn't miss a meal or their night walk. I know I must have shared my visit with Jan with Lonnie. Probably in far too much detail for him. Just no memory of any of it. Well, I did fall on my head ya know!

I do remember Lonnie leaving in a downpour the next morning. We were under a winter storm warning, but again, he was headed to San Antonio, away from the worst of it. I offered thanks for this. He can be a fool when it comes to driving in bad weather. Oh, he is an excellent driver, no matter the conditions. However, I have seen him strike out in weather that a thinking person wouldn't dare attempt to drive in. Before cell phones I could worry myself silly. Now, not so much.

Soon after he left, the rain turned to sleet. I had gotten busy helping Lonnie finish last minute packing, trying to help make sure he had everything he needed for convention.

I hadn't fed the outside animals. I grabbed my coat, slipped my feet in my muckers and out the backdoor I went.

In that short amount of time the sound of the sleet against the windows quickened.

It stung my face, pelting down with no mercy. The sting so sharp it felt more like bee stings; so very cold my skin perceived heat. I attempted to shield my face with one arm and run. Never a good idea for me anymore. By the time I reached the hay barn my fingers were bright red and numb. So numb it was hard to get the door open. Why had I not grabbed my gloves?!!

Got everyone fed and made a bee line for the house. Lord, it was cold! Decided my bed sounded good, awfully early anyway. I could get in an early morning nap.

I crawled back into the bed, making a cave of the down comforter. Flash was still curled in a tight circle sleeping; I pulled his body up to mine in hopes of stealing his warmth. He grunted, releasing a long moan but that was it. Dead to the world. Soon the schnauzer sisters and Max joined us. Old Max, circling and nesting, searching for the crook of my legs. This had been his place to nap for years. The sisters ended up on my feet, which felt good. Once they tried sleeping in Flash's spot, near my head. He warned them with a low, menacing growl. A sound unlike any other I had heard before from him. He seemed willing to share food, toys and bones; guess he had to draw the line some where. His spot had been right by my head, sometimes on my pillow. On this issue he refused to budge.

I counted on another hour of sleep, then up to start the day. Instead we all had slept an additional two and a half hours!! I woke to puppies licking my face. Their way of communicating they needed outside. Soon Flash woke, jumped from the bed and realized his bladder to be full as well. All three squirming and dancing to go outdoors. Hung over with sleep, I crawled out of bed, searching for leashes. Why couldn't I ever put the leashes in the same place?!!! The leashes were buried under my heavy coat; rigged the babies up and we were rolling. Opened the door to Snow! Big Snow! Flakes as large as my fist! Beautiful snow! I hadn't seen a snow like this since I left Virginia!!! Puppies made it to the edge of the porch, but refused to leave. Better there than in the house. Back inside to get Flash, who didn't mind the snow at all. Max continued to sleep. He'd get up eventually.

The snow continued to come down. So heavy the hay barn was barely visible! The red trim allowed me to make out the outline of the building. That was it! Too bad we had had so much rain. No way would we get any accumulation with the ground so wet. I reminded myself to catch the noon news, hoping none of this would turn to ice. Ice storms could get nasty in north Texas, nasty and dangerous.

The noon news indicated we could receive between 7-9 inches of snow! Despite the wet ground, it was sticking. The whole place, now covered, looked like a post card. Pulled on all of my heaviest outer wear, including gloves, grabbed my camera, and off I went.! I wished Lonnie could have been here! Hated he missed this snow!

Ended up with some beautiful pictures. The snow kept falling well in to the afternoon and early evening. I tuned in to the six o'clock news. Ten inches had been called in for our little community. Maybe, just maybe some would be left for Lonnie.

Fed after dark and while the snow still fell the temp didn't seem quite as bad. Wrangled supper up for myself, fed the dogs and prepared for the last walk of the day. The puppies were becoming braver with each trip out. By bedtime walk they actually played in the snow! Diving into deep drifts, only to disappear then reappear. Snow clumps packed in their little beards as well as the rest of their furnishings. What a mess! oh, well, they would clean up.

By ten o'clock we had broken many snow records for north Texas. We had received an official

12.2 inches!! Didn't sound as if it would last long. Temps for tomorrow were to reach the mid 50's. This was Wednesday night. No chance of Lonnie seeing this record breaking snow. He wasn't due home til Saturday.

By the next morning the snow had started to melt. Still much on the ground and I was able to get some great photos, but clearly things would be a mess in another day.

Sure sorry Lonnie wasn't here to enjoy this with me. Couldn't wait for him to return home. Perhaps he would enjoy the pictures and most of the slosh would be gone by Saturday evening.

There was always that hope.

The One that got Away~ Road Trip~ part 19

The thunderstorms varied in intensity as I made my way west. At times the steel gray skies dumped torrents of rain, others barely a drizzle.

The dogs had been unusually good, sleeping most of the way.

At some point we pulled over at a Dairy Queen for a pit stop for all of us. I don't even remember the name of the town, but I knew I was in west Texas. All small towns had Dairy Queens; a sure sign of being westward bound.

The cold rain had slowed to a sprinkle. This being a good thing. I dreaded the thought of traveling with three soaked dogs. Not being a good planner, I had only packed one large towel. Not enough for all of us should we get soaked. I watched the skies, telling each dog to,"Hurry, Hurry, Hurry!"

Because of the chilly drizzle, they complied. Ready to return to the warmth of the truck.

Back on the road, I too was thankful to be in the cab of my truck. February rains in Texas could turn nasty. Unconcerned, I continued moving west. As long as I could see the road I knew I would be fine. Should the rain turn extremely heavy my first instinct had always been to pull over. My father consistently had reminded me this to be a dangerous practice. The risk being other drivers inability to see me only to smack square into me. Perhaps the rain would back off, not letting loose into a full blown west Texas thunderstorm.

Topping a small hill, I looked forward to see my first wind farm. The size of these things were staggering. I felt I might be in a sci-fi movie. The propellers stretched up into the clouds and were difficult to see. As they rotated, fog and clouds were pushed aside to reveal one to two propellers, only to disappear, being swallowed by fog again. The sheer size of these things frightened me, yet I found myself mesmerized. I pulled in to a safe farm entrance and grabbed my camera. Stepping outside the truck, I anticipated the maddening hum I had read so much about. Silence. Perhaps I wasn't close enough. The white propellers were too hidden by the fog and clouds. I knew any shot I took would be wasted. Maybe on the way home skies might be clearer. Perhaps then I could get my shot.

Back on the road. We were making good time, despite the weather. We could possibly be at Jan's in as little as an hour or two. I could feel the excitement mounting. The dogs were still asleep. Good for me, potentially bad when we reached Jan's. They would be loaded for bear. I prayed they would behave themselves. Passed through yet another small town, noticing my gas gauge. " I should get gas," I remembered thinking. The rain beat down on my windshield, making it difficult to see. I decided to wait to the next town. Hoping the rain would let up.

Through the driving, pelting rain I read the highway sign, next town 38 miles. I checked the gauge again. It sat dangerously on empty, not convinced I would make it to the next gas pumps.

Stupid!!!! I had forgotten how far apart these towns could be out here in no man's land. I thought about turning around yet I had already driven almost 20 miles. Broad as it was long.

The only thing to do was to press forward, all the while praying I had gas enough to make it.

I continued pushing onward, thinking of plan B should one be needed. The safest thing would be to hit a farmhouse, explain my situation, then hope pity be taken upon me and gas shared. I loved the people of west Texas. Most all were willing to help a stranger.

I did not have to depend on the kindness of strangers after all. We made it to the next community and I made sure I topped off my tank. We were only 11 miles from Jan's! Wow! It had been a fast trip! I called her cell and let her know I was getting close.

She talked me in, helping me find her FM road. Dark had caught me. I suffered a mean case of night blindness. I had told her once dark, I would need help.

Finally, I saw She and her husband, standing on their well lit front porch, waving like fools!!

So many emotions filled me as I slowly sought the mouth of her drive. I wanted to forego parking, slap the truck in park, and run to her. I didn't. I've been told my energy is very expansive and can be quite overwhelming at times. Instead, I parked, forgot about running as I didn't do that well anymore, walked to the porch and hugged her. I felt the years melt away with that one hug and knew I had done the right thing by coming. Sometimes when friendships lapse for long periods of time, they can't be rekindled. No matter how much one might prop, strain, work to regain that closeness, it's gone. This one thought had stayed with me during the whole drive west. No, we were fine.

We entered her home and it felt wonderful. So welcoming. I met the two younger children, who were no longer children. A pang of guilt struck deep. I had missed their entire childhoods. How had I allowed this to happen? I wanted to take them both in my arms; but they were strangers.

In my excitement I all but forgot about the dogs in the truck! Back to the truck I went, whispering up a prayer for the three to behave themselves. I knew the basset would behave. He has yet to see a stranger, human or animal. The schnauzer sisters were, well, schnauzers. If you know the breed, you understand. Stubborn as mules. Very loving, but strong willed. At six months a day came when they had driven me to distraction! My riding crop just happened to be in the house. I grabbed it, whacked the wall with it and screamed "NO." Then stung two little bottoms. Just one pop a piece.They were more frightened than hurt, but it worked. I packed my riding crop just in case they needed a gentle reminder. Since that day my crop has hung in plain view on the key pegs in the kitchen.

After much circling and smelling, the dogs settled in. Thank goodness Jan hadn't a problem with animals on the furniture. All my dogs are cuddlers and enjoyed a good lap on which to lay their heads. Regretfully, I have only two rules. Do all business outdoors. Don't tear my stuff up. That's it.

Suddenly I became tired. The road started catching up with me, the initial adrenaline began to wane and I wanted a bed. Jan's face looked pinched with pain. Oh how I knew that look. Not just from the mirror, but from all the years I worked with folks in chronic pain. Yes, time to rest. The kids had school the next day as well. Jan and I could visit the whole of tomorrow.

Schnauzer pups made the night just fine in their crate. Flash however, spent his night playing musical beds. Apparently, he began the night with me, then went visiting everyone else as well. Now when I say visiting I mean he literally spent the night going from bed to bed, sleeping with

everyone in the house. Flash thinks everyone loves him. This could be my fault. He had a rough go of it his first year, prior to being rescued. Wise or not I cut my rescues more slack. They usually have so little confidence; I spend the first year attempting to rebuild self esteem. This took no time with the basset. And while I do my best not to have favorites, he knew. The connection I had made with him ran deep. But that is another story for another time.

Jan and I spent our days visiting, eating, taking naps, then visiting some more. I wished she had felt better; that being my only regret.

She pulled out an old high school annual which triggered a flood of memories for us both. There we were, so young, so fresh faced. Smiling up at ourselves with big dreams and raw determination.

The younger versions of ourselves locking eyes with the women we had become. "Didja ever

think we would be sitting here at fifty, still friends?"she asked, a look of disbelief on her face. The silly answer on my part was yes, I never doubted it. I always believed we would be friends. I found it harder to believe we had drifted apart. Guess I never really expressed how important she was to me, how loved. If I ever took our friendship for granted, I certainly regretted it now. Jan had always been a treasure to me. A friendship, just like a marriage, must be tended. Perhaps I had stopped the tending. I made a quiet promise to myself to not allow that to happen again.

She asked if I still wrote and I shook my head no. I made all manner of excuses but the real truth was I had convinced myself years ago I had nothing worthwhile to say. Writing was a childhood dream.

Oh, I had written some stuff as an adult; most of it landed in the trash. Then I got busy. Told myself I hadn't the time for such anymore. As I repeated this to Jan her jaw slowly dropped. "Never throw away anything you have started! You may revisit it later and all kinds of ideas may come to you." Well that ship had sailed. Too late now.

"Come here," she motioned me to follow her to her computer. With the touch of several buttons up popped my new blog. She told me she was going to do this. I half hoped she had forgotten.

She asked some basic questions, all the while striking keys, making magic happen.

"Now, here is your new blog. You are gonna love this, Terri." She had to be wrong. Then Jan handed me a set of handwritten instructions; how to open, how to close, how to post. My head began to swim. "Jan, you don't understand, I have no computer skills!" She brushed her hand in the air as if to say,"don't wanta hear it." I had seen her in her classroom years ago. She was in full blown teacher mode. "OK, I'll try." I knew she was not going to take no for an answer.

I felt I had no sooner gotten there, when it was time to go. I still don't know where the time went. I think I had added an extra day to my trip as it stood. Still, I didn't feel ready to leave. The weather stayed nasty for my whole visit. Gray, damp and drizzly. Other than the weather, it had been tons of fun. I thought about asking if I could stay another day, but then decided I best not wear out my welcome. Besides, I needed to get home. Checked the weather on my phone and we were in store for yet another snow. I sure didn't need to be caught in that.

Had my things packed and back in the truck the next morning. Actually, I started in the morning; I think it was closer to noon before I backed out of Jan's drive.

I would feel ready to leave then convince myself I had left something behind. Another walk through. Nothing. Again I would head toward the truck, stop, return to the house. I became certain I was leaving something important behind.

Well, what ever it was, I couldn't see it. Shoot! Whatever it was, Jan could mail it to me.

I refused to walk through her home another time. I had to get on the road!

She stood in the drizzle on her porch, waving goodbye. So much like I had found her just a few nights earlier. I wonder if she knew at that moment, just how much I loved her.

I learned two things on my trip west.

I had reached an age that I couldn't make new old friends.

It sure was nice to have an old friend to help you remember who you used to be.

I had driven maybe 50 miles east when I realized what I had left behind.

I had forgotten a little piece of my heart.

The One that got Away~ Old Friend~ part~18

By early winter, I could saddle my own horse, with no help. I could feel the strength slowly returning to my body. The feed bucket I had used as a mounting block had long since been tossed.

Now when I say saddle, that is a stretch. Maggie allowed me to waller the saddle up her side, then back. I couldn't have asked for a more forgiving horse.

Our rides consisted mainly of working in the arena. We both needed much reteach time. She had forgotten nothing, only grown lazy. Guess she decided she had reached full retirement and wasn't quite sure she wanted to return to the workforce.

Some rides we accomplished a great deal. Some she actually acted a fool. I understand I have painted a fairly benign picture of this horse, but she is far from a beginners' horse. I learned early on why lunging was so important prior to riding. Alexis had explained she needed to work the vinegar out of her. I disagreed.

Every day brought a brand new day for Maggie. She was the dominant mare, my alpha girl. Each day the record had to be set straight. The groundwork provided this for both of us. It allowed me to reinforce the very real fact that I was the true alpha mare. Sometimes I hated the fact this time had to be wasted prior to riding. The times I skipped this step the ride usually ended up being unpleasant. Other times I loved watching her mind work at the end of the line. Oh, the bucking, the kicking, her drama. I found all of these amusing. After a bit, her body would relax,

accept my cues, and finally, when asked to whoa, that short stop, her spinning to face me, licking, sighing, all but asking, "What might I do for you now?" I loved her most at these times. The last test. Standing completely still, lunge line on ground, holding eye contact with me. Oh so tempted to move toward me, but not allowed. After several minutes of standing and maintaining eye contact, only then would she be cued to move to me. By patting my hand over my heart, this gave her permission to enter my space. At this point, we were ready to ride. At this point she realized I was the alpha mare.

Winter would soon be here. I understood we were to have a harsher winter than usual. I hated the cold, especially the wild north winds, so piercing, so unforgiving. I found soon enough my body could no longer tolerate the cold. The neck spasms returned, along with deep, aching shoulder pain. It took longer to dress to feed than it took to feed.

Back into retirement Maggie and I returned. I prayed for an early spring. Instead, winter of 09 became one of our coldest; we even had a white Christmas! Our first in 80 years! Oh, how I wanted to ride in the snow but I knew better. Best to stay inside.

The winter days drug on. Again, I had lots of time to think, which isn't always a good thing for me. I felt trapped back indoors. Most importantly, I had to accept the fact that my days of doing bodywork were probably over. This issue I had ignored for months. I had renewed my license in October, knowing the whole while I would probably never use them.

For everything there is a time and a season. I don't know how I knew, but I did. That time in my life was over. It was supposed to be over. Intuitively I understood should I attempt to replicate that experience, I would fail. I had accepted this.

I felt stuck. Winter has always been a hard season for me, particularly this winter. I filled the days caring for my animals, kinda cleaning house and running mundane errands. This had become my life. The key~stay busy. I looked about the house. Everything was cream colored.

I am anything but cream.

I started in the living room; a rich earthy red. With the white trim and mouldings, everything popped.I loved the color, so warm and inviting. This was close to the same color I had painted my waiting area. By the time I finished with this room, my legs had gained quite a bit of strength, just from climbing the ladder.

I moved to the cream colorless kitchen. BLAH! Back to the paint store. I found the most lovely

shade of almost periwinkle, named thistle. If you don't have thistle weed in your state, sorry. I don't know how to describe it. It is spot on the color of the thistle plant. Very cool toned and the most amazing array of accent colors can be used with this color. When I climbed down the last time to wash my brush, the waistband of my fat jeans had loosened. I was working off some weight!!!

Next to the bathroom. I loved the master bath. It was a large room and with the huge mirrors, it tricked the eye in believing it was even larger. It too was cream. Cream had worn me out!

I found a rich mink brown. This took courage for me. I feared getting too dark, too extreme.

The brown ended up being perfect. This room also had a large east window; combined with the mirrors it did feel spacious. In the pre-brown morning light, this room could be blinding. The brown took care of this as well. And like the thistle, so many accent colors complimented the rich mink. And, once again, more weight had been lost.

All this painting answered no life questions. Maybe I could hire out as a painter. I must say, I am good. Had an uncle that was a professional painter. He and my dad had left me with tons of pro painting tips. Yes, I can paint, but I am sloooow. If paid by the job, I would starve to death. Besides, I had to be careful with my neck. I had to take many breaks during the day to ice my neck. This added to the time as well.

Nix the pro painter idea.

Oh, what to do? I had always worked outside the home. I enjoyed people. I loved the stimulation of being around others. I so missed this.

Lonnie had gotten an iPhone for me plus opened a Facebook account. His sweet attempt in helping me feel less isolated. This was for Christmas. I had messed with it a little and knew how to operate the simplest of apps.

My neck had become sore enough I knew I needed to take a break from the brush.

I opened the FB app and began looking. I think I had about a dozen friends. I began making contacts. Most were casual friends. We could chit chat about weather, current events and the like.

Let me explain. I came into the 21st century kicking and screaming against technology.

I refused to use computers. I hated them. I believed the more electronically we became connected, the more disconnected we became personally.

I still wanted paper mail. I wanted to see handwriting, as personal as DNA, scrawled across an envelope. I loved hearing voices on the other end of the line. I still mourned the death of my rotary dial phone!!!

I was the original neo-Luddite.

Soon I realized if I wanted any contact with my children, I had to learn to text. We all know we will do anything for our kids. Today, I text.

Maybe having FB friends wouldn't be so bad. It might actually be fun. I found myself thinking of so many people I had lost contact with over the years. What had happened?

I no sooner had this thought when her name jumped off the screen at me. It was Jan!

My Jan!! Jan who had been my dearest friend since high school! Jan! My writer friend! She was editor of our little school paper. I was her sidekick. We were going to grow up to be writers!

We cheered each other on, always had the others back.

We married within the same year. We had our daughters 11 months apart. Unfortunately, we divorced within a few years of one another, then later remarried and had sons 3 weeks to the day apart.

What had happened? We had not talked in years. She continued to have children (2 more) and they were very close together. About the same time I was back in school and had moved many miles away. I suppose our lives had become busy. Poor excuse but that was all I had.

After several postings and a few phone conversations the 15 years melted away. We were caught up and continued to chatter as if no time had passed at all.

She had had surgery at Christmas. Continued to be in much pain asking,"When ya gonna come see me?" I think she was half kidding. Too bad. "Let me make arrangements for all my animals.

They keep me pretty home bound. I'll see if I can board them." "Oh Lord, just bring em. We even have room for the horse." Clearly, she didn't mean it. "Bring them, Terri! They can't hurt one thing!"

I promised to call her when I had made all arrangements. "We'll talk soon!"

I hung up more excited than I had been in months! I couldn't wait to see her, be in her kitchen, see her children, and get out of this house!!!!

The distance of the trip concerned me. I'd be traveling half way across Texas. Think I was looking at 6-7 hours with 3 dogs. Maybe longer. Well, there was no way to know if my neck would make the trip without driving it. This would be the longest distance traveled since the accident.

I loved rode trips! I had not been anywhere in so long! Ordinarily I would dread the ride to her part of Texas. Not much to see and nothing to do when ya get there!

But I was going to see Jan! I could so understand how she was feeling. When I was at my very worst, some days I would cry. Just the chronic pain and loneliness drove me to tears.

I prayed my visit would lift her spirits.

I left a couple of days later. The guys had full instructions on Maggie's care. Max, the 16 year old mix breed wasn't going with us. This trip would be too hard on him.

My travel buddies would be one basset hound along with two schnauzer sisters. I figured if our friendship could withstand 4 muddy dogs(counting her one and it was storming) 2 teenagers and 2 old women in pain........well, we could withstand most anything.

The rain beat down as I headed west. West to the flat lands. West to find her home on the range. West to find my old friend.

The One that got Away~Victory Ride~ part 17

Four weeks had passed since the second series of injections and no pain. Each morning I crawled out of bed, only to give thanks. Maybe, just maybe.......

Strict orders were given by Doc to do nothing for 6 weeks. Back to no laundry, lifting, sweeping, vacuuming, ect. I complied to the letter this time.

My feet stuck to the kitchen floor( can't believe I am admitting this) sometimes the bathrooms looked more like public restrooms, but I learned not to care. All of my friends worked, and could barely stay on top of their own homes. My daughter at this time was working two jobs. Didn't want to ask her. Checked into cleaning services. They were asking $75 to cross the threshold of my home; from there the prices climbed. So we lived in filth. Sometimes it would get bad enough for Luke to break down and clean, not often, but sometimes.

I had promised myself no matter what, I was going to get better. If I had to live in filth to do so, so be it.

The sixth week came, still no pain. I had an appointment with Doc B in a few days. I felt good about this upcoming appointment. I had latched on to hope like a drowning soul would cling to a life preserver. I had visited that dark, hopeless place and never wanted to go back.

The drugs had long left my system and all visions of men, snakes and alligators had evaporated.

My thinking had become clearer and more rational. The only med I was on now was a muscle relaxer at bedtime.

I had to be improving for now I felt good enough to worry about my weight. Prior to this I hurt too badly to care. I had gone from a toned 122lbs. to an unhealthy 164lbs. Most of the gain due to steroids and my new sedentary lifestyle. Before the fall I was riding an average of 10 to 15 hours a week and doing yoga 4 to 5 mornings a week as well. I had trained my body to contort in ways I couldn't have accomplished at twenty five. In the best of all worlds I hoped to resume yoga; I had excepted the fact that probably wasn't going to happen.

I had to find some way to get the weight off. I had been thin all of my life, too thin at times but always felt good. Doc was starting to encourage me to diet. Apparently huge breasts were bad for the neck as well.

After my sixth round of steroids and an additional ten pounds, my brother decided to come see me. I was feeling well enough to meet him at the airport. I was so excited. O how I love my brother and his visit gave me something to look forward to. I didn't even care what condition the house was in. I wanted to see my brother! Just to sit with me a while would be gift enough.

I continued to complain of my weight, however, I think he believed to be listening to his overly dramatic sister. " No really, I'm gonna have to meet ya at the airport carrying a sign which reads ' Your fat sister!' You won't know me!" "Oh Terri, I would know you any where."

The day of his arrival had finally come. I entered the DFW terminal and spied him far across the way. Would've run had I been able. Instead, I walked as fast as I could to reach him. As I approached, he was bent over fooling with his luggage. He raised up and looked me square in the eye. No recognition at all. I stood for another second, then questioned, "Are you not gonna speak?" The voice gave me away. "Terri? Is that you? My goodness you're fat!" He instantly tried to explain what he meant; the truth was out. I was fat and he didn't know me. I laughed as he tried to back pedal assuring him it was just fine. I still love my brother.

All of the above to assure you, yes I was fat. If I had to choose between being overweight or in pain, fat would win out every time.

Because of my brother's visit I had rescheduled my check up with Doc. That day soon arrived and the check up went well. He lifted some of the physical restrictions, like lite housework. No yoga, well maybe lower body workouts. No riding, yet. YET! Yet meant soon! Yet meant it was in the cards! Yet meant it was a possibility. I could live with yet!!! I wanted to kiss him! I think I did bound from the table and hug him. With YET I could get my life back.

My last visit with Doc B was in September of 09. I had been released from his care, only to return if needed. He had finally given his permission and blessing! to begin riding again.

It had been sixteen long months since the fall. I had so much to catch up on! The house was still filthy but that was the last thing on my mind. With so very many options open to me now, I had no idea what to do first. Ride!!! That's what I wanted to do more than anything.

The next day I planned my maiden ride. I had continued the ground work with Maggie as soon as I was able. Feeling confident she would be fine, I insisted my son stay indoors. Silly, I know, but I wanted this to be a Maggie and me time. Got her shinning like a new penny, reached for her pad, landing it lightly on her back. Pulled my saddle up close, went to lift it and my arm gave way; just like the night I fell. I attempted to saddle many times, til my arm started hurting. Good night nurse!!!! The old Terri would've stood out there and slung that saddle til her arm fell off. Far too proud to ask for help. She would have cowgirled up and got 'er done.

No more. I had learned to let go of pride and ask for help.

Luke was inside with a friend. I tied Maggie, went inside and asked for help. He was only too happy to lend a hand. He had her saddle on her within seconds; leaving me feeling as if I had failed somehow. I pushed that thought from my mind, gathered reins, foot in stirrup then stopped. I had to take a moment to give thanks. I attempted to mount; no luck. I tried again, still no luck. I made it only half way up each time and that was it. My legs were weak. My left arm too weak to pull the extra 40 plus pounds I was packing. I retied Maggie and made my way to the house. "Luke, your mother is too fat to mount her own horse. Come give me a leg up."

I heard a deep sigh,however he met me with a smile. "Come on, I wanta get mounted before dark."

Back to the pasture we went, me chattering the whole way. I could no longer hold my excitement. We approached Maggie on her near side. She seemed totally confused at this point, with good reason.

After several failed attempts with the old leg up method, I began to wear out. I couldn't believe how weak I had gotten. Turning to face my son, I informed him I might have one more good hop in me,then I would be toast. " When I hop up, you get underneath my hindquarters and give me one good push!" The kid looked horror struck. "Mom, this is too awkward." His cheeks the color of county fair cotton candy. "Luke, it is just a butt. Everyone has one. We both should be on our knees thanking God you're just pushin' and not wiping. It could have been so much worse, hon." I have been called disarmingly honest by many. While I never intended to embarrass my son, I suppose I had done just that.

Up I hopped, my strength waning. about the time I was certain I was gonna slide back down, Luke grabbed me, shoved, my seat found leather. "Thanks, Luke." " Well Mom, if you ask me you are crazy. I would never get back on a horse again." Another teaching opportunity. Still out of breath from the exertion, (oh,Lord), I panted; Luke you can never allow fear to cheat you outta something you love, which brings you great joy. I'm nervous right now, but I pray I always find the courage to deafen that fear and move past it." I could see my son soaking in these words; I hoped he realized how profound his mother to be. "Naw Mom, you are just crazy, he responded, smiling. With that he turned and left the pasture.

We headed across the pasture in the fast walk. After a few turns and backing, I had to admit to myself all muscle memory was gone. Had I ever been on a horse before? I shifted my weight in the saddle. No better. I looked down at my hips and laughed out loud. I was packed tight in my old saddle. I no longer sat a 15 in. seat, that became obvious.

Not once during my ride around the pasture did things feel natural. I told myself my balance would return, the weight would come off, the saddle would become my second home again. All of this would take time. Time and practice.

I unsaddled and put Maggie away. I struggled with putting tack up; refusing to ask for help with that simple task. I lingered around Maggie a bit longer, knowing it was time to ice my neck.

I think I expected a marching band, cheers form all surrounding neighbors, including streamers perhaps some confetti floating down encircling us. None of those things happened.

I rode off balanced. I rode giving clumsy cues. I rode with my mind in the way, without instinct. I rode with my body braced and stiff. I rode exactly like a beginner.

The most empowering of all...........I rode.

The One that got Away~Alligators and Snakes part 16

I took an immediate shine to Dr.B. The energy of his office I found to be welcoming and upbeat.

The waiting room read like a who's who of professional athletes; complete with framed autographed pictures of football, basketball, hockey, ballerinas and even some pro horsemen. I felt certain I had come to the right place.

I completed all paperwork and within minutes I found myself in an exam room with Doc. I repeated the events of the accident for what seemed like the one hundredth time, with Doc interrupting to ask thoughtful, pertinent questions. Few professionals I had seen to date had bothered to ask questions. Another plus for Doc. He took extensive notes, leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, as if he had not another thing in the day to do. I had become accustomed to the other docs leaning forward, prescription pad in hand, almost rolling toward the door as I attempted to finish a sentence. No wonder he had been voted best doc in metroplex for 02,03,04,05,06, and 07. He actually listens and has time for his patients!!

Completed my third MRI and made a second appointment to return for the results. He had prescribed a drug for spinal cord injury and nerve pain. The nurse went over possible side effects and potential issues with other drug interactions. Another consideration never called to my attention. Oh how I wished I had found him months ago!

I returned to the follow up visit to review MRI results. His first question being," When did you break your shoulder?" What? I had never broken any bone in my body. He disagreed. My left shoulder had been broken in two places, recently. Apparently the healing had gone well, but he showed me the film and both breaks. The other doc had been so preoccupied with the torn muscles he either missed it altogether or never mentioned it to me. Wow! Now wonder it hurt!

Doc B assured me the shoulder had healed and was fine. However, he thought it odd I knew nothing of the breaks.

About a month after I fell Maggie coliced .I found her down around ten o'clock one evening and it took both Lonnie and myself to get her up. I keep Banamine on hand just for such occasions. Ran to the animal med cabinet and grabbed the tube. Most of the time this brings relief but not this evening. Long story cut short, I spent the night in the pasture with her. She was allowed to rest for a bit, as long as she didn't roll, then we'd get up and walk. I spent the night on the ground dozing, hearing her begin to move, pulling her up. No wonder I wanted to cry over the shoulder pain! I had no idea at this point it happened to be broken.

This went on til the vets' office opened at 7:30! Okay, maybe I had redeemed myself somewhat.

Think Tom and John Walker would be giving me a thumbs up!! Both men expected me to work and hang tough like a man. I too, expected the same. Being a girl was never an excuse.

Doc B thought I was doing well and I ventured to ask the all important question. Will I ride again? I spat the question out as if I were shooting peas through a straw. Ready for whatever answer may come. Eventually a guarded answer came." I will do everything I can to get you riding again. I understand how important this is to you. I can't make any promises. I can promise you two things; I will give you my best and you will have to change the way you ride.

Your cowgirling days are over. You are going to have to learn to ride like an old lady.

I didn't even know what that meant. I rode with old ladies; they rode hell bent for leather. One was 72 and still in the show ring with her reiner. Perhaps Doc would write a prescription for a reiner for me. I could just see me explaining that to the IRS.

" Do you hear me?" Doc's voice snapping me back to reality. The ability to focus and my short term memory hadn't been the same since last May. I suppose I had had one too many concussions over the years.

" Oh sure Doc, just get me outta pain and back in the saddle."

Then Doc telling me he would like to try another steroid. Great! Just for a week. Another 10 pounds! I now weighed 35 pounds more than I did before I fell. The weight made me feel miserable. I began to object when he interrupted me, promising this would be the last round.

I agreed to another round of steroids, promised to take it easy, ice three times a day, and stay on current meds.

I kept all promises. The last dose of steroids were stronger than any I had taken in the past. I have no way of explaining how my thought process changed. Someone else was in my head, controlling all thoughts and actions. Occasionally I would experience a moment of clarity, only to realize I was not myself. The side effects, much like an ocean wave, would swallow me and the drugs would win out.

Then there was the man who continued to look through the windows and front door glass. I could see his shadow pass out of the corner of my eye. He was crafty! I could never quite make him out, just his silhouette.

He had been lurking about for five days, however I never mentioned him to Lonnie. He would just worry. I knew I could take him on, that is, if I could catch him. Finally, one morning early,

I saw him at the front door. I raced to the door, threw it open, and screamed,"What do you want?" Already he was gone.Well, I had no doubt I would catch him and God help him when I did. He was messin' with the wrong woman!!

Days later, I went to feed. Coiled tightly on our patio lay a snake. He was the size of a car tire all coiled up. He reminded me of the braid my grandmother wore coiled on the back of her head. I bet that man left him there!

With or without drugs, I have an irrational fear of snakes. Lonnie wasn't home, but at night rehearsal with the band. Knowing better, I called his cell phone. "We have an emergency! You have to come home, now! Sobbing in to the phone I begged him to come. He turned the rehearsal over to one of his assistants and raced home.

The snake was gone. We spent an hour looking for him, never found him. Lonnie was beginning

to doubt there ever was a snake. I know I saw him! He was real! Couldn't convince Lonnie.

"Terri, I don't think there was a snake." But I saw him! I know he was here! Just as crafty as that man! Maybe now would be a good time to tell Lonnie about the man. We were friends with the county sheriff, perhaps he could help.

I explained to Lonnie I had been seeing a man looking through the windows for the last week.

I thought the snake to be one of his antics. We just needed to apprehend the man! Yes, that man had to be behind all of this! He had planted the snake!

Lonnie, forever calm and understanding, took me to the living room."Terri, think about this. When this man is lurking about the house, what are the dogs doing?" Oh, I saw where he was going with this. We live with three dogs with hearing and 16 year old Max who is deaf. A leaf can't blow across the place without the three dogs going nuts. Two are schnauzers, you can imagine.

"Terri, I don't think there is a man. I don't think there was a snake tonight. I know you believe what you are seeing; I think the medicine is making you see these things."

I took the time to gather my thoughts and choose my words."But this medicine works. My neck doesn't hurt. I don't have headaches. I simply am unwilling to go back to where I used to be. It's possible for me to learn to discern what is real and what is not." Lonnie in response,"I think you should call the doctor. Tell him what is going on and let him make the decision. This is the only safe way to handle this situation." I relented, however I didn't tell him when I would make that call.

Walking back from feeding the following night, there on our patio lay an alligator! I turned to run then realized he wasn't real either. I slowly turned back around and as I suspected, there was no alligator. I had either lost my mind or was having a terrible reaction to the drugs.

The next morning I called the office. Doc was out of town. The nurse insisted I stop all meds immediately. Visual hallucinations indicated a dangerous reaction to the drugs. Doc would be back Monday, come in then.

By Monday the old neck was screaming, the head exploding, the stomach churning. I couldn't stand to open my eyes. Every bump in the road felt more like a wooden roller coaster ride. The heat coming off my neck was blazing, though I was traveling with an ice pack. I think the pain had become worse since stopping the meds. By worse I mean worse than ever!

The nurse took one look at me, ushering me straight back to an exam room. Within minutes Doc joined me. Because of the pain, I recall little of the visit. I remember Doc saying it was time to move on to plan B. Plan B? No one told me of a plan B.

Time to go for the injections, says Doc. He went on to explain he does all his injections on Wednesdays. He could squeeze me in this Wednesday. "But I have already had injections, six in my shoulder." "Yes but you haven't had any in your neck. I try medication first, which is what we have done. You couldn't tolerate the medicine. Now, we move on to shots." I hurt badly enough I would've let him shoot me in the eyeballs.

I was given all the pre-op info and made plans to check in at 5:30 Wednesday. Lonnie and I drove down the night before to be sure I checked in on time.

I was to receive 10 shots in the facets of my neck. I would be under a general and remember nothing, which was fine with me! After the injections, I would be placed in a recovery room, monitored, then discharged.

Doc B made it so easy! When I came to I was in recovery with no pain!!!! No pain anywhere!

We were back home by 11:oo that morning!

The next three weeks were better than I had dared hoped. Limited still in activities, I had no pain. None!

The forth week came and with it the pain. With no warning I woke to scorching, pulling, spasms

just like before. This time I cried, the disappointment so great. I cried while I waited for Doc Bs' office to open.

Another round of shots. The nurse explained it was rare for only one round to work. "Let's get you scheduled for another appointment." Her perkiness seemed to make the pain worse.

"What if a second round doesn't do it?" I dreaded the answer but I had to know. " Doc B will complete up to three rounds of injections. If you are still experiencing pain after the third round, then surgery will be the next step."

"Now then, let's find you an opening."

The One that got Away~A Lost Year~ part 15

The trip to the ER, just as miserable as I feared, revealed few answers.

Yes, I had yet another concussion. By the time I was ushered back behind the magic curtain, my neck was singing! and no I did not have a broken arm. This a surprise to all. While I had officially lost my title as Velcro Butt, my never having a broken bone record stood.

Given pain pills, a cervical collar and a promise I would be sore by morning, I went home and fell into bed.

I woke to intense pain, not only in my arm but ribs as well. Oh did I mention neck and headache?

Feeling certain ER doc had to have missed something, I made appointment with my family practitioner for that same afternoon. Clearly something was missed in the ER exam.

Dr. R confirmed I had separated my ribs, only to explain I would have been better off to have broken them. Apparently the soft tissue in the space between the ribs had been torn. This takes longer to heal than broken ribs and easier to re injure. Also more painful. This I believed.

He thought the headache to be related to the concussion; the neck pain to whiplash. He suggested another film of the arm, which he could do in house. Those results were in quickly, and again no sign of a break. This still did not explain the weakness and pain when attempting to lift the arm. Doc decided perhaps it just a severe sprain.

Weeks later I found myself back in Doc's office. My condition seemed to be getting worse, not better. I couldn't sleep because of the pain. I had learned to wrap my own ribs, this being a help. Al least my ribs felt stationary when wrapped; otherwise they felt as if they all were floating and shifting around in the thoracic cavity. Upon discovering this, Doc had a fit. Explaining the dangers to me(restriction of lungs resulting in pneumonia) I promised I would no longer wrap.

During this visit he decided to refer me to an orthopedist.

The MRI revealed I had a slight tear in left rotator cuff, which explained the weakness and inability to lift arm. The tear, slight enough not to require surgery, didn't seem to concern him.The supraspinatus muscle left him with a gleam in his eye. This muscle was one of four considered to be part of the rotator cuff. If (and this is a big if, as my brain had shut down ) this muscle was ever torn completely in half, I'd be wearing my shoulder around my waist. He continued to explain my shoulder was being held in place with no more than what looked like cobwebs. One more jerk or tear and I was looking at a very complicated surgical repair. I immediately was put in a contraption called a shoulder stabilizer; although it pains me to admit, my shoulder felt better instantly.

His hope was enough scar tissue would develop over time to take over the task of the actual muscle. At this point, I would start physical therapy.

How long? He had no idea. No driving, no lifting, no laundry, no vacuuming. I had hit the mother load!!!! I could NOT do those things for months! He even put it in writing, for Lonnie's benefit. whoo-hoooooo! I would cowgirl up and follow his instructions, no matter the cost! Then I could count a cowgurl's blessing and bask in the light of no housekeeping! I was liking this doc more and more.

He prescribed even stronger pain pills along with a weeks supply of oral steroids. Went over the use and abuse of both and sent me on my way, with the understanding I would come back in one week.

Steroids worked great for the pain! After the first day I could tell a difference in my arm. My neck, however was killing me! I tried heat, I tried ice. I stretched. I took pain pills; they barely took the edge off. I had concluded the strap connected to stabilizer, had aggravated the whiplash even more. Without ortho knowing, I started sleeping without it. It helped.

I'm unsure how much time had passed. All I did was run to appointments and develop more symptoms. My arm was feeling much better; wish I could say the same for head and neck.

I had starting having headaches. I don't mean garden variety headaches either. I'm talking curled in fetal position, crying, dark room, throwing up, pray to die headaches. When I could stand it no longer, someone would drive me to Doc R's office, and like putting an animal down, shoot me with something to knock me out. This was the only time I found relief. I always had a headache, the severity was the only thing that varied.

Finally, Dr. Ortho decided to preform another MRI. He was certain the neck pain was related to shoulder injury, referred pain was his bet.

The weather was beginning to change. Fall would come a courting soon. The shadows were getting longer; the sun hanging lower in the sky. I fell on May 8. I had missed the entire summer. Time I would never get back. I had gone through three rounds of steroids, only to gain 20 pounds. Each round made me meaner than the last and altered my thinking. Yes, I think a second MRI might be in order.

To every one's surprise I had 5 herniated discs in my neck. When swollen and inflamed 2 of the 5 were pushing on my spinal cord. Not the answer I wanted, but an answer.

Dr. Ortho then went into a lengthy explanation of what would need to be done to remove the pressure on the spinal cord and involved nerves. I listened horrified not fully taking in what I was hearing. And of course, for now, another round of oral steroids and another shot in my shoulder. While the steroids worked all too well for the pain, they were making me mean. Seems with each round I became more nervous and aggressive. Coupled with the additional weight I was sure to pack on, I became less and less desirable to be around.

Surgery was not an option, no matter how great the pain. I had spent ten years working on back and neck surgeries gone wrong. Usually hearing the pain had only worsened after surgery. No, I was willing to try almost anything but surgery.

With the arm somewhat healed, I was able to drive and proceed with a semi normal life. Despite Dr. Ortho's best effort, my neck was still a wreck. It took so little to aggravate and inflame those discs. Dr. O had just about convinced me I would never ride again.

In the beginning when he brought this subject to the fore, I dismissed him. With every visit I asked,"When can I ride again?" His answer never wavered," Your riding days are over."

The first time he told me to hang up my saddle, he suggested needlepoint or scrap booking as hobbies. I recall shouting," Do I look like someone who would do needlepoint?!!!"

He was a good man; overlooked my outburst, and can only assume he contributed my behavior to pain and steroids.

A year had passed since the fall. I had received six steroid shots in my shoulder and taken five oral packs of steroids, in addition to a couple of rounds of physical therapy. Still the headaches persisted. The forty extra pounds I carried made my knees hurt. I didn't recognize myself any longer. My thoughts were not my own. Whether due to the meds or depression I don't know.

For most of the last year I refused to believe I would never ride again. I held on to that one hope with dogged determination. Now, I was beginning to be a bit more realistic.

Maggie had not been ridden in a year. She needed a job. I couldn't even ride in a car for more than an hour without my neck flaring. I felt as if I had failed. I wasn't tough. I couldn't take it any longer. I had so little quality of life.

My thoughts turned to John Walker. In his late sixties a horse had stood up and fallen smack on top of him, shattering all bones from the pelvis down. He was told he would walk with a walker or cane the rest of his life. Horses? He certainly would never ride again. Being a man of few words, he responded, " I'll be damned." It took him a year; all docs were proven wrong. John Walker not only rode again; he went back to training his 2 year olds. I never saw him on a cane.

For the first time I was glad he was dead. Tom too. Both men had surpassed the most difficult of health issues, only to amaze all of their medical professionals. Me? Most days I could be found sniveling under the covers with ice packs on my neck. Both men would have been ashamed of me. I was ashamed of me.

I had started having muscle spasms beginning in the neck only to crawl to the right side of my face. These spasms were strong enough to pull my mouth and right eye almost to my temple. Originally I thought I was having a stroke. I was grotesque looking; like something out of a bad Stephen King movie. This pain made all headaches pale in comparison. There was nothing to do but wait for the spasm to pass.

I was being swallowed by depression. Oh wait! Another pill. If the antidepressants helped, I couldn't tell. I remained in a cocoon of pain. To be honest, I didn't want to be here any more. I was nothing but a burden to my family. Worse than that, I was certain I had outlived my usefulness.

My thoughts were scaring even me. There had to be someone out there to help me. I remembered one of Toms' favorite docs at Baylor. I prayed he remembered me. I decided to call.

I was shaking as his office phone rang. A real person answered. That in itself was encouraging.

His receptionist did in fact remember me and my Dad. I tried to explain why I was calling but instead broke down, crying into the phone. She was wonderful. Waited for me to calm down, fully ready to give me her complete attention.

" I need the best neck doc in the metroplex." She excused herself to personally ask Dr.C. his opinion. Within seconds she was back on the line, relaying his info. " Dr.C said their is only one doc he would allow touch his neck. That would be Dr.B over at Presby. You will have quite a wait. Would you like us to call Terri and get you in sooner?" "Yes!" was all I was able to spit out.

Dr. Bs' office called within the hour. He could see me the first week of June. He would complete his own tests, including more x-rays and another MRI. I was to bring a list of all the meds I currently took. The paper work was extensive; come early.

I looked down at the date I had jotted down. My appointment was exactly 13 months to the day of the fall.

For the first time in months, I felt hope stir within me.