ADVENTURES IN BONE PAIN

March 29 the world changed a little for me. I got slammed into the ground and ate dirt. It began with two hungry nursing mares and their week old foals and a plastic box of peppermints. We were late; we usually get to the farm much earlier usually around 2 but it was closer to 3:30 and they were hungry; the girls had been out with their kids most of the day and it was time to come in. It was overcast. There was a wind. He shook the box as we unlatched the gate. I was calling mama! mama! as I usually do when I see Ma Peche; her newest a cutie with a big white blaze like hers and 3 stocky white legs was blinking at us. And then the ground hit me with such force I lay there gasping thinking breathe breathe, the grey mare in her stupid unthinking self-serving bovineness had sent me flying with her hip. But our horse, Mama, to her great credit saw me lying there and in her shock; her need to potect her foal greater than her need for peppermints had scooted him away to the far side of the paddock where she stood with him blinking he between her and the fence. The wind turbines stared down ominously. Howie collected the remaining scattered peppermints. So we found ourselves in Fergus at Grove Community Hospital where the staff have so little to do they looked at us in puzzlement when we showed up; me with my left arm cradled carefully by my right hand. An Indian doctor looked at my xrays and said it's broken and they can't do anything about it anyways and because I have too much to do and too much to worry about wanted to believe him. I accepted the flimsy thing that passed for a sling and we were on our way with Howie driving; I still had dirt on my blue jeans and jacket. So I went home to bed and took the tylenol 3s that we got on the way home. Can't remember; maybe I got them later at Walmart. I slept away the night. I didn't see anyone for a week then finally I thought this can't be right; this sling will never stand up so I got a shoulder sling at Shoppers and everything seemed okay for another week or two; learning to dress myself and shower efficiently enough with my good right hand. The horses continuing to train well; I could touch them and be with them but just couldn't saddle them up or clean their stalls. I quite liked having everything done by everyone else (mostly Howie) for a while but getting increasingly antsy. So I presented myself to the fracture clinic at York Central because Pat next door to me said they were fast and efficient but they turned me away because I didn't have an appointment. They said I could get one if I go through emerg and get re-xrayed. Next day I phoned Isla at Feinberg's office and she asked in puzzlement where are the films from Grove? I said I dunno and carried on. Nothing heard for it seemed days. Finally I said to her by way of a message left 'cause they hardly ever answer the phone it seems; I'm going back to get re-xrayed at York Central which is a nifty hospital close to the house. Isla seemed puzzled because Feinberg works out of North York General which is probably close to where she lives. I saw an orthopod this time who said it's still bad and doesn't appear to be healing but he got me another splint; a shoulder immobilizer which gave me way more comfort than either of the first two splints but now I was getting worried. I ramble on. Isla got me an appointment at the fracture clinic and very efficiently they got me re-xrayed. The new doctor is a surgeon possibly Egyptian who looked at the films and said very bad you probably need surgery. I said I can't take time off. He looked at me like I was crazy. I said we're running this week, we're sitting on a win; it's been a 4 year process. I mumbled all kinds of things. He said I suppose you smoke. I looked at him like he was crazy. I said absolutely not. I hardly even drink. Now I'm worried; I don't want anyone sarcastic or angry or biased to touch me. That's how I managed to wrangle the name of a surgeon from Peter Vatcher. And so I wait; for Isla to get back to me for this surgeon to get back to her. And I'm not too bad except I'm afraid to take off the sling now because two or three times yesterday I could feel the bones shift and it was excruciating. Like I said as big and bad and tough as I am; all it takes to undo me is a little pain and a whole lot of uncertainty. Well, here it is February 2015 a full 3 years later. My arm eventually healed. I went to a surgeon recommended by Vatcher and he told me that surgery might not produce any better a result than letting heal in a sling. And it healed but not perfectly. I have 80% mobility and possibly I'm being generous. It still hangs with a slight 3 Degree Varus rotation. But it's functional with a whole lot of arthritis now, clicking and crunching. And we lost that little Cutie; the foal by Mama's side. He had a severe cervical canal stenosis that was putting pressure on his spinal cord, a nutritional disease of over eating. More about that later.