My Horse Accident: A Personal Story

When I hit the ground, I thought, "No, this is not happening."

In my years of riding, I have fallen off more horses than I can count.

I've been rolled on, stepped on, thrown into fences and trees, you name it.

Almost every situation you can imagine going wrong in horse riding, I have been through.

But this time was different.

It was a hot afternoon, and I was riding a young horse named Lance.

He is a very large fellow, as you can see in our photo below, taken three weeks before the accident.

After a jump, he immediately started broncing.

For those not familiar with equestrian terms, broncing is when a horse bucks, kicking its hind hooves up into the air. With all my experience, this shouldn't have been a problem.

We were about to reach the end of the arena, and I remember thinking, "Fuck, I hope he's not going to try to jump out."

The fence around the arena was not tall, and Lance, being so large, could very easily jump out.

On the other side of the fence was an area where the barn stored miscellaneous items. It wasn't maintained, and there were holes. I knew that if we ended up on the other side of the fence, there was a good chance Lance might break his leg.

I turned him with all my might. As his body moved right, mine moved left. I started a slow-motion fall.

On my way to the ground, my foot didn't get the memo that we were vacating.

My foot was still in the stirrup.

And Lance was still broncing. As he went up, I was coming down, foot still in the stirrup, and snap.

My thoughts were racing as I hit the ground.

This cannot be happening.

I had big plans just a few weeks away. I was taking a trip to Spain, and I had a couples retreat I was meant to lead.

For the first time ever after falling off a horse, I knew right away I needed to get to a hospital.

I will never forget the pain of the ER doctor taking my boot off (thank goodness I was wearing a half chap and paddock boot, much easier to remove than a traditional tall boot).

I will also never forget how my screams filled the ER. They told me most people would just pass out. Why my body didn't, I will never know.

(I want to think it was because I'm tough. :))

The break was bad. So bad they brought the X-ray machine to me. The ER doctor said no one was to move me.

When the orthopedic surgeon came down to set my leg, the ER doctor held my hand and told me I was going to be okay. You know it's bad when the ER doctor is holding your hand.

It didn't help that he was giving me one of those "you're going to be okay, but I really don't know" looks.

I needed surgery.

Oftentimes, when you break a bone as badly as I did, they like to wait a few days so the skin can heal slightly from the inside. Otherwise, immediate surgery may do more damage.

I was still in good spirits, cracking jokes in the ER. I must have been quite funny, because months later my surgeon asked me to tell him the one from the ER again.

As I lay in bed waiting for surgery day, I thought about how grateful I was for modern medicine. In another era, I would have been strapped to a board, given a wooden splint and sent on my way.

Warning: the next two are a little tough.

My recovery has been long.

More than two years, two surgeries and a year of weekly rehab later, I'm just starting to run again this month.

Most days, I am still in a bit of discomfort. My ankle has quite a bit of scar tissue.

A gentle reminder of how vulnerable our bodies are.

And yet, how they can heal themselves.

I am grateful to be able to walk (and hopefully run soon).

I remember like it was yesterday miserably climbing the three flights of stairs to my apartment on my ass (no elevator in my building). Or the dreaded have-to-pee in the middle of the night, on crutches, in the dark.

I am grateful to understand more fully what it means to lose mobility. To be injured and "out for the count." I am grateful that I can now relate more deeply to people whose bodies have changed this way.

More than anything, I am grateful to be one step closer to riding again.

If an injury or illness has changed how you feel in your own body, I wrote about what my injury taught me about sex and sexual energy.