Bumpy road

I didn't look at David.  I just heard him.  I knew he was hurting bad, but I was very focused on keeping it together, getting some control back.  I could not comfort him.  I could not ask him for help.  I suddenly felt really weak and shaky and my whole torso hurt.   But then again, I am somewhat of a p*ssy;  I don't deal well with pain.

Finally, the van arrived.   

Now I needed to get in the van, somehow.  Some people helped me up, but walking hurt, I really just wanted to lay down again.  But, we needed to go to the girls.  I needed to toughen up.  David needed to go to the hospital, NOW.  We needed to MOVE.  I got in the front seat; kinda upright leaning on the edge of the seat.   "Just get us out of here"  I thought.  "the hospital will give me something for the pain" 

The van started moving, but this was not a road, it was a rocky piece of land with big rocks and huge holes.  Every bump was UNBEARABLE.  "I can't do this", I said.  But, our chauffeur did not speak any English.  We kept going.  I was trying to reduce the impact by pushing myself off the seat;  "THIS SUCKS", I thought, but I had to be strong and not give in to the pain;  I had to be tough.

When we got to the ranch, the girls came running up to the van.  They were ok;  no drama, thank God.  David was in the back, hurting like hell, but dealing with the girls.  I turned away so that the girls couldn't see my face. I couldn't possibly deal.  I hated myself for being so weak.

After the girls got the jackets and stuff, we got on the road to the hospital.  It was the longest 25 minutes of my life.  I was starting to feel worse and worse.  David did all the talking and comforting;  he was in excruciating pain, but was able to rise above and he talked with the girls in a calm and collected manner, as if they were just having an ordinary dinner conversation. 

David and the girls were chatting away.  About what just happened; that we were hurt; that we were going to the hospital.  About that this was not going to change the girls' love of horses.  And horseback riding.  That they still wanted to get their own pony. About how Renee had seen David fly through the air when he was thrown off, "like Superman".  They were laughing about that.  And how Sasha held on by grabbing the horse's neck.  She was so proud.

At some point I looked over to the back seat.  This was the first time I actually looked at David.  His face was totally grey and sweat was literally pouring from his face.  Not because it was warm, but because he was in agonizing pain.   I cannot describe the feeling that overtook me at that moment; I LOVED and ADORED him soooo much.  He was so awesome.  He was such a hero.  That picture will forever be burned into my memory.  It was the first of many truly amazing gifts of this experience. 

The ride took forever and I was having difficulty keeping it together.  My pleas "are we there yet?"; "how much longer?"; "how many more minutes?", etc. were getting more and more hysterical.  Tears were streaming down my face by now;  I really could not do this any longer.  Something was really wrong with me, really wrong, it was not just because I had a low tolerance for pain.  I was so tired from trying to absorb the bumps and corners; tired of fighting the pain.  I was totally losing it and in full on panic mode when we finally got to the hospital.  

The chauffeur parked the van at the front entrance, he got out and left us sitting.  But, I was not waiting any longer.  I got out of the van by myself without even looking at David and the girls and walked into the entrance yelling "HELP ME".  Someone tried to sit me down in a wheel chair, but I yelled  "NO, I NEED TO LAY DOWN. NOW".  Someone walked me to a room where there was a bed and left me there.  I laid down.  And I waited.  And waited.  

I was relieved, though, that I was where I needed to be.  The worst was over.  Or, so I thought.  I started to think/worry again.  About how the girls must be freaked because I just walked off; because they had seen me in so much pain.   They were probably traumatized.  I felt so bad for them.  "I'll see the girls soon and explain", I thought.  "and everything will be fine".   But how would we get back to the hotel?   And who was going to take care of the girls that night?  David certainly couldn't.  I felt really really bad for him too. 

Then I was thinking about how embarrassing it was that I was still wearing my soiled pants.  I needed to get these off before the doctor came.  Pulling my pants off was almost impossible because I needed to bend over.  But, I was determined.  "Soiled pants are disgusting, I don't want the doctor or nurses to think I am disgusting."  So, I did it.   

In hindsight, it could have paralyzed me...

But then again, our whole plan was flawed, in hindsight.