Yesterday I was going to write this post. It was supposed to be about what on the 7th of March I managed on my own, without horses, tree roots, bikes or skis, to yet again quite dramatically injure myself.
This time it was only my left ring finger. It dislocated in a spectacular fashion but as the healing is going in the right direction this was supposed to be a quite uplifting story. Of how I yet again fight my way back from injury… but sadly my life had other sorrows for me to deal with.
Over the Easter holidays when we all brace ourselves over the amount of children’s free time, family and friends gatherings, endless lunches, social must do’s, on top of half staff double work…
We had one very special horse getting very poorly. Unreal was his name. Unreal was his spirit. We were soul bound for always. Every time I jumped him our two hearts became one. He was taking care of my daughter being her team member now. His last outing with her they finished first. These will be the memories. Those of joy. Of speed. Of power.
On Friday I had my last ride on him. We were admiring the pink blossom of a tree that just does that. It goes from bland and barren to deeply fushia over night. Rulle always loved hacking through the orange groves to pick his own oranges, or to let me peel one or two for him.
Rulle and the pink tree
Over night to Saturday he had trouble. We will never know why but it seams something was blocking his lower esophagus. That made the water that he tried to drink partly getting into his lungs. We caught it Saturday morning, but the pneumonia has already started and even though the vets did what they could, water in the lungs is not something a horse can survive from.
Yesterday the 1st of April, April’s fools day, will never be the same again. The vet brought the ultrasound scanner and we could see the amount of liquid that had built up in both his lungs.
He got 19 glorious years on this planet. After he was put to sleep in Sleeping Meadows, we rang the bell of the church nineteen times. As the bell tolled, I could feel the vibrations going through the rope into my fingers, a calming, steadfast, reassuring vibration. He was in peace. No more pain.
Today I am in pain. Physical, aching pain. The tears are always waiting there, just behind, any well meaning hug, any condoling message, any pitying look.
The finger on the other hand is slowly getting better. Physio with rubber bands and different size balls is entertaining!
I don’t think I will ever be able to put on my wedding bands, but as the Accident and Emergency nurse thanks to watching a video on “TicToc” saved them from being cut! Well maybe I’ll just wear them on a new finger… or in a new manner…
The dislocated one
Keep smiling 🙂 even on days where the tears keep flowing. Only true love can make you feel this much
So behold dear followers and fellow stalkers! This will be the first in a while of blogging without injury!
I know! Surprisingly few injuries so far this year, but just as I’m writing this I realize I have got the biggest mouth ulcer known to man on the upper left hand side of my mouth! I got it after a very interesting date with one of my dentists (yes I have 3 different dentists!). Thursdays date with the dentist Micheal was rather eventful! I had to re-do a root canal! And lo and behold as the proven elephant I am when it comes to dental pain killers, I had to have 4 injections before the pain subsided. I think that’s where my ulcer comes from… I have not yet grown too attached to it… it has got no name so far… the ulcer that is… maybe Ulla would be a suitable name for her? And so there it is. She will probably be here to stay now that she is named and everything. Damn…
January has started in style! I am still not jumping horses (or ponies) but Millie is doing a rather good job of it! She was 2d in today’s class with Rulle. In November last year I managed to re-damage an old coxis injury. I was doing a Pilates reformer class and doing a box “horse” movement. No pain directly but the day after I couldn’t sit properly. This made it almost impossible to ride. I have now had a new saddle pad delivered that takes away all pressure points. So at least now I can ride.
So this writing about the new year without ailments and injuries was total lies. They were just much quieter and less spectacular.
I have started reading a new book, you have to name your habits and how to improve spending your time. My worst habit I think are the liters of tea I drink… or possibly time I spend online, not getting anything done. You have to decide on habits you would like to grow and also how to quit the bad ones. I’d like to write more often, and write better. I would also like to be able to read my own handwriting… I have already stopped so many of my bad habits… I think I have to get a few more bad ones so I can have some to stop in the future. I am keeping drinking wine! Wine makes everything fine!
We were away for new year. The best thing that happened was Dans new friend Dan!
Dan on his camel also called Dan!
Keep smiling 🙂 sometimes you are lucky enough to find a namesake camel 🐪
Bones keep a healing. Body keeping a mending. And I stay here, in the middle of my own getting better, not knowing if I am getting much better. Mentally still strong, physically… I could get a bit better.
I’m sure this happens to a lot of people when they have a big accident. Doubting themselves abd thinking if it’s all worth it… I have been thinking and thinking… not worrying but just debating with myself to see if I’m ready.
I have had so many friends, explaining to me that this might be the time, that now surely I should realize that family comes first. Of course I realize that. I always put them first, but you have to also remember who or what I am. I have never before realized.
I am nuclear.
Maybe this is why. Why I am a great believer in nuclear power, because of what I am… In normal speed nothing makes sense to me, in my pace all is clear. I think horses help nucleares like me think and reason. Us nucleares are always switched on and if I ever breech this security blanket or ball I am in the world have to watch out. Lucky for the world I keep busy doing my things.
Now my things out of the saddle is… helping horses and animals heal, helping people heal, setting up our Pop up event that we are hosting this weekend! It will be a blast but one has to buy tickets to it to get in!
To limit our numbers to a manageable level Tickets need to be bought in advance 5€pp (over 16yrs only & no 4 legged friends!) – includes a glass of Rosado
The after 9 weeks x rays have been taken and analyzed by my trauma doctor. There still is not a lot of healing going on in the bones.
If I dare to look at my ribs, they are healing all over the place, just not back together again. There seams to be sharp splinters just raving to go and find one of my lungs to puncture or one of my veins. The edges of the breaks looks as sharp as it was done yesterday.
Trauma doctor in Mallorca has allowed me to start back easy training ie walking or sitting on a stationary bike. She has asked me to allow another 3 weeks before I start riding horses again.
Riding horses? Are you mad? (Do you know me?) I’m not sure I will ever get back to Showjumping ever again. I am still wondering what the deal is with the higher spiritual beings of the world, to finally allow me to build paradise on earth and simultaneously not allowing me to use it?
Think about your family! they say. And I am, all the time. I am thinking of the being of me in a future self, hopefully not broken any more. That me, without a daily dose of purpose and physical outlet becomes a nuclear issue.
I have now still managed to keep my bubble around me. I’m pushing out any external inputs, both real and virtual. It’s much more manageable to be on my own in my own seclusion. Not being tempted by others ideas of FOMO.
With my bubble tight around me I still feel safe, content and without any worries about now or then, future or past.
When said bubble will come off I know for a fact there is a whole different being in here. Let lose to her own demises she will demand her daily usual thrills. If one takes away the energy given to me through horse riding, in combination with the leveling that spending energy around and on top of equines, the constant light I have within my being fed by the interaction might go out. I still have all the energy, circling around me drawing me towards anything that can give me my next thrill/hit/fix. I am not an alcoholic or drug addict, but I have a very addictive personality. The way I see it, horses as my addiction saves me from myself.
I talked very briefly to my new grief counselor yesterday. I told her I had lost my biggest fan and supporter when said fan told me I should stop riding horses. As my counselor is very newly examined, as well as also being my former biggest fan… the two roles colliding in our first session, she said she will get back to me. I think I heard it will be a written response… still waiting…
On the other hand, she also had shown my x rays to one of the most prominent orthopedic surgeons in Sweden. His take on the pictures were that the fractures were healed, and running and falling would not increase possibility of punctured lung. I took it that it was A ok to start riding! She said NO riding! Well there we are, we can agree to disagree. I think I want to be the best of who I can be. I feel that that’s easier when I’m surrounded and drenched or concealed with horses on a daily basis. I will be a calmer version of me.
Wondering how I’m doing? Well thanks for wondering, it’s pretty damn boring… no healing happening… but what’s the worst that could happen? Don’t ask!
Being back to see the traumatologist this week. I had another X-ray of the shoulder and collar bone. After taking it super easy, dead pace, no exercise, no nothing, I would assume I had started my healing journey. Not so much…
After my 10 different fractures only 2 seamed to have even started healing… 8 seamed to not care about being broken. The crunchy sound I make whilst turning over in bed now makes some sense… quickly one gets out the Google doctor search and finds answers to why bones are slow at healing.
I do take extra vitamin D3, K2, C and iron, calcium… my bones should have happily knitted themselves back to stronger than before mode… even dr Google don’t have my answers. Instead I started my Physio Theraphy.
Nerea is the healer of shortened muscles. The unused and un cared for physical wellness of my bad ass bones and limbs. With some loose stretching and the use of some rubbery bands my shoulder and back gets a little bit back in action this week… my morphine patches are down to only 12 micrograms and pain only really interferes when I sit up, change direction or lie down. Truth be told I was hoping to be able to cheer you up with my getting better but at least I’m not getting any worse!
Look at your friends to see who you really are. Well luckily for me I have silly friends with similar interests to me. Hence when coming back home after 11 days in hospital our bedroom has been equipped with an electric bed. The one with a raisable back as well as leg raiser! With this bed I can get out of bed by myself! I only feel 1/2 as handicapped as I otherwise would!
The bed borrowed by my lovely bread making (yes gluten free!) friend Katja. She also suffered a similar accident with a few broken ribs and realized that she wouldn’t be able to be independent without one of these beds.
She came by the house to see me and her bed. (Maybe more to see me in the bed) and how almost pain free I could get myself out of the bed. She realized our house was a much better place for this extra bed to fit as it almost looks designed to fit an extra bed in our bedroom. I knew a 40 square meter bedroom made sense finally!
Today was my first day up and about. I was properly out in the stable for my first cup of Colombian coffee as well as checking out some of our working students that we have here over mid term. My outside stint felt very adventurous as it has been properly cold here the last couple of days, and today it’s full on snowing in our Tramuntana mountains. Here it tried to snow but as soon as it hit the ground it melted.
Now the wind is horrendous! We shall be lucky if any of our trees will be standing tomorrow!
Keep smiling 🙂 your friends are the true looking glass to meet yourself
I have now been in hospital for over eight days. Eight days of not being able to get dressed, to have a shower by oneself, to make my cup of tea when I like, basically locked in this 3 x 4 m cell that- thank you Palma planes- has at least got a very big window.
8 days when whatever could happen in the world, and I’m none the wiser as I have switched off my alert button.
8 days and nights pondering over this new life of me. I have been told
What to do
What not to do
What to expect
Not to expect anthing
And the time keeps ticking… don’t worry they removed my watch so I don’t keep a record. It’s apparently healthier not to.
8 days… it makes me wonder… for all you godly ones out there, didn’t god create earth in seven days? Well I have not managed to heal myself, my ribs or change the world ever so slightly…. I have managed to get my oxygen level up to a steady 93…. As long as it’s above 92 I should be ok…
People ask me if I’m ok? How can I be ok locked inside a small cell? There is a lot of pushing and shoving, telling me what I should think, how I should feel. Luckily for me and for all of you out there I have managed to yet again kick start my own bubble of ignorance! My protective bubble that just allows me to feel about 15-20% or my emotional damage. (The actual physical “pain feeling” not so much dampened, it’s still up there with the All time high!)
The bubble makes this whole hospital business a survival possibility. I bet you I could stay another 8 days and I would not go crazy. My bubble won’t allow it. My bubble keeps me calm, even when I see and feel to a certain point how my very close family are losing their bearings, my bubble holds me down, and slows my breathing. I wish I could copy my bubble and hand it out to those who’s coping mechanism is being trialed to their upmost edges. Ever so sorry, bubble is a one off… I don’t know where she came from but she is doing a great job so far!
I know this blog has mostly been about me, and ways of getting over certain trauma. The spotlight goes wherever the weakest point of my life is. To see how one can balance and stay above water during hardships. Finding the small positive that will make one stronger to bounce back 100%, often faster than anyone and hopefully stronger than ever before. That’s when the spotlight is only on me. For some months now, our spotlight has been following another member of our family. Due to some very severe and rare autoimmune diseases we have to go back and forward to London for weekly treatments. This is where I wish I could copy the bubble. The rest of the world does not slow down to allow us all to catch up. I’m more or less ok in my bubble, in my small cell, but my worry is for those allowed in the outside world without protection. They don’t need to have hundreds of more questions asked about them, about me or any other reassurances that you are there for them. In a sense the caring messages of well meaning can be so over bearing for them. Let them breathe! We all expect you to be there for us. Simple as!
There are some philosophers thinking and evaluating time in a súper intelectual and fascinating manner… not me. I’ve been here 8 days and I think it feels like a few hours. I will not lie here and poke about in my feelings of time and how fast it has been going as I full well know, without my protective bubble this blog would sound a lot different to this!
Keep smiling 🙂 and be there for people, you don’t have to announce it!
Welcome dear 2023! I started writing this blog post some weeks ago when my husband had met up with his Uncle Derek in England. Derek is one of our blog followers! And I think he is our only follower in his 90’s! There had been a request of me writing the blog again, as I hadn’t had any accidents or illnesses for a while, nothing had really been updated on the blog recently.
At the time I was thinking about what I could write about, but when I sat down to write it, my app had disowned me and I couldn’t log on to my blog. Hence now 3 weeks later I write this blog… as a mixture, of the old hardworking me to the newly broken me.
We begin January 2023. We have left Corona virus behind us, the war in Ukraine seams to have lost some of its intensity. It almost seamed easier to breathe there for a second or two… but then came the biggest earthquake to ever shake Turkey and Syria. I thought we would be past the drama and the turmoil of bad energy. In our little bubble life of wines and horses we were getting ready for our first year of bottling over 20.000 bottles of wine!!!
For us this was going to be a big year. We have 3 new wines coming out. Ses Rotes 16 hands range! We will have a red Syrah, a white Sauvignon Blanc that has been in a ceramic tank and a rose 100% Pinot Noir.
The horses have all started the year in a perfect manner. All as a warmup for this years first international show in April in Oliva Nova, Denia, Spanish mainland. We were also looking forward to go to St Anton for a week skiing…
How can I ever start this blog again? Now that the app finally has let me in again… I’ll tell you how. 10 broken bones and a dislocated shoulder should do it for me. Welcome to your newly/again/never ending story broken life Emelie. Oh and the fun you had planned, because one of your lungs is compressed you can forget about that as well…
It was last Sunday. I was competing at the La Gubia riding club in Mallorca. It was a beautiful sunny day (perfect for walking in the mountains) I had jumped the first horse Damion Star, and was already in 4th place on him. My regular horse Unreal that I normally win or get well placed with jumped the 2 first fences awesome, then turning back to the third fence, I can still not understand what spooked him, but halfway over the fence he decides that he shouldn’t jump it.
In mid air, my heart already thrown over the oxer, my body follows my heart and it falls hard onto the arena floor. The intensity of the pain shooting through me was something I have not really experienced before, and as I kind of know pain, I knew this was no laughing matter. There are so many people standing there around me. Taking off my helmet, asking if I’m ok, seeing if they can remove my sunglasses and I can really only hear me.
It’s not a super loud howling, it’s more like a densely compacted hiss of pain, but it’s constant. I cannot talk. I cannot make people understand me. They lift me onto a steel tray carrier, that then is lifted onto the trolley of the ambulance. After many pursuits to fold out said trolleys wheels they somehow manage to get me into ambulance number 1. I am there with 2 female people (I’m not sure if they are nurses or just people helping out at the show), a driver, or a person that don’t drive very legal/a lot/ever driven a manual ambulance, gets behind the wheel, and off we go!
The driver must have been nervous about the time it had taken to remove the remains of me from the arena to his vehicle. That or he was super excited about Formula 1 starting in a couple of weeks. Away we went. I was now strapped onto my trolley on top of the now super uncomfortable steal trap tray that they had lifted me onto said trolley. It was cutting into my previously not so sore bits. The 2 ladies had yet to sit down, and as the driver took off in Formula style and then managed to crash into something just outside the arena. I was strapped in so I didn’t really move but the two ladies went flying, one landing on top of me but did everything to get off me as soon as possible. After a whole lot of shouting and cursing it was decided I should get in a second ambulance as there was something not quite right with the one I was in.
There was some more shifting and lifting of the steel tray I was on and I was strapped onto a new trolley. Still very uncomfortable. Here one of the ladies decides to pull off my jacket. A doctor dressed in all black appears from out of nowhere. He speaks perfect English and he says he thinks my shoulder is dislocated. I can only agree as I have no power in the arm at all. He says it might be the only pain factor for me so should be try and pull it back in?
I can still hardly breathe and there is so much pain around me, so I agree to have the shoulder relocated! I’ve had some other joints dislocated before and the relocation has always been a very easy pulley motion, for sure with pain but still the release of all the pain since popped back in was immediate. The dark doctor grabbed hold of my arm, in a janky pulling motion he tried to get the shoulder back into its socket. He was pulling it sideways, upwards, downwards, up again. And when I thought he had given up he pulled it up to the left, gave it a tug and it popped back into its socket. Some of the pain stilled just a little. But it was still hard to breathe. We drove off in ambulance number 2. The 250 meter cross country road down from the parking to the actual road nearly was the end of me. Massive holes in the road that somehow got even bigger when strapped onto a tray, strapped onto a trolley, in an ambulance.
We were taken to a new hospital to me… well it’s the hospital that we are insured with with our riding licenses , Palma Planes. Here I almost came to my third death of the day. I was in the ambulance, coming onto the hospital area. There are some evil speed bumps from hell. I’m not sure who ever ordered or designed them, but clearly someone with a pure sadistic vision. Imagine a 15cm high, 10 cm wide bump with a small heightened nipple to really shake the bottom of every car. I hadn’t had a concussion until the ambulance drove into the hospital area! Now I’m not so sure…
Once inside they managed to put me in a wheelchair to go down to have bits x-rayed. As I still couldn’t really breathe they decided to do a CT scan of the whole tórax area. I had now been given some more painkillers so they thought I should be able to lie down and sit up whilst they took the pictures they where after. After lots of torture in the wheelchair, poking down plates behind me to reach and x-ray the depth of my mangled body. The decision was that I was very broken, and I was brought into a little closed cell room awaiting where they could put someone as broken as me.
A doctor came in and they had seen I had a few broken ribs as well as a broken collarbone but their biggest worry was the damage and compression over my left lung. I was sent to a nicer room and I had oxygen in my nose.
This is where I still am, it’s now Thursday. I have 9 broken ribs, 2 in front and 7 at the back. I have 1 broken collarbone but as it looks now it should be able to heal without any surgery. I have my dislocated shoulder that now is back in its place and I have this compressed lung, that one just have to be gentle with. As long as I keep the oxygen on I’m fine, as soon as I try and stand up or sit without the oxygen I feel terrible and like I cannot breathe. Hopefully it’s got nothing to do with my broken ribs…
So now one has to see what one can do. The six weeks that broken bones normally needs to heal takes me into April. As the show we are going to doesn’t start until mid April for me, it could be ok. The reason for the show was more a way of showcasing the horses we have for sale. So it might be better to do the show later on.
The skiing trip will be the next thing to think over. The doctors are keeping their eyes on my lung as the only thing preventing me flying. I’m more afraid of walking on slippery surfaces… I don’t know if I’m up to pausing my life again, it’s gone beyond a joke. And I cannot laugh, it really hurts!
Keep smiling 🙂 but stay away from laughing, coughing or hiccups!!!
10 years ago today. My life, and the lives of everyone around me changed forever.
I spent a month mostly referred to in third sense. How else does one talk to a person refusing to wake up? I never know if the people allowed to see me, ever talked to me, or mostly at me?
As I have never been a visitor to someone in coma, only being in one myself, these are things I hope never having to experience in first hand.
I’m not going to bore you with a lengthy retelling of what happened on that faithful, beautiful October morning. There are already pages written about that earlier in the blog. I will instead focus on how it has changed me. To who I have become.
Many might think the stubborn survivalist was always there, but I was super surprised even to ever hit 30 years. Nah, I was completely, 100 percent convinced that I would never turn 30. Not in a wishing to die or pretending to be someone famous kind of way, for me it was the truth. Where I picked that up from and who or what had convinced me of my short life, I have no idea, but somehow every day after turning 30 has been a bonus and in a way a blessing.
I don’t think I have told you about what I experienced when I was under. It’s a strange thing to recall, but during 2012 they are my strongest memories. They are still so crispy clear I can smell the salty-ness of the ocean air, feel the wind, look up at the gloomy skies. During my time in hospital, in a coma, I managed to see my father. He had by then been dead for over 5 years. My soul managed to find her way to see him. To keep me strong.
The details of our conversations are too personal to share here, but he gave his insight on a lot of matters that were concerning me at the time. I also met other spirits briefly, my grandmother being busy all the time going places, and others taking their time to gently say hello.
Could it all have been a figure of my imagination? Probably most of you will say. I only know what I experienced and to me, the hardest thing I had to go through waking up from the coma, was not that I had no sensation on my left side, nor that I had lost my voice, it was losing my father for a second time.
Being given a second chance to live again is not a small gift. You have to earn it, by living your life. That’s where I get my energy from, the stubborn will to live. Come illness or disease, come paralyzation or breast cancer, come broken ribs, fingers, knees, elbows and sternums, come severed stomach muscles, drainages, hospital visits or stays, come bakers cysts, I am still here. With a will to continue. Hopefully with a little grace. A thankfulness to all around me.
Keep smiling 🙂 we are still here, some of us only in spirit. Live your life whilst you can
It’s not really autumn here yet, even though you might think so seeing all shop windows full of coats and knitted sweaters… Now we are back down to a more agreeable 31 degrees, but still not really autumn..
There was a summer… on paper at least there was one. I didn’t participate much in it. Although on paper it looks awesome!
I had my first ever cover of a magazine. A 10 pages article, written about me, some horses and some wine. Did lean a little bit towards my survival skills and only slightly about the cancer and coma…
I sang on stage in front of 20.000 people together with legend Jakob Hellman! Malmöfestivalen rocked!!!!
Me and Dan were in a book called Hip Wines Mallorca! An amazing book about the place we love (Mallorca) and our super hobby (wine)!
I saw Coldplay live in Glasgow! Incredible, was also lucky enough to see both Nina Nesbitt and London Grammar as the opening acts!
We managed to do a whole little Sweden tour visiting friends both on the west coast (Särö and Smögen) and have a crayfish party at Joibo together with my sister and her wonderful animals!
I spent a good 17 days behind bars (or on a different wards) because of the nasty accident in June. A lot of people have told me I should write a book. I think a book I could write is a guide book of hospitals around the world… the worst vs the best… treatments, doctors, nurses and more importantly the beds and the food!
Now I find myself, still clad in my stomach brace as the hematoma won’t go away, at an A&E in Palma, for the umpteenth time..
So what’s happening now one might ask oneself? I have on top of my triage friendly outings developed a Baker’s cyst. What is that? You might ask yourself as I did… it’s a cyst connected to the meniscus filled with fluid. It sits proudly behind my right knee. It could be pain free. Unfortunately for me it’s not.
I noticed a lump at the back of my right knee. I was worried it had something to do with the reconstruction of my cruciate ligament, but I had it looked at by my Osteopat who told me it was a Baker’s cyst. It has nothing to do with baked goods, rather a doctor who’s surname was Baker.
It started being a little uncomfortable straightening the leg. A little more pain as I walked on it. After starting back giving a few lessons and walking around more it was more noticeable after I sat down or was still for too long. Today the pain increased to a level where I cannot walk downstairs. Walking up is not a problem, nor is getting on a horse, and low and behold, nor is riding!!! I have zero pain riding! There is a little less power in that leg, but otherwise A OK!
Anyway, as luck has it I took 2 of my kids to cross fit and as was sat drinking a protein shake whilst dreaming about lifting weights or swinging myself from the rings pulling up into a straight T, the knee made itself really known. I just turned it a little bit and I nearly fainted.
So here I am. Waiting to see a doctor. The will hopefully give me something for the pain. There isn’t much one can do about the cyst if one is to trust dr Google. Hopefully there is something we can do so we can start celebrating our wine that will be blessed by the priests on Thursday, and Dan who is having a birthday and we will start to celebrate him for a week!
There are so many bad things happening in the world so we have to celebrate even the smallest wins!
Keep smiling 🙂 soon autumn actually will be here and wearing a stomach brace will feel like an accessory!
