Yowza!

Yesterday started off like any other Sunday for us, a little bit of Jesus with our friend Julie, followed by lunch with my parents, just a typical morning.  It was shortly after lunch when my sister called and informed me that her entire family was quarantined with the flu.  She wanted to know if I could deliver crackers and Sprite to their house.  Of course, I obliged.  

In the mean time, Miss K wanted to go out to the barn to ride Mia, I had a puppy that was supposed to go to it's new adoptive family, and I had about 400 arms in the fire at this point, so I decided to delegate some of this stuff to The Reluctant Farmer.  The game plan was,  I would take a load of supplies to my sick sister.  The Reluctant Farmer would take Miss K to the barn to ride for 45 minutes, and we would all meet back at home for a puppy adoption and dinner with our friend Julie. 

Then I received the phone call....

Me:  "Hello?!"

The Reluctant Farmer:  "Where are you?!"

Me:  "Um, in my sister's isolation hut of a house."

RF:  "How soon can you get to the horse barn?"

Me:  "I'm about 30 minutes away.  Why?"

RF:  "You should get her soon.  The horse is bleeding."

Me:  "Bleeding?"

RF:  "Yeah, from her vagina."

Me:  "What?!  How did that happen?"

RF:  "Um, I don't know.  But can you hurry?  She's bleeding."  

At this point she confers with a person in the background and it is decided this injury was caused by a kick from another horse.

Me, wanting to know how big of an issue this really is,  "Is this like a hemorrhage sort of bleeding or more like a dripping blood sort of bleeding?  

RF:  "It's kind of like a fast dripping sort of bleeding."

Me:  "Well, call the vet and apply pressure.  I will be on my way shortly."

We hang up.

The phone rings again.

Me:  "Hello?!"

RF:  "Hi."

Me:  "Hi.  Did you call the vet?"

RF:  "No, I think you should look at this first.  I don't know anything about horses and I don't want to call the vet if you don't think it's needed."

Me:  "Well, where you don't know anything about horses, you are medical so I am sure you can apply some pressure to make the bleeding stop, and I am confident you know about vaginas.  If it was my vagina, I would want you to call my doctor.  Call the vet."

I hear her sigh, followed by "I will just wait for you to get here.  Hurry."

At this point I am angry.  I am trying to take care of my sister, who looks like death.  I am asking questions about the horse's undercarriage, but can't get a solid answer.  And no one is owning the decision to call the vet nor are they applying pressure!  (This was a legit concern of mine at the moment.)

I quickly leave my sister's house and then call my friend Erin who lives just down the road from the barn.  Erin is not only my friend, but also one of our small animal veterinarians.  She has horses of her own, and I knew she could get there quicker than me, assess the bleeding situation, and make a decision for me.  Graciously, she agreed to drive over, take a look and said she would call me.

The word back was:  "Yeah, this is a one-in-a-million kick.  Your horse has a deep laceration across her butt, a 2 inch laceration to the vulva, and what appears to be a laceration to the inside of her vagina.  I can't get a real good look though because she is not very happy."

Oh joy! 

 Just what every woman wants this holiday season, lacerations to her "lady business"!

I call the vet, and God bless that woman, she comes out assesses the situation and gets right to work.

She sedates Mia, something I would want if it was my vagina, cleans her up and starts blocking the area with lidocaine so she can suture her back together.  We chat while she works, and on occasion as ladies, we cringed for the poor old girl.  

Later in the car on the way home, I caught myself grumbling about owning horses under my breath, and then I stopped myself.  How do you thank the 1300 pound beast that keeps your child safe?  You give her a great life, which includes excellent vet care, and you sympathize with her as only another woman could do, beacuse at the end of the day, no female person or beast wants a laceration to that region.  

Now as a horse-mother, I must discuss with Mia the fact she needs to find a nicer group of friends to hang out with, but we will save that for a day when she feels better.  There is no use in adding insult to injury....