Twenty Mule Team 100

Thursday evening I was still feeling a little less than perfect, but I felt well enough to go to the ride. I spent much of the afternoon napping, as we planned to leave around midnight in order to get to ride camp with 24 hours for Hoss to recover from the trailer ride.

My husband had spent Wednesday night pulling an "all-nighter" so he'd be able to drive most of the way to Ridgecrest. He also spent most of Thursday afternoon sleeping. It was a hot day, and I don't know how he managed to sleep in that hot bedroom. I couldn't do it; most of my napping was in my chair. I guess that Navy career really came in handy for this particular day.

It felt like a really, really long day, but midnight finally rolled around and it was time to load up and leave. Hoss saw the trailer pulled out and was ready to go when I brought the halter out to get him. D.C., however, was very unhappy and promptly began pacing. She spent most of the time Hoss was gone pacing. There went all the weight I'd managed to put back on her!

Our arrival in ride camp was delayed by the GPS directing my husband to the wrong place. I was still lying down in the back seat and did not see us pass the fairgrounds. When the GPS told my husband he had reached his destination, it was in the middle of a dirt road! It was still dark, so I had difficulty determining where we were in relation to where we wanted to be. After some fumbling around and driving into strange places, I took over the wheel and my husband used his iPhone to find where we needed to go. We made our way back to the fairgrounds and pulled in to ride camp a little after 6:00am.

After unloading Hoss and getting him set up, we unhooked the trailer and my husband headed back in to town to get us some breakfast. I got out my anti-gravity chair and hung out reading and keeping an eye on my horse.

The only drawback to getting to ride camp so soon is there's really not a whole lot to do. It's kinda boring, really. And it certainly doesn't help my anxiety level! By the time the ride meeting came around, I was so spun up I could've gotten on and rode right then. The extra time was good for Hoss, though. His heart rate was higher than usual, probably because he was standing in the sun all day, but otherwise he had recovered better than usual.

It finally got late enough to crawl in to bed. We had set up to sleep in the back of the trailer, as the weather was nice. The only problem is when Hoss starts digging deep in his hay bag, he makes the whole trailer move. It's not so bad in that I can be very sure he hasn't managed to untie or unclip himself and wander off.

About two hours before start, I got up and gave Hoss some more hay and his beet pulp mush. I laid back down for an hour, then got up to groom and saddle and get ready to go. My husband made me a wonderful breakfast of fried eggs and sausage.

Not having ridden with the flank cinch for very long, I wasn't sure how tight I should make it. As a horse works, it will tend to suck up its belly, resulting in the flank cinch becoming loose. When I'd ridden him to test the flank cinch, I hadn't ridden him long enough to determine how much he'd "shrink" his belly. I knew I wanted it to be snug enough to remain against his belly.

A little before start time we headed over to the start line. We met up with our riding partners for the day, Kaity Elliot and Kody. We headed out in the pre-dawn light. Hoss was a bit of a handful. You'd think after 1000+ endurance miles he'd be better than this. Instead I have a horse trying to bolt and generally acting a fool. Interestingly I've gotten rather good at putting up with this without yanking on his face or using the reins to hold him back. He pitched a nasty fit, behaving as though I was yanking on him when I had no pressure on the reins at all. I did find he settled down much earlier than usual. Whether that was because I wasn't fighting with him or he's finally decided it doesn't do any good I don't know.

The first sixteen miles went remarkably quickly. While we were riding on an old railroad track bed, Kaity found the turn, but a good ten or fifteen other riders (65 milers who had caught up to us back of the pack 100 milers) rode on past the turn. I recall when I attempted the 65 years ago with Phoenix we missed that very same turn. Added a good five or six miles to get all the way to a road, figure out we'd missed a turn, and make it back to the turn. This year the turn was not as well marked as it had been the year Phoenix and I missed it along with several other riders.

I noticed Hoss was not trotting quite like usual. He felt a bit choppy and short-strided. I looked at our shadow and noticed the flank cinch had become significantly looser. My guess was the loose flank cinch was a bit tickly and most likely the cause of his altered gait.

Just before we arrived at the first vet check, someone fired some sort of shotgun. Hoss really dislikes gunfire, and his heart rate shot up. Adding to his distress, Kody and Kaity had gotten fairly far ahead of us. Hoss really needs to walk in to vet checks in order to get his heart rate down. I had tried to slow him before Kaity had slowed Kody. This did not go over well. The result of all this madness was Hoss taking a good five minutes longer than usual to come down to criteria (set at 60 for this ride).

The first vet hold was 15 minutes. Once Hoss's heart rate had come down I took him directly to the vet and got him passed. My husband had set up Hoss's food and water across from where Kaity's crew had set up. Hoss was impossible. He was looking for Kody and not paying any attention to food or water. I finally gave up and we went over to be near Kody. Even though he was near Kody, however, Hoss did not really eat, instead more interested in looking around and nibbling on the local bushes.

Kaity decided to stay the extra time so we could leave the vet check together. We would make up the five minutes on the trail.

I had tightened Hoss's flank cinch during the hold. Once we had been back on trail a few minutes, we picked up the trot to continue on our way. Hoss's gait was more normal. I could only conclude the flank cinch had, indeed, caused him to trot weird. In the future I'll have to remember to snug it down further than it seems it should go.

The next 15 miles went somewhat less quickly, but quickly enough. Kaity and Kody cantered several times, but it became clear Hoss wasn't really interested in cantering. He'd rather trot. Not that he didn't want to stay with Kody, but he wasn't motivated enough to run to do it. The wind was blowing pretty hard, but it kept the temperatures down so I really couldn't complain. It wasn't blowing as bad as it had at Fire Mountain, so it really didn't feel like much in comparison.

We came in to the 31 mile vet check and hour hold, and I checked Hoss through. His heart rate came down much more quickly, and when Kody walked away from him he really didn't seem to mind particularly. The wind was blowing enough in the vet check area to put up dust clouds from time to time. My husband had set up a bran mash and hay for Hoss and was cooking up some soup for me. Hoss was being a bit of a pill. At first I didn't tie him off, and he wandered away. My husband had to go retrieve him. At that point I tied him to the workbench inside my truck. He still wouldn't eat once he'd finished his bran mash, so I took the hay bag off the truck and put it on the ground. Hoss doesn't like to eat with the hay bag up high. He can be more than a little persnickety. Once the hay bag was on the ground he ate a little better.

The next section was quite a bit longer. The next check was at 55 miles, making for 24 miles between the second and third checks. We took off with Kaity and Kody. We crossed under the train tracks and were on a relatively flat, broad section of trail. Once again Kaity and Kody cantered several times, leaving Hoss and me behind.

We came to a long uphill climb. Kaity and Kody had caught up with another rider. We had all three ridden together for a time, but Hoss faded back when we were going up the hill. The other two horses were simply faster up the hill than Hoss is. Hoss plugged along gamely enough, but he just couldn't keep up. The other two horses would periodically slow down, allowing Hoss to catch up, only to speed back up to a trot, and Hoss had to simply keep working. He was getting a little fed up with the whole thing.

After we topped the hill we came to a long, slightly downhill power line road. Hoss did better along this part of the trail. Still, when the other horses started cantering, he wasn't interested in doing the same. The other horses got further and further ahead, and Hoss quit trying to keep up with them, although he would have been happy to catch them. By the time we got to the next water stop, some three or four miles from the 55 mile vet check, Kaity and the other rider were well ahead of us. By the time we arrived at the vet check, Kaity and Kody were about ready to leave. Hoss's heart rate had come down, but I didn't feel like he was really ready to see the vet, as it looked to me from his heart rate monitor that he was still a little elevated. Hoss always seems to do his best if he gets to eat a little bit before going to the vet. Kaity asked if I wanted to go ahead and vet him while Kody was still there, but I sent her on her way. Hoss didn't seem to particularly care whether Kody was there or not. Which only lasted until Kody headed out on the trail. Hoss started calling for him almost immediately. It really didn't seem to make much difference, though. He gave it up pretty quickly in preference for the bran mash and hay my husband had laid out for him. Toward the end of the 15 minute hold, I took him to the vet and he passed well.

The next ten miles were difficult. Hoss was not particularly interested in going much faster than a walk. I suspect he was thinking this was just about over. I managed to get him to trot on the flatter and downhill parts of the trail, but he was dragging on the uphills. We finally arrived at base camp about 5:30pm, not bad really. Hoss's heart rate came down immediately and we headed to the trailer for our hour hold.

The vets wanted to see horses with saddles off for this check. I pulled Hoss's saddle while he ate and sat down for my own dinner, prepared by my awesome husband. (Do I say how great he is often enough? I don't think so.) When we had about fifteen minutes left in our hold, I took Hoss to the vet. He passed, once again with flying colors. I did have to take along a whip as a little incentive to get him to trot, but once he did he looked fine. He just needed a little more encouragement than the end of his leadrope waved at him could provide.

When I tied Hoss back to the trailer, he stuck his head back in his hay and started eating. Well, once I put the saddle pad back on his back, he stopped eating and got this absolutely disgusted look on his face. He made his displeasure evident when I mounted and headed him back toward the trail. Not interested, he said, and walked like a drunk. I did get him back out there, but he was less than pleased about the whole idea. He thought we should be done by now, dammit.

The next 25 miles were difficult to say the least. I could manage to kick Hoss up to a trot for forty or fifty yards, but then he'd fall back to a very slow walk and refuse to move any faster. When we reached the highway, another horse was waiting for a trailer. His rider had decided to pull. I let Hoss stop in hopes he'd drink, but he was more interested in food. Unfortunately the only hay available was stuff he can't have, so I was only able to allow him to eat the natural stuff – more like sticks – around the water tanks. (There were several other people around, and I always love it when people try to tell me I should just let Hoss eat whatever he wants. Would they tell me to eat shellfish if that was the only thing available, despite being allergic to it? I don't think so!) 

The trailer arrived right about the time I was getting Hoss back on the trail. He was really unhappy. He wanted to get in the trailer, too! When we crossed the highway, I couldn't get him to move faster than about 2 mph for some time. He did eventually give it up and move a little faster.

I was very grateful for a fairly good amount of glo-sticks. Had it not been for the dim glow in the distance, Hoss and I would've ended up out in the desert wandering around 'til dawn. One of Hoss's favorite tricks for slowing down is to start heading down what he knows is the wrong trail. At this point we were back on trail we had covered earlier, and there were turn-offs every 100 yards or so. It was down hill, so I was rather insisting Hoss trot. He would point himself down a wrong turn, and ignore my leg (which was pretty much gone by this point anyway) until I was forced to take up the reins and force him over. Well, of course, if I pick up the reins it must be because I want him to slow down! At that point in a ride (some 80 or so miles) I simply didn't have enough leg to keep him going and turn him at the same time. I would pick up the reins to push him over and he'd comply, and drop to a walk at the same time. We went through this several times.
When we finally arrived at the water stop a few miles from the final out vet check, I got off to give him electrolytes. The muscle in the back of my right leg promptly cramped up. For several minutes I was laying on the ground beside my horse hoping I could get the cramp to die down enough to finish the ride.
The cramp finally released enough for me to get back up without ending up falling down. I gave Hoss his electrolytes, although he didn't drink at that point, then managed to get back in the saddle.

Hoss recognized where we were and sped up, but not much. We still mostly walked the rest of the way to the vet stop.

While we were walking through the wilds, I saw a pair of eyes glowing off to my left in the light of my head lamp (due to my extremely poor night vision, I must use a flashlight at night; I did try several times during the night to go without the light, but Hoss would have succeeded in getting us off trail if I had). About thirty seconds later, a silver fox darted across the trail. I could only see it because of the head lamp. Not long after that, I saw the glow of the fox's eyes again, and once again it darted across the trail. This went on for about a mile. It was truly a cool experience. I really wish I had a camera that could take good night shots!

We finally made it to the vet check and Hoss was just so hungry I couldn't make him just continue on after being checked over. This was a "pulse and go" style hold, so we did not have to stay, but I gave Hoss fifteen minutes to eat before we made the final 10 miles back to camp.

Hoss really knew now we were headed back to camp. While he still didn't want to trot, his walk picked up. I did bring along the whip I had put in the truck for the final out vet check, in an effort to get him to move out at least a little more. It didn't work as well as I had hoped. There was no way he was going to trot uphill at all. He would trot some on the flat and downhill, but not fast. Really for the most part it was just as easy to let him walk. By this point he was at least walking at a reasonable pace.

We finally walked in to camp at 4:30am. Hoss's heart rate was well below criteria, and he passed the final vet check quite well. I would've liked for him to trot out better, but it was adequate. I took him to the trailer and got him untacked. I was thinking it wasn't very cold and I might leave his blanket off until I happened to check my husband's clock with the thermometer on it. It was 36 degrees! Much cooler than I felt it was. So I went ahead and put Hoss's blanket on, even though I knew once the sun was well up I'd have to take it off.

My husband didn't stir as I got in the trailer and changed. He woke up a bit as I crawled into my sleeping bag, and I teased him about not being up to see us come in. The end of an endurance ride is a little anti-climactic, unless you happen to be the one on the horse. I was asleep in minutes after I lay down.

We were awakened a few times. Once by another entrant asking if I had finished. Which prompted me to have to get up to check on Hoss. He was fine, but I gave him more food. We slept another hour or so, then headed over for breakfast. The ride meeting wasn't until much later, so back to bed I went. Unfortunately my hip started to really give me some pangs, and the painkillers were not touching it. Later in the morning I was able to rest comfortably in my anti-gravity chair.

I remember a time when a twenty five mile ride left me exhausted. I remember when fifty miles was enough to cripple me for days. After having completed my first 100 mile endurance ride, I can say this is the truest test of endurance for horse and rider.

Looking Good

I was really getting to the point where I was resigned to not making Twenty Mule Team this weekend. Then I got up this morning and, while not feeling perfect, I certainly felt perky enough. I'm still coughing, but while I sound like something that shouldn't come up will, I feel pretty okay. The only icky feeling I have is most likely the side effect of taking a combination of Albuterol inhaler, narcotic cough syrup, and the narcotic to control my hip pain. My hip wasn't particularly bothering me since I started the treatment for the pneumonia, but this morning I started to notice it. I take that as another sign I'm getting better. It can't possibly be just the narcotic cough syrup covering for that, too.

Based on feeling better, and since I haven't ridden in something close to three weeks other than a lesson, I took Hoss out for a ride around the neighborhood. Hoss was so excited when I took him out of the pasture. He was more than ready to get out. Since I've been sick, I haven't been taking walks so he hasn't gotten out at all in several days.

I cleaned Hoss up the best I could, considering how long it had been since he'd had a good grooming. I saddled him up and put a flank cinch on. With the girth gall we've been fighting since June, I decided I needed to try a flank cinch to hold his girth back off the area that keeps getting rubbed open. Having had so long off, it's nearly completely healed and I'd like to keep it that way. The only flank cinch I have is from his old saddle, so I had to pull it off and wrestle it on to the saddle we're now using.

It's amazing how hard it can be to do something so simple. This saddle has slots cut into the leather for a flank cinch but they've clearly never been put to use. I had to get the billets, which are really a smidge too thick for the holes in the saddle, not just through the leather, but through the less-than-fully-cut-through fleece on the bottom of the saddle. I was panting rather hard when I was done, but I got it done. There's another fix I need to do on the saddle, namely the Blevins connectors for my fenders, but I forgot to do it. I did get a new pair, but unfortunately they're too narrow. I will have to pull the ones off of the old saddle and hope they fit. I'm not too keen on riding 100 miles with one bad connector, even if the fix my friend did in Arizona has held for over 400 miles now.

Since the plan was a walking ride, I decided it would be okay to let Roxy come along as well. Despite her age and infirmity, she still wants to go. The past couple of days, my daughter has taken out the mountain bike and done a couple quick laps with the dogs to make up for me not walking. Roxy has been going on one lap, but coming home after that. I was planning to go farther, but walking she should be able to keep up well enough.

Hoss behaved himself very well for a highly fitted up horse who hasn't had a good ride in several weeks. A few times I had to get after him for silly behavior. He was using any barking dog as an excuse to try to spin around and run away. It took a little work, but he was pretty obedient for most of the ride. We only got in about five miles, but it was nice to get out.

The fresh air and stimulation sure seemed to help me. My lungs started to feel clearer about halfway through the ride. It was a warm, dry day, perfect for clearing up yucky, wet lung conditions.

By the time we got back, Hoss had worked up a decent sweat, and we'd hit enough hills to see if my flank cinch was helping keep the girth back. It appears to do the trick, so we'll be using it at Twenty Mule Team this weekend. Yep, we're gonna go.

I gave Hoss a nice bath, which he desperately needed. He even seemed to enjoy the bath. Especially since after the bath he got his beet pulp mush. He was tied to the trailer while I went into the garage to get his beet pulp, and he was quite perked up when I came back out with it. He really wanted that mush!

While Hoss was eating I got DC out. She had run herself into a sweaty mess and had had just as little grooming as Hoss. She, too, was happy to get out of the pasture, if only because Hoss was out. I don't know how much exposure DC has had to bathing, so I didn't tie her off to hose her down. I was hoping she would accept it well enough to get a full shampooing, but she was definitely not going to do well in that department. If I could've run her in an arena before trying to bathe her, I might have been able to get more done. Her response to the water being turned on, however, was to leap sideways and halfway rear. I hadn't even turned it on her. It didn't take a whole lot of effort to get her hosed off, but she acted like she had never been hosed off in her life. I can believe she's never seen the type of hosing device I use, but I imagine if I ask Beth she'll say DC has been hosed off before. I contented myself with getting her well hosed off before tying her to the trailer and getting her beet pulp mush.

While the horses ate I started on getting things ready to go to the ride. Once the horses were dry I brushed them out and applied Laser Sheen liberally to both of them. I contemplated going ahead and trimming DC and shoeing Hoss (he hasn't seen a trimming since I put shoes on him at Death Valley; bad horse mom), but decided against it because I felt it would be just a little bit too much in my condition. I'll do feet tomorrow.

After the horses were put away, I got much of the horse-related loading done and Hoss's saddle pad and cooler in the wash. We'll have nice clean things to use at the ride.

Well, I'm not 100% yet by any means, but I feel well enough to go. Since Hubby Honey is home, he is happy enough to do the lion's share of the driving both to and from the ride, giving me more time to rest and recover. Our plan is to leave late Thursday night, in an effort to arrive at the ride with as close to 24 hours before the ride as possible for Hoss to recover from the trailer ride.

Another wonderful thing, I'm actually feeling tired! I've been having a hard time getting to sleep until 1 or 2 in the morning. Tonight, though, I feel ready to go to bed nice and early. I'm going to get my bag packed or at least started, and go to bed, hopefully to sleep well and peacefully and get up at a decent hour for once.

Reality Check

After being all excited to find my name at the top of the list on National Mileage, I thought I'd better go back and see what past records are.

In the past five years, most winners of the National Mileage award had 2000+ miles. Only one had a little over 1800 miles.

Well. That's not about to happen for us this year. It's only Hoss's third competition year. I'm not prepared to try to get to that many rides this year. I've already selected our rides for the year, and it's double my goal for the year as is.

Add to that, due to this past weekend's Eastern Mojave Scenic ride, at least two riders have surpassed our mileage once those results post to AERC. What has happened nationally, I don't know. Other riders may have already out done us and I won't know it until those results post.

Still, it's fun to be "in the running," as it were. No, we're not going to win this year. We may not even win next year. But I know we can win, we'll just have to do a whole lot more miles. I might have gone to Eastern Mojave if it weren't so close to Hoss's first 100 miler. Once he's completed a 100 mile ride, I'll probably be more willing to do multi-day rides closer to 100 mile events. It will depend on his performance and how he feels about it afterward.

We're supposed to go to Twenty Mule Team this weekend for our first 100 mile ride. I'm not at all sure we'll make it. It's not Hoss, it's me. I'm still getting my butt kicked pretty hard by this bronchitis/pneumonia thing. I had chest x-rays done today. I should find out later for sure what is going on.

Three days into treatment, I don't feel appreciably better. I'm hoping by tomorrow I'll feel like I'm on the mend. What I'm worried about is I'm not getting the right treatment for the condition I actually have. We'll see. I really, really do not want to have to withdraw from this ride. It really is our only chance this year to do a 100 mile ride.

These days, 100 mile rides are few and far between. It seems I'll have to do a great deal of driving in order to get many 100 mile rides in during Hoss's endurance career. I really wish more managers would put them on, but I understand the dilemma. The 100 mile rider seems to be a dying breed, with the exception of the International riders. International riders want to ride 100 mile events that are sanctioned by the International body, and tend to skip the ones that are strictly AERC sanctioned events. This leaves those of us who want to ride 100 mile rides but have no interest in International competition with few choices for 100 mile rides.

So, I really am holding out to the last minute to make the final decision whether we go to Twenty Mule Team or not. I surely hope I can make it. At this point, I'll take better than I am now and just go!

Oh, and on another note, Mom was checked out and released from the hospital. No new damage on the CT scan. With any luck, this too shall pass and we won't have any further scares.

There Are Days, Part 2

Mom was greatly relieved to be home. We were assured by the neurologist she would be recovered within a week. I was a little skeptical of this prediction, as I have suffered a brain injury (which is, in essence, what a stroke is) and it took me way longer than a week to be recovered. My own brain injury was far less significant than my mother's, so I doubted the doctor's veracity. Still, I was happy to have her out of that place and was content to have her seen by her regular doctor and referred to a neurologist by him.

Tuesday my husband went down and spent the day with Mom. Her roommate, my sister's best friend since high school, was working, and I was supposed to work, so my husband was "it." We talked several times over the course of the day. I reminded Mom to make an appointment with her regular doctor, which she got for Wednesday.

On Wednesday I went down to spend the day with Mom and take her to her doctor's appointment. The appointment went just fine. I did have to correct things she said from time to time, and add stuff she forgot. I'm glad I was able to be there with her, as it's clear she'll need someone with her at appointments to make sure the story is always straight. Her doctor gave her referrals for a neurologist and a vascular surgeon.

Once I got her home, I made sure she called and made appointments with the neurologist and the vascular surgeon. I also made sure she took her meds, as she had forgotten to take them in the morning.

Mom was very keen to go to bells and choir that afternoon/evening. I headed out to pick up a prescription for Mom and some Rimadyl for my dog, Roxy, and made it back just in time to head to the church for bell rehearsal.

During bell rehearsal, Mom had a difficult time finding the measure the director wanted. I was asked to sit in, and was beside Mom, so I pointed out the appropriate measure to her. She couldn't really keep up, and it wasn't until the end of rehearsal that she was confident enough to ring from time to time.

After rehearsal I noticed Mom was having much more difficulty communicating. Everybody wanted to talk to her and my protective mama-bear side came out. I did my best to shield her somewhat so she didn't have to speak more than necessary. I knew from experience the less she had to think, the better. It was clear to me she was over-tired just from that little bit of mental exercise.

We went and had dinner at the local Subway with another member of the bell and vocal choir. Mom was having trouble getting out what she wanted to say, but didn't seem so bad as to make her go home before choir rehearsal.

The surprise when everyone saw Mom at choir rehearsal was priceless. The choir member we went to dinner with said the bar was being set way too high. Since Mom had come back after having a stroke (and I had come back after shoulder surgery, and another member had come back a week after giving birth with baby in tow) the only acceptable excuse for missing choir rehearsal from now on would be death.

After choir we visited with the other members over cookies and juice for a time before heading home. I drove Mom home before heading home myself, getting me home rather late with an early start working in the morning.

On Thursday my husband went back to Mom's to spend the day. It turned out her roommate had the day off, so he didn't need to be there, but they had been experiencing problems with the wireless internet dropping out, so he stayed to put in a new wireless router and do some other "honey-dos" around the house. Mom had a nail appointment that morning.

I called my husband to see how things were going. He told me, quite casually, Mom thought she had had another stroke, as she wasn't any better than she had been the night before. I can only say I freaked just a little bit. Mom's roommate had already taken her for her nail appointment, but they had put a call in to her regular doctor. To which I said, he's only going to tell us to take her to the ER, after which he'll hang up shaking his head. I had my sister call her friend, as I was pretty sure I was just going to end up yelling.

I was right when I said the doctor would say to take Mom to the ER. I later got a call that they were heading out to Sharp Hospital. I was working, so I had to be kept up to speed through texts and phone calls. It made for a tense and stressful day, but if there's one thing horses can do it's keep me from getting too worked up. If I started exhibiting too much stress energy, the horse I was working on let me know it and right now. I had to breathe and let go of my angst in order to get my work done.

By the time I was finishing the last horse, it became clear I was coming down with some creeping crud. My husband was with my mother, so I needed to go home to feed. I was coughing and sniffling like mad. My husband told me not to bother coming down. The hospital staff had kicked out a woman who was exhibiting signs of illness, even though it was her minor child she was there with. Very strict no sick people other than those being treated policy. They let the mother wait in the waiting room but she had to wear a mask.

The neurologist at the new hospital was filled in on what was going on. In the morning my husband called me and gave me the sketch of what the doctor had said. She was very concerned about the medications Mom was on. Indeed, she called it a "Molotov cocktail she won't wake up from one morning." I was a little skeptical of this and asked for further details. It turned out the doctor thought Mom was on a cornucopia of pain drugs. The drugs she thought Mom was taking should have been on the list of drugs Mom is allergic/reactive to.

The neurologist came in to see Mom and my husband called me so I could participate. My sister was at work and unavailable. So it was on me to make sure things were going right. By this time several tests had been done, most of them repeats of the tests done at Alvarado. The neurologist told us she had "no idea what they were talking about" in reference to the degree of blockage in Mom's carotid arteries. According to this doctor, there was little to no blockage, and certainly not enough to be the prime suspect in Mom's stroke. The neurologist wanted more tests. She was determined to discover what had caused Mom's stroke. She set up for Mom to be seen by a cardiologist, speech therapist, occupational therapist, and physical therapist.

I made sure the neurologist knew Mom wasn't on the narcotic medications she had thought Mom was taking. This clearly relieved the doctor. I'm sure she corrected the record. Somewhere along the line, someone had written those drugs in the wrong place.

Further testing came up empty. We still don't know why Mom had a stroke. We expected the neurologist would want to put in arterial filters to help prevent future strokes. This did not turn out to be the case, and once Mom was seen by the various doctors and therapists, she was sprung on Monday.

Unfortunately, as of this morning, Tuesday, Mom was sent back to the hospital by the neurologist because she is experiencing right side numbness. With any luck, it is only a blip and not a new stroke event. The neurologist evidently sent her back more as a precaution than because she thought something was really going awry.

I am far more comfortable with the treatment and attention she is receiving at this hospital.

We have learned a lot of things in this experience. When Mom was first admitted to Alvarado with a suspected stroke, she should not have been given her high blood pressure medications. One of the body's responses to a stroke is to raise blood pressure in an attempt to clear the blood clot/s on its own and increase blood flow to the brain in general. By controlling her blood pressure, the attending doctor made a conscious decision to ignore the ER doctor's concerns. Mom should have been in the MRI within 6 hours of arriving in the hospital. It was well over 24 hours before an image was taken.

My sister asked the neurologist, point blank, if there was any chance of suing Alvarado Hospital over the clear errors they made. The neurologist said it would be very difficult to prove any harm. I suspect if she were able to confidently point to any absolute harm she would be more than happy to testify on Mom's behalf, so I believe her when she says it would be difficult.

I think the biggest lesson I took from this was, never go to Alvarado Hospital!

A Pleasant Surprise

I'm going to break up the whole craziness with Mom with this post. At this point, Mom's situation is not well known. I would like to be able to have a final diagnosis/prognosis before I finish posting about her. So, on to a more endurance-related and fun post.

On a lark I decided to check out the points standings on the AERC website. It is my goal, some day, to take Hoss to win some high-mileage awards. It occurred to me we had done enough miles we might be in the standings.

I went to the AERC website and first pulled up the points standings for Pacific Southwest district. Imagine my surprise when I found Hoss and I are in third place in my division, and tied for first overall!

Another mileage award we would be eligible for is the Pioneer Award, for those riding and completing all days of a multi-day ride three days or longer. So I checked the Pioneer Award, and we are in fifth place, again in my weight division (middleweight). Every rider on the Pioneer Award list has the same number of miles, but because Hoss and I are rather pokey, the other riders have more points than we do. Points are based on where we finish in each day's ride. I only have a dim understanding of points, as I have little hope we'll ever be high-point winners, but rather will win through sheer mileage.

This caused me to investigate further, and I pulled up the National Mileage standings. My eyes just about popped out. We are currently in first place! Now, we're in first place by a mere 50 miles. The ride season is still young. These standings could change from week to week as ride results come in to the AERC office.

This leaves me with a challenge. I went through the ride calendar, and I have another 1035 miles of endurance I want to do this year. I know I said our goal is 750, but that doesn't mean we can't aspire to more. Besides, seeing our names at the top of the National Mileage standings felt good. I'd like to keep us there if we can.

There's a lot of time left in the ride year. Anything can happen. I am encouraged by Hoss's performance in his last 400 miles. I think so long as I am careful and manage him correctly, we have a real shot at winning or at the very least placing in National Mileage, if not in my weight division.

February 25 is our first chance at a 100 miler. It is the only opportunity we'll have this year. It's important to me that Hoss and I complete at least one, preferably two, 100 mile rides before we go to Tevis. We already have enough endurance miles to qualify to enter Tevis. I'd really like for both of us to have experienced riding all day and all night before we hit the Tevis trail.

So, of course there's a complication. Aside from my mother's health, I have taken a turn for the worse in the health department. On Thursday, while I was finishing the last horse of the day, I noticed I was beginning to feel a little off. By the time I was done loading the truck, I had developed a cough and a very mild sore throat.

Friday I was very definitely sick, but still confident I'd get over it in little time. Saturday came, and wow, I was still sick, but felt well enough to take the dogs for a walk. That was, however, all I could do. I spent the rest of the day camped out in my chair. I had hoped to get in a short trail ride, maybe give Hoss a bath, but it wasn't going to happen.

Sunday (today) I was not any better. Overnight I had a difficult time sleeping. I kept coughing and just felt miserable all night long. No medications seemed to be doing me much good.

I had to be at church early to ring in both services, along with my daughter who was standing in for her grandmother in bells. My voice was pretty much gone. Of course, everyone wanted to know how Mom was, so I didn't get much of a break for my vocal chords.

Between services I decided I was bad off enough to head out to the urgent care. My hope was to get some sterner meds into me so by Monday I'll be well enough to work. My daughter took me out to the urgent care. The doctor thought he heard a little pneumonia in one of my lungs, but decided not to go for an x-ray unless I get worse. He gave me prescriptions for antibiotics, steroids, and a rather stern cough medicine.

I've been home a few hours now and have taken the first dose of steroids and antibiotics and the cough medicine. Aside from the cough having quieted down, I don't feel appreciably better. Usually, with plain ol' bronchitis, I'm already feeling better within a few hours of the first dose of steroids. I'm afraid I may have pneumonia, and now I regret not going ahead with the chest x-rays. If it is pneumonia, it's the first time I've ever had it. Monday is a holiday, and I'm worried my doctor's office will be closed. I swear they take the least opportunity to take a day off.

If the doctor's office is closed, I'll have to go back to the urgent care or the hospital. The cough medicine wore off enough for me to start coughing again – it's supposed to last 4 hours, but seems to only be good for 3. My husband is threatening to take me to the ER tonight because the cough is so painful. I may go along, as the sooner I have a diagnosis, the sooner I get appropriate treatment and get over this thing!

The long and short of it is, I need to get better in a hurry. I'm pretty set on going to Twenty Mule Team this weekend and finishing 100 miles. Since it is our only chance to get in a 100 miler this year, it's not like I can toss it aside easily.

There Are Days, and Then There Are Days

I was planning to ride last Saturday after I finished my morning walk with the dogs, horses and the goat. I was contemplating where I would go to further explore the home trails, and what I wanted to do with my saddle, when I saw my husband coming toward us.

It is beyond unusual for my husband to voluntarily come out on a walk. In fact, it's unheard of. So I immediately knew something was up. He handed me his phone (I'd left mine at home) and told me to call my sister, our mother was being transported by ambulance to the hospital.

My husband doesn't have my sister's cell phone number in his phone, so the only number I had available was for her home. I spoke briefly with my brother-in-law. He told me Mom had started showing signs of confusion. She had gone to her volunteer job as a tax preparer and he "boss" quickly realized something wasn't right. He called for an ambulance.

I wasn't overly concerned because Mom has had episodes of confusion in the past related to her blood sugar. She is a Type 2 diabetic. Recently she's been dieting and has lost a significant amount of weight. The result was, one of the drugs she was on for her diabetes was causing her blood sugar levels to tank. She stopped taking that med, but I still felt it was possible her problem was the result of her medications.
My dogs showed me just how much stress I was under. Only Tanner – who is pudgy and unlikely to ever turn down food under any circumstance – ate breakfast. The other three looked like they couldn't think about food.

I started making phone calls to let people know what was going on and make sure things at church would be covered. Mom plays in the Wednesday night bell choir (UUbellation) and they were scheduled to play in both services the next day. I ended up playing her position myself, as I had to be there for both services anyway for Chalice Choir and the new Women's Choir.

My sister called to update me on what was going on with Mom. Mom was unable to communicate clearly. She would start out a sentence well enough but quickly deteriorate into nonsense syllables. She also had trouble understanding what was said to her. The ER doctor had decided Mom had most likely suffered a mild stroke. He admitted her for further diagnostics.

By the time my husband, daughter and I reached the hospital, Mom was being moved into a room. My sister was in the visitor lounge waiting for Mom to be settled in her room. My sister needed to leave to be with her two younger children while her husband and eldest son went to take care of an errand they had to get done that day. So my sister left, and it was me, my husband, my daughter, and my "volunteer sister," who is my sister's best friend from high school and lives with our mother.

Once Mom was in the room, we all went in to see her. The signs all said no more than 2 people at a time, but we promptly ignored them. All of us were in the room when the nurse came in. My first notion we might not be in a hospital we wanted to be in was when that nurse walked in and blanched at our presence. Clearly she did not want us around. And our further experiences with her did nothing to change our original impression of her.

In the ER, my sister was told Mom would receive an MRI, although the CT she had when she first arrived came back negative. The ER doctor clearly still believed Mom had suffered a stroke, even if it didn't show on the CT.

I eventually sent my daughter and husband to retrieve Mom's car from the Kroc Center, where she had driven in order to do her "job." We knew it was safe enough there at least until night, but realized we had to get it out of there.

While we waited – and waited, and waited – for Mom to be seen by any sort of doctor, she improved markedly. She went from "speaking in tongues" to being reasonably understandable. She was able to understand what we said, but she complained she couldn't bring to mind the words she wanted to say. She had the most trouble with her medication names. If she spoke very briefly, she was clear, but the more she spoke the less sense she made. It didn't take me long to figure out what words she meant, and I was able to understand her reasonably well.

The nurse was in several times for various tasks, but still no doctor. At one point I mentioned she was suspected to have had a stroke, at which point the nurse said no, she wouldn't be on that floor if she had had a stroke. Okay, so what the hell's going on? In fact, I learned later from a client who works in that hospital that Mom certainly would have been sent to that floor for a stroke!

Mom's blood pressure was very high, and we were able to discover she had forgotten to take her medications in the morning. More like she had forgotten how. She knew she needed to take something, but couldn't get the steps together to do it. She also was unable to remember how to make her breakfast. Yet she had remembered she needed to go to the tax job and had driven herself there.

Someone (I'm assuming the attending physician) decided – without ever laying eyes on Mom – to give her high blood pressure meds. It was many hours later when the attending finally did come in and do an assessment. I was not impressed with the guy. He kept looking to speak to me rather than my mother, which annoyed me. Mom was able to understand what was going on just fine, and for her own dignity he should have been speaking to her. I rather subtly made that point when he asked a question and I turned to Mom and repeated the question to her.

My daughter left with my sister and her husband and daughter for dinner after she and my husband had retrieved Mom's car. They went out for some dinner, and my husband and I stayed with Mom until her roommate was able to arrive. I needed to get home before too long. While nobody at home would starve, I did want to get them fed before it got very late.

By the time we left, Mom still hadn't had an MRI done. And the neurologist had not been in to see her, either. I was beginning to be more than a little frustrated with the lack of care I felt Mom was receiving. My sister and I discussed moving her if they wanted to keep her for much longer. Hindsight being 20/20, we should have walked her out when she hadn't received an MRI, much less been seen by a doctor, four hours after she had been admitted to the hospital. She was perfectly ambulatory, so taking her to a different hospital would have been no trouble at all. And I'd really like to see them stop me from getting my mother out of there.

My sister went back to the hospital after she had had dinner, and noticed a marked improvement in Mom's condition in the few hours since she had last seen her. Also, the nurse shift had changed, and the new nurse was significantly better than the first one. She asked if Mom knew why she was there, and stated it was believed Mom had suffered a stroke. We decided Mom was safe enough by herself over night, and we all went home.

In the morning I went to church and my sister went to be with Mom. An interesting thing about this hospital. There was no accommodation for visitors. No chair in the room or anything. It was like they expected people to visit and just leave. We felt Mom needed a strong advocate with her at least during the day. So a chair was purloined from the visitor lounge, and one of the nurses' chairs was brought in, so we had a place to sit. No one said anything, but I had the distinct feeling we weren't really welcome.

Mom was finally seen by the neurologist on Sunday morning. He examined her briefly, then informed Mom and my sister that he believed Mom was suffering from a "confusional migraine." My sister being the person she is, she promptly researched the condition and found Mom only had one symptom matching confusional migraine. The neurologist still ordered an MRI, but we were a bit insulted he had given us this sort of pat-on-the-head answer without ruling out more serious conditions.

Mom had an MRI at about noon, and I showed up at the hospital to relieve my sister around 1pm. My sister headed home and I stayed with Mom. I hoped to meet this "neurologist" who had come up with his "diagnosis" before even having an MRI done. My sister told me she felt the neurologist had dismissed her concerns and minimized Mom's condition. Her impression was he thought Mom was just a dotty old lady with a daughter who didn't want to face that her mother was aging. Mom is only 75. The very notion that she has already become "dotty" is laughable. I wondered how many of her friends and associates I'd need to bring in to refute this guy's initial impression. I'm rather glad I never met him. I may have been inclined to shove him out the window. The windows, incidentally, did not open.

Not long after I arrived, the MRI tech came back for Mom. The doctor wanted additional images. This was not good news to me. It meant the doctor was suspicious of something he had seen and wanted to confirm it. I stayed as late as I reasonably could, knowing I needed to be back in the morning, but the neurologist neither called nor showed up.

At 6:30 on Monday morning, I got a call from my sister. The neurologist had finally deigned to let us know what was going on. Mom had had a stroke, but an atypical one. The way he described it was, a blood clot had gone up into Mom's brain but instead of sticking and creating one huge area of damage, it had broken into several pieces and created between ten and fifteen small areas of damage. He wanted two more tests, the results of which would determine if Mom would go home that day or not.

When I got back to the hospital, Mom had been put back on "fall risk" status and was not allowed to get up without the nurse. This was based strictly on the diagnosis of stroke, not on any evidence Mom had somehow lost the ability to get around on her own. The nurse had turned on the bed alarm, so if Mom so much as swung her legs off the bed the alarm would go off. It was very frustrating for her, as she knew perfectly well she was able to get about on her own and didn't need someone to come help her go to the bathroom, five feet from the bed.

After the additional tests had been done, we were (eventually) told Mom had 70% blockage in her right carotid artery and 50% blockage in her left artery. This was not good news. The attending doctor still needed to hear from the neurologist but felt it likely Mom would be staying and having a procedure to clear the blockage in her right artery. Privately, in my own mind, I decided if the neurologist wanted this procedure, I would be bundling Mom out of that godforsaken place and taking her to a real hospital.

A few hours later the attending told us Mom would be released. Mom couldn't have heard better news. Once she had signed the papers, it was all I could do to keep her from walking out under her own power. Indeed, she did end up walking out to the car to go home. I left her in the care of my volunteer sister and headed off to Monday night bell choir rehearsal.

This would seem to be the end of story, and how I wish it were. Stay tuned for the next installment (this has gotten rather too long already). You can read my sister's story of this incident here. Warning: my sister is a romance author, and there is cover art from her books on her blog. Just want to be careful anyone who might be offended or doesn't want their kids seeing these images is forewarned. In my opinion, they are tasteful if a bit racy. Hey, it's romance cover art!

Exploring the New Neighborhood

I've had three chances to get out and ride out of the property to explore. Of course, the first thing I did was figure out where we were going to do the morning walk. Just because we moved doesn't mean the walk stops. Perish the thought! So I had about a mile of trail already explored before I rode Hoss out to check out what else might be available.

At the end of the road we now live on, where it makes a sharp left, there is a sign posted which says "No Motorized Vehicle Activity." Once past this sign, we are in the Cleveland National Forest. This part of the forest is really not meant for much recreational use. Obviously there are some trails/roads through it. The challenge will be to find the trails/roads we can use!

With views like this, who needs to trailer out?

The first time we went out, I rode him to the fork which marks the end of our morning ride and headed to the right. This wide road-like section of trail continued on around to the right until we came to a gate. I thought we'd have to turn around, but realized we'd be able to get around the gate. There was some old cut up brush beside the gate, an obvious attempt to prevent motorized vehicles from accessing the area. Hoss negotiated the cuttings with little trouble and we headed out along a well-traveled dirt road. We were obviously on the regular roads again and back out of the forest area.

After a time riding on this road, we came to a T intersection, and I recognized the cross road we live off of. Uh-oh and Roxy had decided to come with us, which slowed us down. I wanted to ride past our road and check out some further trails I noticed off the next road. Unfortunately it was warm, and Uh-oh was coughing, so I rode back to our street and we went home.

The second time we went out, I ponied DC along with us. This time, she had a great time being ponied. Once again, Uh-oh and Roxy tagged along (we really will have to get the fence finished, so I can leave them safely behind!), slowing us down once more. It was late in the day, so we weren't going to get very far. I'd hoped to get some good trotting in, partly to keep up Hoss's condition and partly to give DC a chance to move out.

This time when we arrived at the fork, we went left. Roxy and Uh-oh were far behind, so we had to stop and wait for them. As a result of them being so slow, we wound up turning around with less distance than I would have liked. We did get a little trotting in, and Hoss did a little cantering as well. While Hoss cantered, though, DC merely extended her trot and never broke. She's gonna run circles around him when she grows up.

Hoss was a little spun up after having cantered some and was difficult on the way home. I hope this doesn't become an issue here as it was at the old place. Riding at home around the old place was unpleasant because Hoss wanted to go fast to get home. I'm hoping to avoid that here, as it appears we will be able to do a considerable amount of our conditioning – the short rides, at any rate – right out of our front gate. We'll only need to trailer out to get in the longer rides we need to do.

The latest time we headed out, I once again had to adjust my plans because of Uh-oh and Roxy. But it was okay, we were heading out earlier in the day, and really it's hard to know how fast we'll be able to go when what we're doing is exploring. So I wasn't too unhappy about being slowed down.

At the fork, we headed to the left. After a time, there was another fork, and I selected the right fork. The trail became less usable, but passable, as we went along. I could see dirt bike tracks in the dirt. So much for that sign, eh? I had been seeing hoof prints, so I was reasonably confident I was on a good trail. Unfortunately this trail teed off at a section of trail which is evidently cut off from any other trail. We headed along It in both directions and found dead ends. So we went back up to where we'd taken the last fork and headed down the other fork.

Going along this trail, we came across an abandoned vehicle, a red pickup truck. It was pretty well stripped. Some of its parts were around. One of the bucket seats was set to the side with the seat slashed open. The axles and wheels were gone. All the glass was gone. Very interesting. I wonder what the insurance company was told happened? Of course it could easily have been stolen and taken off into the wilds to be stripped….

We continued past the junker and followed the trail up toward an abandoned house. This is an old mobile home which has clearly been unoccupied for a number of years. Most of the windows are broken and there is a lot of junk strewn about the yard. The hoof prints I had been seeing went through this property, so I continued on my way, confident we at least weren't the first to violate the property.

Abandoned house, from the road below

We rode off the abandoned property and on down the road. Another road turned off to the left, but there were "No Trespassing" signs, so we stayed on the road we were on. Not far after that, I saw more "No Trespassing" signs, and lost the hoof prints I had been seeing. We seemed to have come to an impasse. There was no way to continue on I could clearly see was okay for us to go. I turned Hoss around and we headed back the way we had come.

By the time we got home we had covered just over 5.5 miles. Not too shabby, considering. I think Roxy and Uh-oh may reconsider going along on trail rides. Both of them were downright beat. The next day, Uh-oh stayed home from the walk. Roxy was limping on one front leg and although she did go on the walk, it was clear she was bushed. She spent the rest of the day lying down very quietly!

There's a lot more to explore around here. I know there are more trails than we have found already. I hope Roxy and Uh-oh have learned their lesson, and the next time we head out, it will only be Mac and Ash coming along. I don't mind having them; they can keep up most days and need the exercise. 

I'm hoping to find between 8 and 12 miles of contiguous trail. It would be nice to have a loop, but I'll settle for out and back. I do have a three mile loop, if we go out to the right at the fork and come back around like we did the first day we went out. I understand there's quite a bit of trail and road connection, but I'll either have to find it all myself or find someone to show me around.