The watchword for me
right now is “perseverance”. I’ve
been wrestling with abscesses in three of Siete’s hooves for the last
three weeks. I’m making very slow progress in bending my right elbow, even
though I’m spending three hours a day in my splints and doing exercises to
stretch and strengthen my arm.
Everything for too long has felt like it’s hanging on and on with no
signs that things are on the road back to “okay”.
The vet and farrier
have both been out again and again to try to drain Siete’s abscesses. We are
down to one very tenacious trouble spot in her front left hoof. She is so patient as I struggle awkwardly with
cleaning her feet and squirting Banamine in her mouth. The farrier told me to leave off
the hoof boot and Animalintex, but that made things worse. Following my instincts,
I soaked her foot in warm water and Epsom salts and then used a stinky poultice
called Hawthorn’s Sole Pack. We’re not out of the woods yet but she’s standing
on all four feet with equal weight and walking without limping today.
I went to the doctor
this week, expecting that he would praise me for the improvement in my arm, but
he was most discouraging. He keeps talking about doing a “manipulation”, where
he would knock me out and bend the elbow for me. It’s risky because it would
break up the scar tissue but might also do other damage. He doesn’t know if I
will be able to get the mobility back on my own, he says. There was a young
woman resident observing as he examined me, and while he left the room briefly,
she complimented me on my positive attitude. Then, she pointed to my right arm,
which was resting on my leg as I sat on the examining table. “Why do you hold
it like it’s a wounded bird?” she asked. I left the doctor’s office annoyed and
depressed.
Yesterday, at my
physical therapy session, my new therapist gave me good advice. She wants me to
stay focused on what I’m doing and not have any kind of “manipulation”. Since
she’s been doing this work for about 30 years and tells me that the elbow takes
the longest to heal, I’m going to trust her. She thinks six months to a year is
a realistic estimate for my recovery, and we’re at three months now. So she
wants me to keep working on it and have faith.
I was driving home and
as I stopped at a stoplight in an area of strip mall shopping centers, a red tailed
hawk suddenly flew very close over the hood of my car and landed on the small
patch of grass next to me. It really startled me, and I wondered if the bird
was injured. Then, I recalled the young resident’s remark and thought that yes,
I am like a wounded bird. Of course I’m protective of my arm! One of my wings
is damaged and I can’t fly.
When this accident happened and I had my surgery, I
bought myself a present. It’s a necklace that I wear every day. On one side of
the square pendent is an old illustration of a robin flying. On the other side
are these words from the pages of an old book: ”She went out on a limb, had it
break off behind her, and realized she could fly.” So, I guess I just have to
learn to fly again.
When I got home,I
looked up what it means when a hawk comes into your life. They are symbols of
protection. The Pueblo Indians use red hawk energy and feathers in healing
ceremonies. “The red tail can spread its wings to a great width, and it can
teach you to use your creative energies the same way. It can extend your vision
of life”, Ted Andrews explains in Animal Speak.
As I sat in my splint this morning, with my sore
arm encumbered by this contraption that forces my elbow to bend further, I
imagined doing what I once could do, and what I plan to be able to do again. I
saw myself stretching my arms out and waving them up and down gracefully like
wings as Siete runs in big circles around me in the pasture.
Birdwings
Your grief
for what you've lost lifts a mirror
up to where
you are bravely working.
Expecting
the worst, you look, and instead,
here's the
joyful face you've been wanting to see.
Your hand
opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were
always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be
paralyzed.
Your deepest
presence is in every small contracting and expanding,
the two as
beautifully balanced and coordinated
as
birdwings.
Rumi
P.S. I saw this quote that my friend, Mary Muncil, posted on her blog, "White Feather Farm", and it spoke to what I have been feeling: "Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding, find out what you already know, and you’ll see the way to fly." Richard Bach
P.S. I saw this quote that my friend, Mary Muncil, posted on her blog, "White Feather Farm", and it spoke to what I have been feeling: "Don’t believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitation. Look with your understanding, find out what you already know, and you’ll see the way to fly." Richard Bach
