Damn, damn, damn

It was late since I golfed tonight and I was only going to help Sam with the gate and come back in for the night so I had my soft slip on shoes on. But I Just had to spend a few minutes with Gilly. It was too tempting. I hadn't spent any time with his back feet for a while so I decided I'd try. He picked his left rear leg up so nicely I was careless. The next thing I remember is his foot planted on mine with conviction. I'm pretty sure I shouted, "This is it. I quit!"

He didn't mean to nail me. As I sobbed and carried on he seemed shocked and stood stock still. I hopped around and carried on for a while before I could get him penned up and hobble to the house. When I took my shoe off, my foot had swollen to the size of a softball. Bob got me to the hospital, but just couldn't resist asking if it was time to sell the horses? That was the wrong thing for him to say. My reply was, "Hell no!"

All the way to the hospital I cried and wallowed in self pity. Not that it hurt that much, it was just that I had a surprise party planned for Friday for Bob (I couldn't tell him about that), I had Gilly all to myself and now I wouldn't be able to ride. Another injury. I had visions of surgery and pins.

When the doctor came in with the Xray results and said nothing was broken, my emotions turned upside down. I think I screamed, "Yes!" I know I threw my arms up in the air with joy. Bob said, "Are you sure nothing is broken? She just broke a toe on that foot." The doctor dug out the February Xray and compared the two and said maybe I had refractured the little toe. Oh well. 4-6 weeks of hobbling again. A funny boot to wear. I did it before, I can do it again.