I felt the warm, summer breeze brush against my skin as Beauty and I took a ride down a trail in Southern Minnesota. My uncle followed close behind us with his horse, Fury, a stallion who was intimidated of anything and everything. Beauty was a risk-taker, a champion barrel racing quarter horse. Beauty and I had a connection. She always listened to me, which frustrated my uncle who dealt with her stubbornness on the daily.
It was mid-August and the trails were surrounded by beautiful trees and brush. There were ponds in the middle of open green pastures. It was a breathtaking view. You could smell what fresh air really smelt like out there; better than fresh cut vegetables and better than grass that was just mowed. I could feel the heat produce sweat across my brow, so I gave Beauty a little kick to force her into a trot, but trotting had never been my favorite. I then gave her another kick that signaled her to gallop. The breeze dried away my sweat and I felt like there wasn’t a thing in the world that could stop us. Beauty and I together were invincible.
Faster and faster she ran through the trails. I felt as though I was flying. We rounded a turn, but then the unthinkable happened; my boots left the security of the stirrups. All I had left to hang onto were the reins. I squeezed my legs together as hard as I could, but that just told Beauty to go faster. I tugged on the reins with all my might, but it wasn’t enough.
“Stop, Beauty, stop!” I pleaded with each ounce of my being, but it was no use. She kept going, faster and faster. I hit the dirt before I knew what was happening. I closed my eyes to the scene of Beauty running back to go get my uncle who trailed behind us. It was the last thing I saw. Unconsciousness overcame me.
The paramedics arrived with an ambulance, but the nearest hospital was 45 minutes away. The EMTs had a helicopter land in a nearby field. I needed medical attention as soon as possible. I could feel the stretcher beneath me as they carried me into the ambulance that was to bring me to the helicopter. As they loaded me in, they acknowledged my uncle with these dreaded words: “We’ll do everything we can for her. The odds aren’t looking good.”
It was my first helicopter ride, but I wasn’t conscious to witness it. I was rushed to the trauma room where my jeans and shirt were cut off of me to avoid damaging any possible fractured bones. A nurse threatened to put a tube down my throat if I didn’t stay awake and that is the first thing I remember since seeing Beauty go and get help. I was exposed to radiation several times before getting admitted to a room within the hospital.
The pain I suffered as a result from that day was most definitely the worst pain I have ever experienced. My spine felt as though I was being stabbed by a million knives all at once and my head pounded like a jackhammer. For reasons unknown, however, I walked away from that accident with not even a broken finger. I left that day with a concussion and a very sore body. I survived something that was supposed to kill me. How is it that I didn’t break anything?
I learned something very important that day, though; life is a gift and miracles are possible. That day I was given a second chance.
