Living your best life

I read a post recently that was published by COTH about people living with auto immune disorders and this one ladies saga with her disease (Lupus).  It really affected me as her plight was very similar to my own.  It talked about how things changed in her life and how her support system came together to help her.  She made several changes in her life; she didn't jump as high anymore (I'm there), she wanted less stress at her job (trying to get there) and how she wanted to have her own horse property (also trying to get there). 


When I was a younger, people would frequently ask me why I wasn't jumping higher or showing.  The answer was, quite frankly, I didn't want to be.  Before I was diagnosed I felt tremendous pressure from other people to 'do more' with Chance.  Wasn't I worried I was wasting his prime just loping around little fences?  Why didn't I show more because he was such a nice horse?  Wasn't I feeling unfilled as a rider just being in a back yard?


The answer to all of that is NO.  I did for awhile but then one day it just kind of dawned on me.  I was happy at home.  I had shown a ton as a kid and one day, after my show horses had moved on to more suitable riders, it dawned on me now I had a choice.  I had a choice to stay home and train horses or I could show.  I preferred staying home.  Sure, I venture out from time to time to a show and I judge one show a year for Olivia and her On The Mark crew but in general horse shows make me insane.


I openly admit that I watch WAY too much reality TV including Dance Moms and Dancing Queen (because who doesn't love dancing AND a drag queen?!) and they all say the same thing before their kids go out there.  LEAVE IT ALL ON THE FLOOR HONEY!  That's probably the one thing that has changed in me since I got diagnosed.  I live every day 'leaving it all on the floor.'  Why do we save things for ONE moment in our day/week/month?  Life is too short to wait when you're mortality is on the line.  I could easily die in a fall down the stairs that someone else could survive.  Do I want to fall down those stairs thinking "I should've done XYZ thing?' 


I've tried to take the pin out of things I've waited to do and pushed play instead of pause.  That doesn't mean I'm out there living like a psychopathic idiot but it also means that I try to wait less and do more.  If I fell down those stairs today and had a few minutes left before I bled out what would I change?  Would I have ridden more?  (Ok, well we always would've ridden more)  Would I have jumped higher?  What regret would I have that I didn't do?  Right now, that only regret would be not having my horses at home.  It's a goal I'm working towards, but I also have to stay on budget and on financial track.  I'm also very fortunate that my horses are boarded somewhere that I love and that they are happy with.  If they have to be there for another few years it's not a huge loss.  There's a reason for everything and there's a reason why I'm still boarding. 


Right now, the bottom line for me is that I'm living what's my best life within reason.  I set goals for myself and try to accomplish them.  I have lists of things I want to do even if some of them are downright stupid.  You know, like the Go Ape experience that ended with a bleeding event but one hell of a good time.  That's the difference between the pre and post diagnosis.  Pre diagnosis wouldn't have been so interested in an aerial obstacle course but post diagnosis would. 


And that's my pearl of wisdom from a 'sick' person.  Don't wait to do what you want to do.  Live your best life.  Leave it all on the dance floor.  Don't let anyone stop you from doing what you want to do.  You never know when today might be your last day.

Honoring your horse

It's never easy to say good-bye to a beloved partner, no matter what the circumstances.  I had to say good-bye to Junior over the holiday weekend as he set out for his 30 day trial for purchase in Midland. 


Junior has been my good little egg for the last two years.  In  a lot of ways I trusted him more than Chance. In 2 years of owning him, he had never bucked, spooked or even so much as snorted under saddle.  I did make one bad choice for him that ended me up in the dirt (and because of my condition, the ER) but aside from that, Junior was rock solid.


Junior was the reason why I started #reasonableredheads.  He was quiet, polite, easy, had a work ethic like no other and always wanted to do his best.  When I got him, through one of the strangest transactions of all time, I knew he was a special kid.  I debated keeping him, I debated selling him.  I moved with him a few times and finally landed at a good place we were all happy with.  As time wore on though it became increasingly more obvious to me that if Junior was going to become whatever it was the Junior was meant to become, it wouldn't be with me.


I did have a great trainer riding him for me (Rene Mathews, she's AWESOME) because I was just tired of having to be out there to ride two.  The responsibility of having two was just wearing me out.  Two sets of shoes, two sets of wormings, two sets of brushings, two sets of mane pulls, two sets of riding, etc....  The list goes on.  In the meantime I could tell Junior wanted a career.


Now mind you I don't think Junior was out there journaling about how mistreated he was.  Day #348 - this lady just doesn't understand I'm meant to show and do some eventing.  I feel my talented is being wasted and I'm being left to rot in this field.  However, as an educated horse woman, I knew that he had something special inside him and I wasn't the one to bring it out.


People always ask me how I 'make' these nice and quiet horses.  I've been asked that for probably the entire time I've been riding.  I don't 'make' anything.  I honor what's already inside of them as a horse.  It's my job to develop that and make them feel confident in their job.  I can't 'make' another Junior anymore than I can 'make' another Chance.  (And God help us all if I did make another Monkey....dear Lord.....) 


I sold Junior to basically the first person who came and tried him that was serious about getting a horse.  I sold Mavs to the first person who came to look at him.  Is it good luck?  Or just good horses?  Or just only allowing someone who is truly a fit to try them?  I'm not sure.  What I do know is that selling Mavs was easy (I had him 45 days) and selling Junior was not. 


What softens the blow is to know that one time, years ago, a nice lady sold me a big chestnut horse beyond their means because they fell in love.  I feel I've repaid the favor in kind with Junior (who is now Hamilton) to another lady who fell in love with him.  And he with her. He was a good sort, and he worked for everyone, but he didn't TRUST everyone.  He trusted her within a few minutes and gave her his heart on their trial ride. 


While he's not officially sold as he's on trial, I can't see anything that would prevent this from being a done deal.  In the meantime I know he's in great hands with Olivia Cliver at On The Mark as his trainer for his new owner.  I can keep tabs.  I can know how he's doing.  Something I wouldn't get as much of with anyone else.  I'm also not sure I would've trusted anyone else with him for so long.


While this chapter closes, another continues.  I'll have more time to spend with Chance and Chance only.  Maybe we'll go to a horse show or two (stop laughing people, I go to one per year!), go do some trail riding and start taking lessons again.  In the meantime I've been offered rides on some young horses not far away that need help being honored along their journey to their next homes and satisfying my need to do that job as long as I can.


So see you around Junior/Hamilton.  You were my good little egg and now you're someone else's good little egg too.  I'll see you in about a year when I have to go back to judge the HIPEC year-end show! 

NHRA Saved my relationship

Three years ago today, Bob and I were at the drag races.


Two years ago today, I was laid out on the operating table having what can only be called a life changing surgery.  I had a full hysterectomy but thanks to what my friend calls "medical bingo" I had a terrible case and had to have a vertical incision.  I was in the hospital for 5 days and lost about 15 pounds.


And because of the medical bingo, when I got out I was thrown into instant (and full) menopause without any support.  I was given a variety of natural replacements but nothing was really helping with the hormone loss.  I gained a significant amount of weight.  My brain was in a constant tail spin.  Every day was pretty much a struggle to just keep my sanity together.


To couple with this catastrophic loss, I was promoted at work.  For years I had worked to get to where I was promoted to and I was extremely excited.  I had my own properties now.  I was now in charge.  What I wasn't counting on was the incredible amount of stress I had put on me.  We had a full lobby renovation, complete with asbestos abatement to do.  Several tenant finish-outs.  We had almost every single floor of the building under construction.  Every day was a struggle to keep tenants happy, money flowing to vendors, issues to be answered and handled on the spot, personnel to manage and another off-site property that required attention.  I was stretched to the limit.


I quickly became overwhelmed between everything I had going on inside my body, inside my head and inside my home.  Bob was suffering his own loss with the sudden and tragic death of his mother.  Needless to say - things weren't going well inside the Hensley/Clarke household. 


In July of 2016 things reached their boiling point and I could no longer hold all the pieces together.  Bob and I took a break.  I couldn't be all things to all people and I couldn't be a good girlfriend anymore.  Bob was dealing with his own loss.  First he lost his mother, then his girlfriend lost her damned mind. 


We had a lot of starts and stops trying to get things back on track.  Did I mention I completely gutted my bathroom and renovated it during all of this too?  God, what was I thinking?  It was the most awful experience too.  I had to shower down at the gym every day.  For anyone who has ever had menopause, the night sweats are for shit.  I had to shower every day so I would wake at 5 am, workout, shower, come home and finish getting ready and then head to work.  Anyway, I digress.


As we tried to work things out, we had one final fight where I felt like we were totally done.  All of his things were out of my house.  I was done.  I couldn't fight at work and fight at home and fight myself to try to be sane anymore so something had to go. 


We didn't speak for about 2 weeks, which for two people who text each other a lot during the day that felt like forever.  This was in October and I knew one thing was looming in front of me that I couldn't attend alone.


NHRA was coming to town. 


Now one thing I've always loved to do was to go to the drags or races of any kind.  Me and my mom had horses together and that was our thing, but my dad and I had the races.  Bob and I had our 'thing' too and NHRA was one of them.  I don't know anyone else who wants to hit the drags, but I didn't want to miss it.


So after 2 weeks of silence I got a text from Bob that just said 'let me take you to the drag races.'  Well, who can say no to that?  As angry as I had been with him, I also didn't want to either miss the drags, or worse, go alone.  I agreed.


We attended the drags that day, and I can't tell you who won but I can say I did.  It was a turning point for Bob and I.  We mended the fences.  We got back together.  He moved back in and while I can't say we haven't fought since, our relationship has been in a much better place.  Sometimes you have to go through some really bad rough patches to get to the better on the other side and we sure have.


I love you baby.  You're the best. 


And you'll see us together on October 15th at the drags!

That lovin' feeling

Ah you're welcome for the earwig people.

I don't know why, but lately I've just kind of lost that loving feeling for jumping.  I mean, I"m cool with the riding portion of it.  I still love to tranter Chance around with the best of them.  But Junior?  Poor buddy.  He's really ready for the next step and I'm really ready for a nap.  I feel like we're one of those May/December romances.  He's hitting his stride, and I just want to hit the easy chair.

I have been debating just leasing him out for a bit to figure out what I want to do.  Frankly, I'm just tired.  Maybe it's the strain of moving so many times.  Maybe it's the stress of work.  Maybe I'm just getting fucking old and I'm ready to be done (ish).  I could be pretty happy to show up, stuff my horse full of treats, flop around the ring for about 20-30 minutes, stuff them full of more treats and hang out.  The thought of actually WORKING for any of this is more than I can take.

And like today, I would've LOVED to have gone and seen them but the reality is that it was an hour and a half to get there of heavy traffic driving.  I just don't think I can take it.  I want them closer, but I also want them to have great turnout and a nice place to ride.  I kind of really don't even care if it's a field.

I really don't know where to go from here.  I don't really feel like taking lessons.  I don't feel like jumping.  I don't want to be a dressage rider (hello, that's work too).  So I'm stuck.....

Waxing Nostalgic - Don't drink the water

Every year around this time I start to wax nostalgic.  This time in 2014 one of my closest friends was recently released from the hospital suffering from an almost fatal battle with sepsis.  It was a tense time for all of us who cared for her to watch her suffer and be so sickly.  She was finally out, things were going well and I kept being thankful every day for my healthy state.

I just kept remembering every time I'd leave the hospital from visiting her that I was so lucky to be healthy and holding out hope that she'd be ok.  Man, I feel so arrogant now to have been like "I"m healthy, I eat (somewhat) right, I work out.  I'm lucky to be so healthy."

What a fucking joke that turned out to be.

Shortly after she was released I started to have some incredibly bad pain in my back on my right side.  True to form, I just ignored it.  I remember calling my best friend Reese on a Friday night thinking I should go to the hospital because the pain was bad and I was having trouble drawing breath.  Instead of going to the hospital I decided, in my infinite wisdom, to go home and take some Aleve and sleep it off.

How you people live with me is beyond my comprehension.

By Monday it was pretty clear something was wrong.  Really wrong.  I was able to get into my doctor and after some fun and exciting CT Scans I was sent home to await my results.  When the results came in, it was a crushing blow because I knew what it meant.  I had blood clots in my lungs.  Again.  According to the doctor who read my results my lungs were 'lit up like a Christmas tree.'

The hospital is about the closest thing we law abiding citizens will ever get to prison.  Thankfully the food is pretty good.

While this wasn't my first rodeo with blood clots, it was probably my worst.  I had been tested 10 years prior from another incident and was told I was 'blood clot free.'  About 5 years later, I had one in my calf.  I was told at that time that it was common to keep getting them after you had them once.  Now I was on to round three, and the chances of this being forever was pretty great.

It was decided after the results of my labs came back. I have Lupus B Antiphosholipid Antibodies Syndrome.  Basically, I have Lupus, but in my blood stream.  There's no cure.  The only answer is thinners, Coumadin (Warfarin to be exact) for the rest of my life.

Forever.

It's a pretty long time when you're 40.  And you ride and own horses.  Especially a tricky red head who sometimes gets an opinion as big as his head and decides your feeble equestrian skills need to be taught to you in the dirt.  Quitting riding isn't an option.  Selling Chance isn't an option.  Retiring Chance isn't an option either.  Honestly, that never even entered my mind.

So how did I end up here?  How did I end up with this somewhat rare blood disease?  The answer is pretty simple.

Tap water.

If you've ever watched that movie Erin Brokovich then you know the story of PG&E poisoning the tap water in Hinkley.  What they movie leaves out is quite a sizable gap.  No pretty, foul mouthed former beauty queen ever knocked on my door and asked me (or my family) to join a lawsuit.  She never asked a representative from the company what my blood condition was worth.  I can tell you what we got from that huge lawsuit.

Not a fucking dime.

And now all of the money is gone, but the people who didn't get financial compensation remain.  Don't be fooled by her amazing story.  Did she help some folks?  Sure.  Did she help everyone?  No.  My father lived in Hinkley pretty much his entire life.  He's got blood clots along with a list of other health issues.  My mom lived in Hinkley.  She's got plenty of health issues.  Nobody asked us what our suffering was worth.

To be clear, here's a list of the issues I have that I have lived through:

1.  Mitral Valve Prolapse
2.  Varicose Veins
3.  Blood disorder
4.  Full hysterectomy
5.  Loss of 3/4 of my thyroid

So next time you watch the movie and think wow she really helped those people, she didn't help us all.

That's why every time around April I get a little resentful and a little pissed off.  I've lost a lot and gotten not much in return.  I keep moving forward because it's the only option but every now and again I have to look back and have a day or two of anger and then pick up and carry on.  I joke a lot about that I'm angry about something until I'm not angry about it anymore.  There's no real time frame for that.  I think on some level I'll be angry about this forever, just better on some days rather than others.

For those of you that read this, my life should be back to normal next week and my blog posts can be more about my two reasonable red heads who cart my ass around versus my personal bitching and moaning.  Stay tuned for that.......

No apologies

Is he just not the most glorious animal God ever put on this great green earth?  Look at how handsome he is.  The love of my life.  My pony.  My number one.  The one who tolerates my BS no matter what.

Wait, what was this blog about again?  Sorry, I got distracted by my handsome four legged man.

So this blog is about the move.  Yeah.  The move.  So I learned a few things about this move.

1.  I need my own truck and trailer.
2.  I am a control freak, but when I control shit, shit gets done.
3.  My horses are spoiled, but they are spoiled because they know when to act the fuck right and when to be spoiled rotten monsters.  You can be spoiled when you have manners.
4.  While I have amazing 4 legged men, I have one amazing 2 legged one too.
5.  I'm done apologizing for asking for things when it comes to my horses because I don't pay more board than someone else.
6.  Finally - and most importantly - my kids come first.

The move was probably one of the hardest things I've done in the 15 years I've been here in Texas.  I can only compare it to when I moved from Nevada to Dallas.  I knew that it had to happen in order to move ahead, but it was hard leaving the life I knew, and loved, behind.  And to make things worse, I was beholding to someone else to help me with this move.

As a tragically independent woman (thanks Mom and Dad!), it's hard for me to ask for help.  So best believe when I ask, I really need it.  I don't take it lightly and I don't do it easily.  Adding to that being a control freak, it's doubly hard for me to deal with asking for help and having to wait for it.

They say that good things come to those that wait (all the while developing an ulcer) and this time they weren't wrong.  My friend Amy had agreed to help and while it took her some time to get there, through no fault of her own, her help was instrumental in me keeping what was left of my nerve and patience.  She grabbed a lead rope, led my youngster on board to her trailer and he didn't even bat an eyelash.  Junior earned his right to be spoiled in that moment.  Of course, I never worry about Chance.  Both horses stood stock still on the trailer for about 20 minutes until we were ready to go.

We finally got everyone moved over and my boys, naturally, were saints.  I did feel like a terrible mom.  I feel more horses have been hungry for quite some time.  They had no interest in their grain when they had a choice of hay, grass and grain.  They would alternate monster mouthfuls of hay, and then grass, then hay, then grass.....  Yesterday was their first day out and Chance seems very unsettled.  I'm hopeful that when I go see them tomorrow that he will have settled better and be ready to go back to work.  Junior in the meantime has slipped a shoe and will get more time off.

I do find that I'm done trying to be the 'low drama' and 'no demands' boarder.  While that doesn't mean I get to make a long list of things I want, it also means I'm done apologizing for wanting things.  I'm paying for a service that we agreed to when I moved in.  I don't have many demands.  Separate my horses to feed.  Blanket my horses when it's cold enough.  I don't feel I'm asking anyone for more than they want to give.

While this drive is incredibly long, I do feel pretty confident about the place. I get to be with Courtney again (yeah!) and the man who takes care of the horses seems like a nice guy.  I was watching him blanket another horse and he took great care to make sure everything was properly placed.  And then talked to the horse and gave him some pets on the nose.  I hear he already had a fondness for Chance and how he's 'like a big dog'.  That's my monkey.  Making people love him one pet at a time.....

Goldilocks - Barn Shopping Edition

*sigh*

Boarding barn shopping.  Where's the emoticon of me blowing my brains just right on out?  And let's be honest.  WHY ARE HORSE PEOPLE SO DAMNED CRAY? 

So here we are.  Two, somewhat normal, ladies looking for a boarding barn.  We're not asking for much (are we?).  We've got 5 horses between us.  All we want is pasture boarding, and one solitary boarding for an aged old man who needs mush.  How hard could this be?

How hard indeed......

The first barn people seemed to be as about normal as you're going to get when it comes to horse folks.  Thankfully a good friend boards there and can vouch for their sanity.  They are FAR for me, but they have 39 acres for turn out.  A massive lit outdoor ring.  We can't leave jumps up but they have enough bells and whistles to make the drive worthwhile.  But they are also hesitant to put 4 more horses on their acreage. 

Barn two.  Well.  We won't talk about that one long because I'm afraid that I'll contract hepatitis C just thinking about it again.  It COULD'VE been nice but.....  It was overgrazed.  The barns were filthy.  The place was ill-kept.  The lady was well intentioned but after the third barnyard animal came up to use that looked like it was on it's last legs we thanked her kindly for her time and split.  I'm sure the horses are well cared for.  She's that kind of crazy that puts the horses first, but maybe cleaning not so much.  You know there's an issue when there's a HORRIFIC smell and it's not horse urine......

Barn three I have NEVER heard a bad thing about which let's face it, its a miracle.  The barns are nice.  Place is clean.  But talk about over crowded.  The owners are maybe the nicest folks I've ever met in my entire life.  They agreed that it was maybe not a fit for us, but gave us the number to barn number four.

Ah barn four lady.  So nice.  So crazy.  So nice.  So nice and crazy.  She's built a MASSIVE cedar barn.  MASSIVE.  No expense spared.  It's the kind of thing only can only dream about.  And maybe don't see here in Texas.  While I'm pretty sure she's willing to accommodate our level of insanity, I'm not sure I can accommodate hers.  She asked what time we normally ride.  Said she'd have to 'think it over' to have us there past 9 pm.  Look, I live around an hour away.  I have a regular job.  It's gonna take me time to get there, then time to ride then time to go.  I may be there past nine.  And I honestly don't want to feel like I'm scheduled to see my own horses.  We thanked her kindly for her time and split.

Maybe it's because I was fighting off an illness.  Maybe I'm just too old for this shit.  We went with Barn #1.  I'll deal with the drive.  The owners seemed nice.  They'd do what we wanted as far as feeding goes.  DONE.  Nice?  Not totally nucking futs?  Will feed my feed?  Fuck.  Done. 

We move next weekend.