Playing Nurse

Eddie got his cast off on Friday…and then got it back on again. That was planned, actually. Even though it's been six weeks since he fractured his coffin bone our vet Ron felt it best we try and keep the joint as immobile as possible for as long as possible since the fracture line extends into the joint. Good thing the cast came off when it did. There were rub spots on the bulbs of his heel that were bleeding. Despite the fact that they are superficial, they needed bandaging and tending. Unfortunately, that also meant the cast couldn't go back on the same way, keeping the joint as still as possible.

Eddie was really good about the whole process -- except he itched. A lot. He doesn't scratch his legs like most horses -- with his teeth -- he crosses one leg over the other and rubs. We each took turns scratching his pastern (the part of his leg just above the hoof) until he seemed satisfied. I know how "cast itch" feels, having had to wear one on my arm several years ago. I used to stick a knitting needle between my arm and cast to deal with it. My doctor wasn't amused, as I recall.

Nevertheless, the reapplication process of the cast went well. Ron wasn't particularly worried that Eddie is still doing some limping. He gave me an assignment; change the bandage over the rub wound every three or four days. Then he gave me detailed instructions.

No problem.

Right.

The first bandage change was yesterday. I cut the old bandage away, and that's when the challenging part began. Yeah, the rub spots looked icky, but they weren't stinky or painful. What they were was itchy.

The next half hour progressed with me scrambling to clean and redress the wound, hollering "Whoa" and "Whoa, dammit," and flinging supplies around the barn aisle-way to keep them out of the way. Eddie ended up with half a tube of Neosporin smeared down the front of his opposite leg and a foot bandaged. I'm not even sure it was the correct foot.

What a freaking disaster.

Fortunately my friend Stacey, who owns the barn, dropped me an email later and told me that not only had I managed to bandage the correct foot, but it was still in place. I don't know how that happened.

And to think I have to do this again in three more days. 

Bandages & Friendship

Poor Eddie. This weekend didn't turn out quite the way he planned. He was having himself a good 'ol time kicking up his heels in his paddock, but took a misstep and wrenched his front right shoe off. Unfortunately, he also did some damage to himself, the precise nature of which has yet to be determined. For the moment, we're just calling him three-legged lame.

Eddie, bless his heart, has been relatively injury free -- for a horse. They tend to be rather delicate creatures, especially for as big as they are. In my opinion, if someone tells you they're "healthy as a horse" you need to be on your way to the phone to call for help. Horses have a talent for hurting themselves regardless of the precautions you take to protect them.

But I'm used to lame horses, albeit a bit out of practice. I've owned horses who have made careers out of creatively injuring themselves. One big chestnut Thoroughbred gelding I owned for most of his twenty-six years wasn't an accident waiting to happen, he was an accident that continually happened. It got so people were thinking I had a "thing" for my vet. I was thinking maybe my vet ought to issue those cards like espresso stands have where after so many cups of coffee you get one free. It was the horse and I who bonded over those many hours of fellowship over salves, bandages, cold hosing, and prescription meds.

Something special happens when you help an animal through the tough times. A connection is born that wouldn't have existed otherwise. The quiet time you spend together doing the things that need to be done to get past the crisis creates a bridge of companionship that endures. Tomorrow morning I'll drive up to the barn, give Eddie his meds, rewrap his legs and brush his burgeoning winter coat while he stands quietly in his stall without his halter on. We'll have a little chat and he'll spend some time licking me--his way of doing something for me.

With any luck, he'll feel lots better and in a week or so we'll be able to get back to some light work. In the meantime we'll get to know each other on a different level.