Jo, Kendyll and I all driving the truck as Lauren, Gaylyn and Ally stack hay.
So in my last post, I whined and complained and felt sorry for myself. As my daddy would have said, “quit whining or I will give you something to whine about!” Things were not that bad, certainly not for me or my family, but I was about to see that they could get a whole lot worse.
On Friday, we had Roland scheduled to do the horse’s hooves. I just wanted a quiet weekend to catch up on some sleep and finish some chores. Lauren had a lesson with Feather and Dev. She hoped to get back home before the worst of the Friday, Memorial Day weekend, traffic started. When I pulled in, I saw the hay was already being baled and thought, oh, no! We had planned on picking up the baled hay Saturday night not Friday. I called my friend Gaylyn and told her of the change of plans. She had not so choice words to say. It was her husband’s birthday and not a great night to pick up hay.
Then I called Ally. She had offered to help with the hay. And I needed the help. With my arm still out of commission, I felt entitled to my daughter’s help. Wish I had just done it myself.
Everything happened at once. Roland got here and started on Feather. Ally, Jo and baby Kendyll showed up at the same time. Then Gaylyn told me she was en route with her trailer. I was not at all sure how we were going to accomplish driving, stacking, and lifting the hay from the field while taking care of Kendyll and holding horses for Roland. As Gaylyn pulled in and announced she was getting 50 bales (we were only getting 20 this time), Roland finished with Feather. He would start on Mickey (who he could do without help) while we went to the field to start on the hay.
In the end, I sat in the driver’s seat with Kendyll on my lap, inadequately trying to hold her and drive with my one arm as the other was strapped down in the sling. Pretty much we idled along and Jordyn “drove” as Ally stood in the trailer stacking the hay that Lauren and Gaylyn were tossing up from the field. To compound our level of frustration was another pick-up truck and trailer in the field with auto lifter, where one person placed the hay on the conveyor belt which lifted it up into the trailer bed. Wow, way better than the manual female labor we had going on. I looked in the rearview mirror at one point and saw Ally standing four bales high on the flat-bed trailer. I said to Jordyn, your momma is going to fall off of there. But I didn’t warn anyone. Not once.
We got (okay, they got) all 70 bales loaded (while the men with conveyor belt probably loaded 200 bales-but whatever). We had made it back up to the barn. Gaylyn backed the trailer to the gate. We were going to offload our 20 bales, so we could get Roland finished and Gaylyn off to her home. I passed Kendyll to Gaylyn to hold as I was trying to get my one-armed self out of the truck. Kendyll didn’t want to come back to me. She was perfectly happy with Gaylyn.
Then, Lauren yelled, “Ally fell, Ally fell!!” In the next few seconds, everything went by in super speed. Gaylyn and I were somehow next to fallen Ally. Baby Kendyll was somehow in Roland’s arms. Ally had fallen at least eight feet from the top of the stacked hay off the hay trailer to the hard ground. Immediately she told us-“My wrist is broken!”
I went and got our truck. Ally and I were off to the hospital. It was apparent by the time we arrived that both of Ally’s arms were hurt. The first thing the ER doc ordered was morphine. Not a good sign.
The x-rays were difficult for Ally to bear. But the doctor came back with the news that nothing was broken. We breathed a big sigh of relief and were almost giddy. They splinted her one wrist and placed her other arm in a sling. I still had on my sling. We looked like refugees of a bad place or a bad night.
Slings and Splints.
It was a bad night for me and a horrible night for Ally. I decided to just sleep in the room alongside my daughter (for probably the first time in at least 12 years). I was afraid she would need something and not be able to reach it without use of either arm. Throughout the long night, a hundred times Ally wondered aloud about why her arm hurt so much. I am always skeptical of ER x-ray reads, but figured they could read a fracture in such large bones. I do not think either of us slept more than 30 minutes at time. We did get a chance to have some great talks as the night slowly moved along. I am grateful for that.
This morning the ER called back to report the arm in the sling was fractured, just an inch or so below the elbow. Lauren took her sister back to the hospital as I stayed with both young girls.
We are scheduled to take a trip of a lifetime to Hawaii in less than two weeks. All my girls, all the family, the grandkids, Blake and his mother are all coming along for this long-saved for, long anticipated trip. Ally will be in a cast. Maybe in two casts. It will not be what we hoped. Neither Ally or I will be swimming in the gentle Maui seas.
Luke is headed home from his heroic Oklahoma recovery trip to a wife with a broken arm and no use of her sprained arm. He will be exhausted. A 11 month old baby slows down for no one.
Ally is still in a crazy amount of pain. I will be calling the hospital back soon if she does not start to get some relief. We are all blurry eyed and exhausted. And sad and disappointed. Guess as my dad said, we have something to whine about now!
Please keep Ally and her family in your prayers!
p.s. Big shout of thanks to Gaylyn and Roland. They both jumped in feet first to take care of my grandkids and my daughter. Roland, with no good reason than his innate good manners, helped stack all the hay. The pony Pixie was still left to do and Lauren held Kendyll, the pony’s leadrope and some alfalfa as Roland completed her feet. We are blessed for our great friends and family.
Exechorseluver 