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Never Ride a Horse Named Ironman

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Thursday, February 25, 2021

It was Mother’s Day—1982. We lived in the country. One day my friend, Bonnie called and asked if I would like to join her and Vicky to go horseback riding. Why not? Seemed like a great idea---until ....

Since it was a warm day, I wore a thin halter top—with a bare back. Next Bonnie said, “I will even let you ride my horse, Ironman.”

I did not want to sound like a pansy-so I said, “Sure I can ride Ironman.” (no problem)
We took off on country roads, with both friends behind me. Vicky held my 14 month old baby securely, so it seemed things were alright. Nothing to worry about. Life is good.

After an hour or so the sun beat down on us and I noticed Ironman sweating and acting restless. I almost motioned to my friends we were going to head back, yet I hesitated.

Suddenly Ironman bolted! He had had enough! He gave me fair warning, but I was not listening! He took off like lightening and galloped as fast as he could to a main road that would take him home!

I could hear my friends screaming from behind! As he headed for traffic, all I could think of was, “I am not ready to die—besides my baby is right behind me! I can’t leave her motherless!”

All I could hear was the pounding of Ironman’s hoofbeats and him breathing heavy as he turned a sharp corner onto the highway. When he turned west, i went east, I was thrown off and splattered on the hard pavement! I remember hearing my head make a loud thud, and I could see and hear cars coming! One woman riding with her husband said, “Look! There is someone laying on the road!” Her husband abruptly slammed on the breaks before running over me and stopped.

They immediately called an ambulance that came from many miles away. Hitting the pavement as I did literally peeled all the skin from my bare back, leaving it raw and bleeding!
The ambulance arrived, whisked me off to town where I was taken via stretcher to the emergency room. That was not the end of it. The ER physician ordered a nurse to scrub my back with an antiseptic, but she neglected to numb my back first. I immediately screamed bloody murder. The doctor ran back in and yelled at her. “Did you not anesthetize her back first?”

Moral of the story: That still small voice within may be little but powerful enough to save ourselves from great danger.

I am most thankful to be alive. And I still love the country and horses, but next time I will be sure to ride Buttercup! lol .
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