By HANNAH ARINGTON
As a lifelong horseman and respected trainer, my father often says, “It’s not if we fall off, but when.” Ride horses often and long enough and it’s going to happen, right?
I don’t fall off THAT much as far as adult amateurs go (or at least that’s what I tell myself in order to sleep at night!), but it happens from time to time. About once a year, my daily ride takes an unexpected break in the form of a spook that I can’t sit or a buck that catches me off guard. I’d wear a helmet for ages, replace them after impact, and thought I was doing my part to stay safe.
That is, until, in my infinite grace, I took an unremarkable spill off a horse who spun away from the unchanged–but occasionally terrifying–corner of the indoor arena. My left side felt bruised, but I hadn’t hit my head and felt okay, just annoyed. After re-mounting, the corner of the ring was no longer terrifying; we trotted around uneventfully.
Shortly thereafter, I started to feel nauseous. However, it was lunchtime, and my blood sugar is historically finicky, so this didn’t seem surprising. Having worked through the horse’s lapse of judgment and waylaid my irritation, I dismounted and walked over to the tack area to grab a sandwich.
As I was sliding the bridle over the horse’s ears, something changed, and I blacked out HARD. I woke up flat on my back in the sand, feeling groggy and dry-mouthed as if I’d just taken one of those peaceful naps where it’s hard to face reality afterward. I eventually remembered current events, becoming irritated that I’d collapsed prior to securing the halter!
What if that horse had wandered off and got into trouble?!?! I reprimanded, then hauled myself upright in aggravation.
At that point, things got a little muddled, but I suspect I passed out again from standing up too fast. When I came back to my senses a second time, I decided the horse could fend for itself and crawled over to the stool next to my tack locker.
My phone was sitting on the stool, so I started calling people to come put the horse away. I called my mom, a surgeon who reliably answers her phone due to years of being on-call from the hospital: “Hey mom, I think I cracked some ribs and I passed out. Can you come help?”
Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that she was in town for a Sunday lunch and nowhere near the barn. She asked me a couple of questions about where the pain was and said, “Honey, I think you ruptured your spleen. You need to go to the ER. Let me call an ambulance.”
Unconvinced that an ambulance was fully necessary at that time, I proceeded to hit the speakerphone button and said, “I think I can make it to the house. If you hear a thump, call them”. I made it the quarter-mile to my parent’s house, shoved the door open, and mumbled as loud as possible while gripping my side: “Hey Dad, I need to go to the hospital. But you need to put the horse away first!”
Being well accustomed to my temperament, he made sure I was deposited safely in a chair, then ran outside and put the horse away, only to be greeted on his return with my sand-crusted, messy-haired, grouchy demand: “Did you put my new saddle on the rack? It better not be scratched!”.
Meanwhile, my mother, the Chief Medical Officer at the hospital, had issued instructions to my father for going to the ER, and was on her way to meet us there. Once I was in the hospital bed sitting still, I didn’t feel too bad. Dad was concerned, which he entertainingly coped with by telling everyone my mother’s job title and that she’d be there soon. The staff doctors and nurses were fantastic and started administering IV fluids as well as conducting numerous tests.
I had no indication of head trauma or concussion, which I 100% believe can be attributed to my helmet with MIPS technology. Remarkable, considering I hit the ground once falling off and twice passing out!
When they examined my abdominal imaging, the ribs were alright, but the spleen had a large rupture, and my abdomen was filling with blood. As the blood accumulated, I started having shoulder pain. Mom explained that abdominal trauma can irritate the phrenic nerve running down the left side of the body and cause referred pain at a location separate from the actual injury.
Fortunately, splenic ruptures often stop bleeding without surgical intervention, and the medical team was able to put me under close observation in the ICU for 4 days. As I was sitting there in the hospital watching sitcoms, it occurred to me that:
A) Nobody was going to let me back on a horse for quite a while
B) What the heck is a spleen for, anyway? And…
C) A body protector would have covered the upper abdomen and likely mitigated or even prevented this injury.
I’d worn a vest as a child learning to jump but had outgrown it and never bothered to purchase a replacement. Sitting there in the hospital, I began researching safety-certified designs with maximized rider comfort. After narrowly avoiding major surgery, I was determined to be safe; My spleen would take a long time to fully heal, and couldn’t handle any further trauma.
It’s been two years since I started wearing a traditional body protector, and I plan to continue to do so for every ride. Personally, as a firm believer in learning from my mistakes, it’s not worth the risk to go without. While many people promote their use enthusiastically, some stigma remains over their “look,” especially in the traditional hunter ring. However, it’s encouraging to see riders at all levels of competition choose this additional safety feature.
As an amateur with a limited budget who attends mostly local, non-rated shows, I was extremely proud to have a parent approach me recently and say, “I’m so happy you’re wearing a vest in the hunters as an example to the younger riders! My daughter wears one at home but was worried it wouldn’t look nice in the ring.”
This was a submission to the 2024 Equestrian Voices Creative Writing Contest sponsored by The Plaid Horse. The goal of the contest is to promote fine, literary prose involving horses and the equestrian experience. This contest is open to writers of fiction and non-fiction, regardless of any previous publications, and awards 16 prizes. To learn more about the 2024 contest click here.
