I have since then watched the unedited video of my fall. I saw part of it by accident when sending the video to two kind friends who offered to vet it for me – fellow bloggers Maddi (http://lifeasmaddi.wordpress.com/) and Marie (http://ridewithnoeyes.com/). The fall itself is inoffensive – it’s just a tumble off the right shoulder approaching a gate. Here’s an edited video the video of the last gallop, including the tumble – all fairly straightforward looking, with the video ending as soon as I hit the ground:
(I also have a private link to the unedited one, if people really want to see it; I just didn’t think it was for general public consumption, so didn’t openly list it on YT).
I am still struggling with how this happened though. I am a decisive rider that steers for gates, rather than just hoping for the best. I did not seem worried either – in the unedited footage, there are no exclamations of “Whoa Frankie!”, “Wait!” or “Move over you stubborn wee b*tch!” before the gate; I clearly have every confidence that we’ll make it as it’s plenty wide, we’re not at a stupid speed, and there’s no one around us to crowd us. Some accounts say that Frankie spooked at the gate; I rather think that maybe she just altered her line through the gate by leaping to her left rather than smoothly moving over, and given I was in the light seat, was particularly susceptible to of coming off her right shoulder. In fact, without the fence post in my way, I’m sure I would have remained conscious and sprung to my feet and out of the way of on-coming riders!
Watching the unedited video also made me realise that I did remember this final gallop after all! I would have sworn blind that it was the first canter after the 2nd break however, rather than the first gallop after the 3rd break. I can recall a stranger telling me before we started that it was a bit uneven at points, and I thanked her for letting me know. I also remember that I started the gallop with Hugo, and I mind moving to the left on the flat section. I also recall moving right onto the uphill which had a bend, and Frankie tripped a little both on the way up, and when we were going downhill towards the gate on the right. In fact, it was the only downhill gradient that I felt a little uncomfortable in all day; Frankie’s tripping, knowing she’d a loose front shoe, and my tired ankle meant that I didn’t enjoy it, but I do remember telling the voice in my head to shut up – I was glued on and all was fine! I don’t remember what happened from about halfway down that slope to the gate though.
What came as a surprise to me was that my breathing when unconscious and the stillness of the camera were definitely the worst parts of watching the footage back. I got to hear just how many people were involved in speaking to me, calling for help, and steadying up the riders behind me too, which was both touching and concerning – I hate to have been so much trouble, and to have worried so many people.
I also now realise just how patchy my memory was even when I came around. I do remember being asked if the responders could put a mask on my face to help me breathe, but I can’t tell you if they actually did or not. As I said in the last entry, I could tell you that I was asked the day of the week, told them I rarely knew at the best of times, but could then give an answer when asked what Common Ride I was doing which solved the mystery for me. I still don’t know how I don’t recall the person asking being The Doc, a guy I hack out with most weekends – he has such a distinctive deep voice. I also loved hearing in the video that one of the first questions they ask me when I come around to make sure I was compus mentus was who I was riding – I was very quick to say Frankie! Clearly she’s thoroughly unforgettable ;)
I also remember giving my name for their paperwork (“Debra, spelt as in zebra”) but not my address. I don’t remember any of the yard folk being around me, even though Carly asked me who I was riding, and she was the one that picked up and held my hat and camera. It also was either her or the other female groom from my yard that shouted for First Aid, and told the team my name.
I don’t remember the guys saying I needed to move, as I was going to be treated on the field for quite a while, but I remember crawling as I didn’t feel fit to get up and walk. I don’t remember The Doc asking where I would be transferred to, so that he and/or my friend could keep track of me. I remember being told we were going back to town though, and how long it took me to get into the back of the Landy (in a very unladylike fashion) with a completely powerless left leg.
I suppose the video shocked me a bit, because I assumed that once I was conscious again, I was all better; clearly not, as my memory remained patchy. While I remember lots of the conversation I had in the Landy, about my PhD, my allergies, Dad being a paramedic and the like, listening to myself I sound drunk – not as in slurring, but just the level of detail, speed and intonation that often comes along with being merry and casual.
I am happy to report however that my leg is now only about 75% floppy – it is less of a dead weight now, and the time difference between wriggling my left toes and right toes has decreased (but still exists). I now have an ankle support, as my tired ankle from angled stirrups was not helping, so I feel a bit steadier on my feet. I am definitely moving in the right direction, so am still very hopeful that it will be all systems go on Monday for my ‘home’ Common Ride!
I’d also like to take a minute to say thank feck for the current safety standard of riding helmets. I have a Champion Ventair Jockey Skull – even with all that cushioning, I was (and still am) concussed. I have little doubt that without my hat on tightly, or with my hat in improper repair, I would be looking at long term brain damage right now, if not worse. I always wear my hat, I wear it with pride, and I have never loosened the chin strap to look good, despite peer pressure dictating this to be the rebellious fashion. A body protector would have done nothing for me on this occasion I have to say, but that hat was amazing. Please remember that it is always better to have a helmet on and not need it, than to need it and not have it; mine did its job beautifully this week.
So, all in all, I’m doing well – having no recollection of falling and no longer being weirded out by the video mean that I don’t feel as if my confidence has been dented. This theory will require testing by riding a horse again, but I am very much keen to do that, and am currently not afraid. At least this fall comes with an explanation, and with a safe outcome for me, for Frankie, and for all the other horses and riders in the field. Monday’s Common Ride is like no other anyway – you ride in small groups controlled by a riding Marshal that cannot be over-taken, which will make it feel like a really varied hack with lots of pomp and circumstance. This will also be compounded by the fact that the cantering is mostly on tracks, not stubble fields or pasture. In fact, it sounds like the only gallops are the beach and the race course, whereas most Common Rides are more easily counted by how few times you canter instead of gallop. I should also have Abbie, but I would be more than happy with Frankie either; my bond with her feel only deeper now. I got the measure of her quickly on the ride out, and we got along after only one tantrum – that’s a success in my book! So, watch this space – hopefully another Common Riding update will be coming along soon :)
Me and Frankie cantering towards the castle:
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