I have really wanted to write about the end of 2020, but I felt I couldn't find the right words to do so. I would run it over in my mind and worry if I could convey it the way I wanted. However, after a year like we all just experienced, I think a little humility and humble admissions right or wrong, should be shared. On November 9th, I was out on a ranch in Harrison, MT Brucellosis vaccinating a good sized group of heifers.. Around noon I noticed my phone had vibrated several times which I thought was odd. I normally don't answer when we are processing groups like that, but I thought it must be important to keep going off. I saw that Maddie had texted me to call the clinic right away. I thought maybe we had an emergency we needed to go to next after the ranch. Phone in hand, I walked back to the next heifer to give her vaccination. As I was administering the shot, I heard Maddie on the other line say that Joe had been in an accident at work and was on his way to hospital. I knew he was riding at the stockyards that day and thought immedately that this couldn't be good. For him to get hurt, a cow had to have pinned him against a fence or knocked him off his horse. Both resulting in pretty extensive injuries either way you look at it. By this point my voice began to shake and everyone knew something was wrong. They stopped the chute for a few minutes so I could call the manager of the yards. She told me he had broken his leg. That was about all the information I got and I thought for sure there was no way that was his only injury. We had about 80 head of heifers left and I didn't feel right just leaving in the middle of a job. We finished the last of the bunch with my stomach in knots. Then, came the excruciating trip back to the clinic. I was able to finally talk to Joe, who was flying high on the moprhine rocket ship that was the ambulance. Three hours later I was anxiously navigating the hospital in muck boots, sweaty long johns and a sweatshirt I borrowed because mine was covered in bright green tattoo paste. To my surprise his only injury was infact his leg, which left me puzzled. Apparently, there was a pretty angry cow that started to really fight in the alley. Unfortunately, she was not bluffing and hit Joe as hard as she could with her skull. Breaking his leg by the shear force of the blow to his leg with her head... yikes. Thankfully, the yard help was able to get him off his horse. It was surreal to see my husband lying in a hopsital bed, despite his positive spirits. It never occured to me until that moment how tall of a creature he really is. His feet nearly hung off the hopsital bed. Ironically, this had never crossed my mind even though my head just barely reaches his shoulders even in heels. Once they got his xrays back, it was clear he broke both bones pretty badly. We were amazed by the radiographs that his bone didn't puncture the skin. I think the thick leather of his cowboy boots supported his leg enough to ensure the bones didn’t come out to visit. The doctor didn't waste any time calling a surgeon in to piece him back together. I gathered his cut clothes, which he assured me would make a fine quilt and followed him back to pre-op. They proceeded to put the tightest compression sock known to man on his opposite leg , hint there was a ziploc bag involved. After that, they had me go wait in the vacant waiting room. Even though he was technically ok, I had alot of worries about the road ahead. I tried to focus on just being thankful his leg was all that was broken. I drank some bad coffee sweating in my muck boots and long johns as I waited impatiently. A few hours later, I walked with him to his hospital room for the night. I remembered I hadn't eaten all day and thought that might be a wise idea. I also recalled I probably didn't want to sleep in my grubby clothes and that Joe might want some non cut up pants for the ride home. Joe's parents thankfully got a hotel room in Bozeman and I was able to go there for the best Dominoes pizza and a clean shirt. Unfortunately with COVID they only allowed one visitor per day so that’s as close as they could get to seeing him. I had planned on staying there to make sure Joe got some rest, but he had a different idea in mind. Joe isn't normally very pressing about anything, but he was pretty adament I stay in the hospital with him. I think the whole ordeal had to be pretty alarming. To grant that request, I slept or tried to anyway in the chair sleeper gently holding his hand. I woke up with a need for coffee and an appreciation I did not indeed sleep in my smelly long johns. The next day we had alot of waiting to do for all of the discharge instructions and so on. During that time, I had to figure out the stuff I was worried about the night before. We were currently living in a camper while everything was in the process of getting started at our land. Unfortunately, campers and cripples don't mix, and Joe was the one who was going to put up the quonset we were going to park the camper in for the winter So not only was I worried about his care in general, I had to figure out a different place entirely for us to live in a small time frame. By us that included two people, a trailer load of horses, four dogs, and six puppies... no pressure right? Joe went with his parents as we left the hospital because quite honestly I had nowhere to take him. That event alone killed me. I like to think I was pretty rational the entire time after learning of his injury until that moment. I think I cried all the way until I reached Three Forks, about 45 minutes away. I have never felt so ashamed or helpless. I knew that it was not my fault and I could not have forseen an accident in the middle of a construction project. Regardless, the weight of it all punched me in the gut. I felt like a failure as a wife that I couldn't take him home and take care of him. I went back to the camper alone, and with a building list of unknowns Upon my arrival at the camper, I was met with a broken pull start on the generator. No biggie I thought, I’ve got propane at least for the stove and the heater. I baked my Dino nuggets to perfection and drank some leftover boxed wine while my mom kept me company over the phone. Shortly after my five star meal, the propane for the camper ran out. Not really having the energy to grasp what was going on, I crawled into my sleeping bag in a humble defeat. I’ll try again tomorrow I thought, one day at a time.. The next day I knew that not only did I have the bare minimum of feeding myself and the animals, but I needed to take care of everything Joe had planned on doing this fall as well. First on the list was hauling all of the horses back to the ranch because we were currently hauling water waiting for the well driller. I could fit six of them in the trailer, so I left two of my horses at the land. I figured I could haul enough water for them. The three hour drive to Dell got to be routine. Pulling all of their shoes was most definately not, and I felt it. I was not a good farrier by any means and that was a drinking from the fire hose situation of just having to buckle down and do it. Over the next week, I stayed up until midnight most nights getting things done at the land to get it taken care of and even getting up at four to go do things before work. I had two horses, four dogs, and six tiny puppies to look after, not including everything else. Thankfully Jessie and Jasper let me stay at their place so I could abandon the increasingly frigid camper. I was beginning to think I was out of luck finding a place to live on such short notice with another human, dogs, and a few horses but someone was watching out for us. The ranch that Joe night calves for offered a room in their bunkhouse and we knew that would be it. I had a hard time accepting it at first because I hated to be so low we needed help. On the same token. I knew that the help offered came from their hearts and that we would have some of our best friends next door. I don't think it hurt that our prescense brought the addition of six fuzzy puppies and lots of coffee with it. You would think that after situating everything there I'd have it all figured out right? Well in the process of moving I ended up having one of the busiest weeks at work along with all of my animals still needing me. I had to figure out how to get to our land once a day, move, winterize the camper, haul water to the horses, and so on while having a 60+ hour work week. Through this I had a new appreciation for gas station tornados extra ranch, and bunkhouse burgers. Saying those things out load doesn't sound so bad, but it the midst of it all if it could go wrong, it did. I cracked the water tank unloading it and broke it, hit an entire family of deer with the pickup, got a flat tire on the trailer, was late for work one day, and even forgot vaccine to a ranch we went to. Then when I finally had everything situated in our new little room the doubts started to creep in. I knew that I couldn't offer him the care his parents could give him, that the shower was pretty small, and that he had everything he could ever need there. All I had at the bunkhouse was a room, a tv, and mediocre company by me when I got home tired from work. In my own mind it felt like I had something to prove and that what I could provide wasn’t good enough for him to heal the way he deserved. That was most certainly not the case, but that was my mind's way of tricking me. And to top it all off, I did not handle this situation with the grace I had hoped I had stored up for situation like this. I was scared of the unknown , upset about the things I couldn't control, and it showed. In a time where I should have been selfless, I saw some of the most selfish sides of myself. I saw myself push against those trying to help me and the one I was trying to help the most. I did not always do the right thing and I know I may have unintentionally done things that raised some eyebrows. I found out quickly I am not superwoman and everyone has a breaking point. I was so focused on the things at hand that I tore myself down if I didn't accomplish that list I had in my mind for the day. I found it hard to communicate what I was going through without sounding like I was complaining.
My motto became one day at a time, do the best you can for that day and whatever else waits for tomorrow. 95% of the time I could keep my thoughts positive, but during the 5% of the time when I truly needed someone to talk to, I was often told I need a better or more positive attitude. Honestly that was one of the most hurtful things for me to hear despite the well wishes behind them. I didn't want someone to tell me how I should be feeling when I was trying so hard not to falll apart. I needed someone to help me through that 5% and not judge me for not being ok. I lost quite a bit of weight because I was so focused on what needed to be done that I ignored the small things I needed myself to keep me going. If there is anything I have learned from this exprience, is that it is totally ok to not be ok sometimes. Ignore the pride you have within yourself, and accept when others offer to support you. Concentrate on what you accomplished not what you should have. Most of all, find someone to talk to that will make sure you keep your wits about you. It’s easy in the midst of trying so hard to care for others to let yourself down. You can’t help another person if you yourself aren’t healthy mentally or physically. Whatever ordeal you weather, may it be a not so bluffing cow, pandemic, injury, or other life altering event, remember that you are doing far better than you give yourself credit for and you got this!
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AuthorThis is a blog to share many stories, laughs, adventures and lessons learned by yours truly, Haley Potter. Archives
July 2023
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