My Toughest One

Introduction Making the Roughest Ride Smoother This book was written for the woman who is living in what feels like the crisis of caring for a loved one. Whether it is for a parent, spouse, or friend, caregiving is one of the hardest tasks we can have thrust upon us. In what seems like a blink of an eye, we find our consistent daily routine completely upside-down. We are just riding along, taking care of our families as wives, moms, and grandmothers do––mine also included minding a small farm and its critters, and mentoring a group of young horse riders––and then BAM! The chaos of numerous doctors’ visits, upsetting power struggles, fear of the unknown, the endless deluge of information, and unimaginably tough decisions. Along the way, we watch our loved one slip into pure survival mode. Their emotions can become unsteady and behaviors unpredictable. One minute, they can be sweet and compliant; and in the next moment, they can hiss with bitterness, anger, or resentment. The emotional battle can become exhausting––especially if the proper self-care isn’t in place. And as most wives, moms, and grandmas do, we will completely exhaust ourselves before ever looking in the mirror and asking what we need, let alone taking time to give it to ourselves. We become the anchor in the storm. The one who holds all the information, responsibility, security, and stability––the one everyone is counting on to hold them steady––and we become worn, weary, and weathered. We find the wind circling us at rapid speeds and wonder how much longer we can take it. Sometimes, we feel completely invisible and resentful that this heavy load has been put on our shoulders, and wish we could just escape or wake up from the nightmare. How do I know this? Well, let me tell you a story about a horse and a husband. First, the husband. In 2010, my husband of thirty years, Reid, was diagnosed with a fast-growing, terminal brain tumor. We opted for an alternative route to his treatment, which helped prolong his life for nearly five years beyond the doctors’ predictions. This story is about how we did that and what we, mostly I, learned along the way. As I reflect on our story, it’s obvious that my forty years of experience training and rehabilitating horses was one of the key reasons for our success. In fact, as I began looking for the key lessons I wanted to share with you, I could see how closely they reflected the approach I’d discovered for rehabilitating horses––from my initial moments of Assessment of the symptoms, to my willingness to Experiment with Alternative routes, all the way to my commitment to Adjusting to create better outcomes. Thus, the horse. You may be wondering how this book might help a caregiver who doesn’t know a saddle from a sow’s ear, but don’t worry. The story is not about horses, but about how my life with horses prepared me for the challenge of a lifetime and how I used every lesson I’d learned to get through it. I was born horse-crazy. It’s in my blood, and I really don’t think I could exist without my four-legged buddies. And I have no doubts that this caregiving journey with Reid would have been even more nightmarish without the experiences of many wonderful equine friends and teachers. In truth, they all taught me something, but some challenged me to become a better person, and it’s those horses that you’ll meet throughout the book. Tessa and Jack are the standouts in this book, even though I share quick stories of several others throughout the chapters. Let’s start with Tessa, the dark liver chestnut mare with whom I learned a powerful approach to rehabilitation, and developed the muscle and the knowledge base that contributed to Reid’s success for so many years. Tessa was half-Arabian, and her Saddlebred father left nothing of himself visible to the naked eye. Perhaps his only contribution was her temperament, which left much to be desired. She was pretty enough, that is, if you could see past the thin body, the terrified look in her eye, and the miserable expression that consumed her whole body. A feistiness and spirit not yet extinguished still showed in a posture that screamed, “Touch me and you’ll die!” I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to take her on, but it would be almost fifteen years before I was actually enough of a horsewoman to ride her. My initial assessment of Tessa was that though she looked dangerous, she never actually acted on those threats. She didn’t have to because she was very convincing. With her ears pinned to her head, she looked like she would eat you for lunch if you got too close. Everybody was afraid of her.