Regards from Errol in Queensland Australia
-----Original Message-----
From: SS14U2(AT)aol.com <SS14U2(AT)aol.com>
To: tmic-list(AT)eskimo.com <tmic-list(AT)eskimo.com>
Cc: Jennapause(AT)aol.com <Jennapause(AT)aol.com>
Date: Friday, 23 October, 1998 4:03 PM
Subject: All Because of a Horse & Never Giving Up
>This story proves that the outside of a horse is good for the inside of
man.
>Enjoy!! (Especially Jenny) From Suzi in Seattle
>
>
> SADDLE THERAPY
>
> One morning, as I lay in bed, I watched sparrows peck at the feeder
>outside my window, then flap their wings and soar away. Stricken with MS,
a
>disease that destroys muscle control, I could barely lift my head.
>I wish I could fly away with you, I thought sadly. At thirty-nine, it
seemed
>my joy-filled life was gone.
> I've always loved the outdoors. My husband, Dan, and I had loved to
>take long walks near our home in Colorado Springs. But some time in my
mid-
>twenties, my joints began to ache after our hikes. I thought it was just
sore
>muscles.
> Motherhood, a dream fulfilled with the adoption of Jenny, eleven, and
>Becky, thirteen, made me jubilant. But as eager as I was to be a great
mom, I
>would just flop on the couch after work as a recreational therapist, too
tired
>to help the girls with homework. I figured it was just exhausting being a
>working mom.
> Then one morning I tried to reach for the coffeepot & couldn't; my arm
>was numb. What's happening? I thought in alarm. One doctor prescribed
>a pain reliever for bursitis. Another diagnosed tendonitis.
> Then one day I was out walking with my daughters when my legs buckled.
>Mom, what's wrong with you, frightened Becky asked.
> "I must really be tired," I joked, not wanting to upset the girls.
But
>now I was deeply worried. At Dan's urging, I saw a neurologist.
> "You have multiple sclerosis", he told me. All I could think of was
a
>slogan I once heard, "MS-crippler of young adults" Please no! I
anguished.
>Blinking back tears I asked," How bad will it get?"
> "We can't say for sure," he said gently. "But in time, you may need a
>wheelchair."
> Though Dan tried to console me, that night I lay sleepless. How will I
>care for myself and my family?
> That fearful question echoed in my mind over the next weeks and
months.
>As time passed, I could walk only by using a painful process of locking a
knee
>and forcing the stiff leg forward with my hip muscle. Then
>at other times, my legs grew numb, refusing to respond at all. I steadily
>lost control of my hands, until I could barely make my fingers work.
> "It's ok, Mom, we can help," the girls would say. And they did.
> But I wanted to be caring for them. Instead, I could barely get
dressed
>and wash a few dishes in the morning before collapsing, exhausted, into
bed.
> The morning when I lay watching the birds, wishing I, too, could fly
>away, my heart felt heavy. Hope was dying in me.
> Then I saw Dan come in, his eyes alight. "Honey", Dan said, "I heard
>something amazing on the radio." A nearby stable was offering something
called
>therapeutic horseback riding. The technique reportedly helped with many
>ailments, including MS. "I think you should give it a try", he said.
> Riding as therapy? It sounded impossible. Still, as a child, in
Iowa,
>I
>loved to ride. And even if it just gets me out of bed, it'd be worth it.
> "I'm gonna fall on my face," I joked a few days later, as Dan
helped
>me struggle on canes to the stables. I needed help getting on the horse,
but
>as I gripped the reins and began circling the riding arena, my body
>relaxed.
> "This is great", I exulted. When my ride was over, I told Dan I
couldn't
>wait to try again. Each time I rode,my hips felt looser and my shoulders
>became more relaxed. I knew something was happening. At home, I didn't
feel
>hopeless anymore. I wasn't tired all the time, I realized happily.
> One afternoon, I told the riding-center volunteers I would like to
ride
>bareback, the way I had as a child. As I galloped across the pasture, the
>wind tossing my hair, I thought, For the first time in years, I feel free!
> Then, as Dan helped me off the horse, something seemed different.
>"I can feel my legs again," I gasped to Dan. Dan watched, amazed, as I
>picked up my leg, then easily and smoothly placed it down again.
> It had taken me thirty minutes with two canes to reach the stables
from
>my car. But the return walk took less than three minutes-and Dan carried
the
>canes! "You did it!" he cheered. Tears of joy welled in my eyes.
> Soon after, my daughters came home from college for a visit. I walked
>over and hugged them.
> "Mom, look at you!" Becky cried. With an overflowing heart, I told
them
>how the horses had healed me. My doctors cannot explain why the horse
therapy
>works. All I know is that, somehow, it does.
> Today I remain nearly symptom-free as long as I ride three times a
week.
> Each morning I bundle up and set off on a long, brisk walk.
Breathing
>in the fresh mountain air around my home, I feel a special rush of joy.
I'm
>so grateful God has given me back my life.
>