Gees! What a ride!

I thought I was dead.

When I woke again, I couldn’t breathe. I was terrified.

I had just come out of surgery.

I remember my family being there—Mum, my older sister, my nan, and other family members who came to visit. My friends wanted to come, but I was horrified at how I looked, how would they react???

Dad also came with my little sister. It was obvious he was angry. I later found out he hadn’t been notified about the accident, and he made sure everyone knew how upset he was about that.

I pleaded with him to let my little sister stay with us, with me, but he refused. I could see the fear in her face, and all I wanted was the chance to reassure her that I was going to be okay. I wanted her to stay.

Instead, she had to leave with tears in her eyes. Dad’s anger, pride and hurt took priority over what either of us needed in that moment, and that is something I have never forgotten.

I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. At the time, I assumed it was the medication. Looking back now, I’m not so sure.

I now believe it was the head injury.

My teeth were broken, making it incredibly difficult and very painful to eat. My face was so swollen that the first time I looked in the mirror, I didn’t recognise myself, I was horrified. Stitches covered my face, both eyes were black, and the whites of my eyes were completely blood red.

After removing the giant tampons from my nose (honestly, I was freaked out at how long those things were!!!! GROSS!!), four days in hospital, I was discharged.

I still remember the doctor explaining just how lucky I was. A little further to one side and I would have been blind. A little higher and I would have been dead.

It’s fascinating how the brain protects us from trauma. I don’t remember anything, not the accident, not the ambulance or van and only parts of the day leading to surgery. Bizarre!

Only later did I learn what had actually happened.

The horses had bucked or jumped—something unexpected. I fell off forward, and the horse I was riding tried to jump over me. Unfortunately, I became tangled in the reins, and the horse stood on my face.

I have no memory of any of that.

I was transported to the ambulance station in the back of the trainer’s van before being transferred by ambulance to hospital.

Apparently, I was aggressive and desperately wanted to blow my nose. The problem was… my nose was hanging off to one side. There was a gaping hole where my cheek used to be.

The injuries were extensive.

My sinus was crushed. My nose was fractured in multiple places. My teeth were broken. Several facial nerves were severed, leaving me with partial paralysis of my lips and nostril, and a slight droop in one eye.

As if that wasn’t enough, I also suffered a severed nerve in my hand from a catheter inserted into my arm. Every medication they administered sent electric shock-like pain shooting through my hand.

No one believed me.

I can still hear the nurse saying, “Don’t be silly, it doesn’t hurt.”

But I knew something wasn’t right. I kept pleading for them to move the catheter. Eventually they did… and the pain immediately eased.

When I returned home and saw specialists, they confirmed the nerve had been severed. I needed another surgery to “bury” the exposed nerve. The sensation improved slightly, but it has never been the same.

For months after the accident, I continued to faint. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. A friend relayed to me it was like watching an epileptic seizure (I had no idea?)

I was just grateful to be alive.

But surviving isn’t always the same as recovering.

My face didn’t work properly. I couldn’t smile. I looked different.

I was broken on the outside.

And I was broken on the inside.

The career I had worked so hard for disappeared overnight. The loss of sensation and strength in my hand meant my dream job was no longer possible.

In an instant, everything I thought my future would be… was gone.