Brisbane (Monday)

Again, today was a little crazy. We had lunch planned, but then found out at the last minute it was grandparents day at Charlies school, so we had a bit of a rushed shower then headed off. It was a lovely service, with an enjoyable talk from one of the teachers. After morning tea, where we met Maria, an Austrian survivor of WWII and a remarkably tough old cookie, it was time for a quick stop at home. We headed off to lunch two shops down from the restaurant we ate at Saturday- Hoggs Breath Cafe today. Today we were celebrating Julies niece, Lisa's, birthday. Again, it had been a long time since I had seen Lisa, so it was lovely to see her again. She was a little embarrassed when the Hoggs Breath staff, including our waiter, Dicky Knees, brought out her cake singing Happy Birthday. Loudly! All in all, it was a lovely lunch. Its a good thing my time in Brisbane is almost over, all this lunching would quickly go to my tummy I think. I don't think my wallet would like it either...

Someone at lunch made a comment about wanting a 'real man', resulting in a discussion of what exactly makes a real man. Of course, the subject of crying came up. Now personally, I think a man should be able to talk, not bottle things up inside. He should be able to cry when something real happens, like if his mum was dying, but able to understand crying over a broken nail is a waste of water. And of course in talking about when it is reasonable for a man to cry, the question was asked, when is it reasonable for a woman to cry. Why is it that it is acceptable for a woman to cry over a broken nail? (For me anyone crying over a broken nail is a waste of water. Except maybe, maybe on your wedding day). Anyway, the point of this train of thought... I was asked if I cried when I broke my back. Thinking back, I'm certain I didn't shed a tear until the ambos got there. And even there it was as much from frustration at the repeated questions, than from the lack of pain killers.

I'm going to let you all in on a secret. My mum is one of very few people who knows this. I do actually cry. But I'm a closet crier. Even before I had my accident, I very rarely showed emotion to others. I was always a strong independent child (otherwise known as a horrible little shit), but working for my first boss, Graeme, in a very male dominated environment (racing stables), taught me to toughen up more than ever. There were many skills I learnt working for Graeme, and I have many happy memories from working in his team, but the months leading up to my accident were very hard work. I was fighting for the respect of my boss and coworkers, we were understaffed, and I was trying to prove that I had what it takes to be a jockey. That was what I wanted.( If I'm completely honest it's still what I want, but since that is no longer an option, I have to move my focus elsewhere.) So, as a female trying to make my way in a 'mans world', obviously bursting out crying whenever anything didn't go my way, would quickly dissolve any respect I had earned. So I became very good at turning my emotions on and off. I would get on a horse of a morning, leave the stripping sheds, and by the time I hit the track, my face would be covered in tears. I would bawl the entire way around the track, puffing and panting  not from the horse underneath me, but from the effort of crying. But when that horse had finished its work, I took a deep breath, two if I needed, wiped my eyes, and no one ever knew.
This is how i dealt with breaking my back. I didn't actually cry, until about 3 weeks in. I remember it clearly. By this stage I knew my situation was much more permanent than I had first thought, but I was by no means ready to give up on the racing industry. (I fought to keep my strappers licence, restricted of course, for months after my accident. Unfortunately it was not a battle I was able to win, and I have had to tackle the problem from a different angle-as an owner). Mum had asked me if I had any thoughts on other career possibilities. I guess it was that moment that I realised things really were different. That my life had drastically changed, and that I never could go back. It was the straw that broke this camels back. There, locked away in room 13 of the Royal Talbot spinal ward, the dam broke. I don't know how long I cried for, but when I was finished, I wiped my eyes, took a deep breath, and it was over.
This has been how I have coped over the past four and a half years. Again, mum is really the only person who understands this. Occasionally others have seen it. A few weeks ago it was my dad after a series of fights with my sisters. Needless to say, pointless and started by a tired and cranky me.
One of the things that really gets to me is watching other riders achieving milestones in their riding careers. Jason Maskiell is a very good young rider from tassie. We both started riding track work about the same time, and would have started our apprenticeships around the same time had it not been for my accident. I was at Launceston the day he rode his first race. I had to leave my family to watch it. That race was one of the toughest things I ever had to watch. To keep it together in public was such a huge battle. I was so happy for him, so excited, but at the same time I could feel my heart tearing in two. That should have been me!
Driving past Longford racetrack in the truck with Graeme heading to Elwick was another moment that tore me in two. I rode one jump out before my fall. At longford. That is a memory that will stay with me for ever. The thought that I won't ever do that again is physically painful. I don't tell you all this because I want you to feel sorry for me, I'm telling you so you know that despite appearances, I do continue to hurt sometimes. I tell people that being in a chair is ok, that walking is overrated. That my shoes never wear out, that I get the best parking. I chose to focus on the future, to take the good from this experience, not the bad. But I still feel.
I should be finishing my apprenticeship about now. Instead, I'm preparing to start a diploma in horse business management. I'm excited for next year. I am so happy to find an institution that is not only happy to take me on, even with my complications, but that wants me to participate to the best of my ability. I am the first student to ever be taken on by this college in a chair. I am taking this opportunity on with both hands. Hopefully my experiences with allow someone else to take a 'step' forward they might not have otherwise been able to take.

Before the sky fell