Cynthia's Summer Adventure

This blog will chronicle my journey through the process of septal myectomy surgery at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN. My surgery is currently scheduled for August 11, 2006.

Saturday, January 20, 2018

Getting Back Up On the Horse Again

Me on Ladybug
(Photo by Jennifer Granger)


On Monday of this week, Martin Luther King Day 2018, I did something that I wasn't sure I would ever do again.  I rode a horse.  Her name is Ladybug, and she is an American Saddlebred horse who teaches people how to ride. She and I have a lot in common. You see, she is a retired show horse. I am a retired show rider.



I started riding at the local stable near my house when I was 11.  From the first time I visited and rode a tall flaxen chestnut gelding named Mardi Gras (I did grow up in New Orleans!), I was hooked.  Soon, I was spending all of my spare time at the stables. Every day after school, and all day on weekends and holidays, you could find me at at Audubon Stables. With all of the practice I was getting, I was soon able to work up to the fancier American Saddlebred horses, the main focus at Audubon.




An early horse show - Age 12




A later show - age 15 on my first horse, a pleasure horse named Son of the Great One





During college - Age 19 on my first five-gaited horse - a gelding named Breezy Ayres





During law school at Age 23 on my last horse - a five-gaited mare named Symbol's Bright Jewell

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I continued to ride throughout middle and high school, and into college and law school.  Upon law school graduation, I moved to Los Angeles, California and started my life as a working adult.  Though I tried to keep up with my riding, it was more difficult to do as a busy professional and it was necessary to travel long distances just to reach areas where horse facilities are located.

Life continued, and the time passed with no time for horses. I met my husband, we married, and decided to have a family. Just before Thanksgiving 2001, we were delighted to welcome our son, Jesse. While struggling through the haze of sleepless nights, I began suffering unexplained headaches that I had ascribed to the stress of the pregnancy and feedings every three hours. Instead, I was diagnosed with a golf ball-sized Acoustic Neuroma (AN), a benign (but still potentially fatal) brain tumor on my auditory nerve. The large size and location of the tumor, which was already compressing my brain stem and causing neurological impairment, meant that immediate surgery was my only realistic option.  

I had two surgeries to treat the AN, one to relieve my hydrocephalus by implanting a ventriculoperitoneal shunt, and another to remove the very large tumor that was compressing my brain stem. I suffered through a lengthy and arduous recovery process.  The suddenness of my illness, compounded with the complications from the after-effects of treatment, left me without a compass or frame of reference for a completely unfamiliar and terrifying situation. Since the tumor was located on my right balance nerve, a nerve that was ultimately severed during surgery, I had to learn how to get by with a compromised vestibular system, which included re-learning how to walk, and adapting to having only one working ear. I also had to learn to take care of my 2-month-old baby under these new and unpleasant circumstances. 

As my months of rehabilitation began to pay off, my previously known but not very symptomatic hereditary heart condition, Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (HCM), decided to rear its ugly head and remind me that it was not to be forgotten. About ten months after brain surgery, I almost fainted after walking off the elevator in my condo building. My then-cardiologist referred me to an electrophysiologist in his practice, who recommended I get an Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator (ICD). My ICD was implanted in 2003, protecting me from sudden cardiac arrest, but doing nothing to improve my worsening symptoms. My shortness of breath gradually worsened until I was unable to walk up the slightest grade without feeling short of breath.  Chest pain became my constant companion.  I avoided stairs and hills wherever possible.  I tried increasing quantities of various medications for years, but ultimately, I maxed out on the dosages.

At that point, I decided it was time to consider open heart surgery. After a huge amount of medical research, soul searching, and inner reflection, on August 11, 2006, I decided to travel to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN in order to undergo septal myectomy surgery.  The surgery went as planned, and my surgeon was able to remove the obstructive tissue in my heart in order to reduce my cardiac symptoms.


The last twelve years since my open-heart surgery have been far better. Though I still run out of steam faster than many of my peers, I have been able to live a fairly normal life, but that life did not include horses. In fact, I had pretty much resigned myself to that chapter of my life being over. My myectomy did wonders for my heart, but of course it didn't do anything to improve my balance. I didn't think that I would ever be up to riding again.


Then, at the suggestion of an old horse friend, just as the 2017 holiday season began, I started a Facebook group for Audubon Stables. Over just a few days, 80 people joined the group and were sharing stories of the horses we rode and the fun times we had back at Audubon Stables. They even started planning a reunion.  And all of this talk sparked something in me that had been long dormant. I resolved that when the new year began, I would find a place where I could try riding again.


I did some internet research and located a suitable riding stable with a lesson program. I made arrangements with the instructor, Jennifer, and a few days later my husband and I got in the car and headed out to Lake View Terrace - a 30-minute freeway ride from our home.  We parked next to some horse trailers, and meandered over to the barn where we found Jennifer. The recent fires had burned their way up to the property line of the ranch (which had fortunately escaped harm), and as we looked out at the charred hillside, Jennifer and I worked together to clean and saddle Ladybug. Soon, it was time for me to see what I could do. Jennifer led Ladybug up to the mounting block, and I had a moment of hesitation.  What if I was not up to this?  I pushed aside the fear, got on, and for a split second, it felt like the first time I had ever been on a horse.  Soon, though, my muscle memory took over and it was just like it ever was.  It took me a minute to get in sync with Ladybug, but I forgot about the challenges of the past fifteen years, and just rode.  My focus was on how the horse felt, which diagonal to post on, using leg pressure to get the horse to go straight on the rail. These things made me forget my fear and just ride. There were no worries about what might be. I was just doing the one thing I have always loved and my lesson went by in a flash.


Now, I can't wait 'til I can go back and ride again!


Click here to learn about Acoustic Neuroma 

Click here to learn about Hypertrophic Cardiomypathy 

Click here to learn about the American Saddlebred 






© 2018 Cynthia Burstein Waldman, All Rights Reserved




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