Re: Unidentified subject!

[BMcCrary27@aol.com]

In a message dated 11/19/98 5:43:30 AM Pacific Standard Time,
mlaboure@flash.net writes:

<< Had the same problem with my husband.  I started telling him how
professional he
 looked when he wore one during competitions.  Then we had a few personal
friends
 whose helmets literally saved their lives.  He finally has started wearing
his
 helmet almost every ride now.  Try the praise method. >>

I've tried EVERY method.  Interestingly enough, the only time my husband has
had a head injury was on a trail ride at home, doing a flat-footed walk on a
level trail.  The horse tripped over an exposed tree root, fell, and my
husband's last memory of the incident was of the saddle coming up toward his
face.  I was about 15 feet ahead of him, heard a scuffle and thud, turned
around to see him lying on the trail with the horse standing looking at him
with curiosity.  I called to my husband -- no answer -- and in the next 30
seconds, I was reprogramming my life to live it as a widow.  Fortunately, he
was only knocked out cold -- then he started groaning, and that sound was
worse than the silence.  It was the most awful sound I have ever heard come
from a human being.  We've both had first aid and CPR training, but I forgot
it in the panic and instead ran to the nearest neighbor's house -- about 1/8
mile away -- and asked for help.  When we returned in the neighbor's truck, my
husband was not where I had last seen him (I had COMMANDED him to stay there
-- DO NOT get up).  He had gotten up, gone over to my mare, who was tied to a
tree, and was learning on her.  He didn't know where he was, or what had
happened.  The neighbor drove him home, about 1 mile away, and left him.  I
ponied the extra horse home and found my husband, changed into sweat clothes,
standing in the middle of the yard looking dazed.  I took him to an emergency
medical clinic, 15 miles away, and determined that other than a scalp wound
and concussion, there was nothing else broken.  There are about two hours in
his life that are forever erased from his memory.  Believe me, it isn't worth
it.  A helmet is so easy to put on and wear.  But there is some thing about
image -- or freedom -- or something.  I can't get past it.  Except, thank
goodness, in competition.  I have insisted, and he has complied.

Barbara Mc