Sucking It Up.

I wrote this long, angry tirade about God, medicine and being grateful for what one has.  And then I realized that being angry doesn't really help anyone.  Unless it's like, a righteous anger and you utilize it to counteract imbalances in the world.

I went home sick yesterday.  I don't have a very stressful life, but somehow, my body is reacting as though I'm at war.  I'm too susceptible.

I rode Archie in the new bit on Wednesday.  He had a couple moments of confusion, but seemed to take to it pretty well.  And he certainly pinned his ears at me less.  I think his general grumpiness is going to improve when he starts seeing the chiro regularly.  Yes, we haven't had the first visit yet, but I'm already planning on making this a regular occurrence.  Two things of note from the ride:

  • In the very first warm-up lap, I was standing straight up, tucking my cellphone into the back of my jeans (I can't find my holster).  For whatever reason, the Kid spooked.  I have to give us both props, because he only did the one giant step down/sideways and I was only touching him with my calves.  I wouldn't expect a spook to dismount me, but I was still pretty damn proud of myself.
  • He reared.  It was a baby rear, but he reared.  Just a bit more than a crow-hop.  I get it, too.  I could justify why he would get so pissed off and I'm going to try not to do it again until after he gets adjusted.  His right shoulder is tight and he doesn't much care for tracking right.  I was asking him to track right in a diagonal up a small incline and bending right.  I felt his butt shudder and then he popped up.  We did some bending work after that.  I put him in the same equation after he felt loose again and he was fine.  
So yeah, small ride tonight, tomorrow off while I work at the vets' office and take a dressage lesson, then he'll be adjusted on Sunday.  He'll probably get half of next week off to adjust to the adjusting.  :)

End note:  part of my angry tirade that I can't let go of:
I'm not quiet about the fact that I don't believe in God.  When I was sick yesterday, he didn't make me better; Tums did.  When my husband found a blood clot in a patient and subsequently saved that guy's life, was God directing my husband's hands and mind?  No.  My atheist husband found that shit himself.  If your religious nature dictates that you must thank God for your miraculous recovery, fine.  But also thank the doctors and physician assistants and medical assistants and nurses that devoted their lives to learning the art of saving yours. 

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