In January 2000, after six years of suffering I was sent for an MRI scan. The scan discovered a tumour the size of a five pence piece inside my spinal column. I was told that it had to be immediately removed and that there was a 50/50 chance that removing the tumour could damage my spinal cord which could result in me being paralysed.
Living with the terrible worry of whether the tumour was cancerous played gravely on my mind, and of course, my family and friends who suffered with me. They were dark days, but while I had my horses I had hope.
In October 2000 I had the operation. It was a high risk operation, but thankfully the tumour was found to be benign. Even though the tumour was removed successfully, the operation had disturbed the nerves around my spine causing me to lose all feeling in my left leg and foot. I was unable to walk and sadly, found myself wheel-chair bound. It was a dreadful time. I was told that I would need six months in rehabilitation and that I would have to learn to walk again. I was told also that it was unlikely I would ever ride again.
I had been so close to fulfilling my dreams. I had completed Blenheim CCI*** on two horses in September 2000, I could not imagine giving up on my chosen career at such a young age. There was no way I was going to listen to what I was being told! I set myself a goal, that I would walk out of hospital within six weeks. I also told my Surgeon and Physiotherapists that I intended to compete the following season starting in March 2001. They, of course, all thought I was completely mad.
My Surgeon was the Medical Officer for Brands Hatch Superbikes and we spent a lot of time comparing the differences between riding a horse and riding a motorbike, (his mode of transport in and out of London). He had put back together the likes of Carl Foggarty, so he understood my determination to prove everyone wrong. I was told that eventually the feeling should improve in my leg and foot, but it would be a slow process over the next five years. I was also told that I would have to adapt to the difficulties of moving about, and to the loss of balance when I walked. Basically, all the damaged nerves had to be re-educated, and I was like a small child learning to take their first steps but with no feeling in my left leg and foot at all.
After the operation, I could not stand and would need two people to hold me up. I could not feel the floor beneath me, and I could not balance myself. It was a very frightening time, but I worked hard in rehabilitation and with my physiotherapy. I fought. I got angry. I would not give up hope that I would walk out of hospital and get back into the saddle. With a great deal of help, I achieved my goal. Six weeks later, I walked out of the hospital and shortly after, I climbed back into the saddle.
I actually found that riding helped stimulate my nerves and slowly the feeling improved. I would face challenges, of course, but that was nothing new to me, and true to my word, the next March, I was ready to compete again. In 1997 Sir Roselier came into my life; affectionately known as Lumpy to all who know and love him. He is my most treasured of horses. Lumpy was the horse who had to cope with my weaknesses, but through that time he never once stopped trying for me. He is a top level horse and his results have proved that.
In 2001 Foot and Mouth hit our shores. All events were cancelled, along with my hopes of going to Badminton with Sir Roselier, who had gone so well at Blenheim the previous year. There were no Events taking place in Great Britain. A large British contingent decided to go to Saumur CCI*** in France, as horses were being allowed to travel across the channel. Eventually, at the end of May, I resumed my competitive career at Saumur. Over the next two years I had many falls due to my loss of balance, and many times I came close to giving up Eventing completely. I had come so far though, I just could not give up on myself and my horses. I am now confident and strong in my riding, and I owe much of that confidence to Lumpy. I have always felt that Lumpy and I were meant for each other.
