It all started out as a normal Sunday afternoon at the Hansey ranch: morning chores, family brunch, and planning for the afternoon.  The plans were set.  Grandma would go to town to run some errands.  Grandpa and Dad would go to the barn and ride the colt.  Mom would start cleaning the camper for 4-H fair next week.  Mom, that’s me, would take Troy, the youngest, along to play.  Tiffanie, the nine-year-old, would stay around the barn to call 9-1-1 just in case.  Knowing the risks involved in riding unbroken colts, we always planned for the unexpected.  Tiffanie was busy brushing her 4-H project horses and getting her grooming supplies together for the upcoming youth fair.

Grandpa, my father, and Ted, my husband, enjoyed training horses.  It did not seem fair to me that cleaning the camper and watching the kids should be my sole responsibility.  However, I was off to clean the camper.  Troy, an active six-year-old, had asked some neighborhood kids to come over and play.   

In the arena, Vern, the young colt was being saddled.  Just as Ted stepped aboard the horse, it began bucking.  Ted was neither on top nor off the horse, but suspended in midair across the saddle trying to push himself off, but being sucked back into the horse with every rhythmic jump. Ted was finally propelled off of Vern with his feet going above his head.   Coming down head first, Ted hit the solid wall directly in front of him bending the wooden door into an arch.  He then hit headfirst on the wood floor of the hay room and lay motionless on the arena floor. 

Vern continued to wildly buck and bounce around the arena.  Grandpa ran to Ted and held him very still, thinking he hit his shoulder and dislocated and or broke it.  The neighbor man was working in his yard, upon hearing the loud noise he jumped the fence in one leap and helped by catching the horse.  Grandpa told Tiffanie to quickly ride her bike to the house (aprox. 300 yards) to get me.  I had to gather the kids and send them all home.  I drove the car right into the arena next to Ted.  He was a reluctant patient so I remember telling him, “Get up and get in the car, so I can take you to the hospital, or I’m going to call 911.”  I remember him telling me, “Go ahead and call 911.  I can’t get up, I can’t move.” 

The dispatcher told us, not to move Ted and that she would send an ambulance.  I guided the volunteers to the side of the driveway to keep a path clear for the ambulance.  The volunteers put a hard neck brace on Ted and prepared him to be transported.  The ambulance arrived quickly.  The driver asked, if I wanted to follow in my car or ride along with them.  I chose to drive my own car so I could bring Ted home from the hospital.  It seemed logical to me to transport him to the nearest hospital, McKenzie Willamette.  My dad would watch the kids so everything would be fine.   I don’t remember calling additional family members, but I knew my sister-in-laws and mother-in-law would want to know about Ted’s accident.          

One of Ted’s sisters, Shirley, worked in ER at Sacred Heart Hospital.  She met us at McKenzie Willamette, where the ER doctor ordered some x-rays of Ted upon arrival and told us he would be sore but was fine.  Shirley asked the doctor if he would order a CT scan and keep Ted overnight just to be sure.  The doctor replied, “The CT scan would expose Ted to unnecessary radiation and if he had broken his neck he would not be alive at this moment, and would certainly be unable to walk.”   Shirley was persistent!   Finally, the doctor agreed to keep Ted overnight. 

The next morning a different doctor was on call.  She checked and released Ted after thumping him on the head a couple of times and prescribing some muscle relaxers.  I picked him up and took him to my mom’s house.  He wanted to keep things as normal as possible for the kids and wanted Tiffanie to go ahead with her 4-H plans.  It would be easier to care for him there as I could take turns with my parents.  Ted just sat in the overstuffed chair, not feeling like talking, eating, or drinking.  He was in extreme pain and the muscle relaxers were not helping.  As my dad took care of Ted, he realized that something had to be done because Ted was not getting better.                              
Ted’s sister, Shirley, called and talked with my dad.  She came out and picked Ted up and took him to a doctor.  I met her at the doctor’s office.  The doctor ordered some x-rays.  He didn’t seem to like what he saw.  Looking at the x-rays, I saw it too.  Even I could see a broken bone.  He should have sent Ted straight to the hospital at that point, (mistake number...?).  But, no, he sent Ted home again with a referral to a specialist. 

The next day we were off to the specialist. With no appointment, Ted had to wait in the scalding hot car until his sister created a bit of a scene and a patient with an appointment feeling guilty gave his appointment to Ted.  The doctor pulled out the x-rays in front of Ted and me.  The doctor told us he saw a broken C2 and Ted would need to be transported across the street to Sacred Heart Hospital for treatment.  He told Ted to remain completely still, while he ordered an ambulance to strap Ted onto a backboard and transport him to the hospital.  It was at that moment I realized how close to death my husband had been and still was.  Looking back, I realized that the doctor must have peeked at the x-rays and was trying to decide what to do with Ted and was checking out his personal liability while he had us wait in that hot car.  I totally broke down crying and called my daughter at the fairgrounds to tell her I would not be returning to 4-H fair.  It was Saturday before I could leave Ted’s side. 

At the end of the week, I went to the fairgrounds to pick up Tiffanie and her horses, arriving just in time for the awards ceremony.  Apprehensive of what I had to do next, I sat down with my daughter and son telling them about their dad.  He wanted to see the kids, but I was afraid of their reaction seeing him in the hospital hooked up to various life support machines and sporting a halo neck brace that was bolted into his skull.  The visit with the kids was kept short.  Ted demonstrated great patience throughout the five additional surgeries and the five months he was home on doctor’s request without work.  In the first few days following Ted’s injury, he constantly worried about his job and that he must go to work.  When the doctor finally released Ted for work it was near the end of a week.  I remember Ted saying, “A couple more days won’t hurt.  I’ll go back to work on Monday.”  This experience helped our family learn an important lesson about priorities.     

Jokingly, our family calls Ted the real Superman.  Christopher Reeves also broke his C2 when he fell from a horse.  Just by the physics of the fall and the break, Ted’s vertebrae broke away from his spinal cord.  Christopher Reeves was not as lucky as he damaged the spinal cord causing paralysis and the need for life support systems for breathing.