There’s ALWAYS a story!

This is long, so get a cup of coffee….

From pain to power, take your greatest adversity and turn it into opportunity!

Trent shelton

There’s always a story… This day was one I was proud to be part of. The day started special with taking a kid for a ride and moving on our way to the first camp out of most of these dogs’ lives. Remember, I have 5 adults, and the rest rookies. They’ve never stopped, ate on the line, been given straw, had booties removed, and sure never slept in front of a sled. If we stop, to this point, all they know is GO. In their mind, “we will keep going until we get home.”

When I pulled them over to camp, they were pulling the hook in an attempt to get back on the trail. So, to have them chill, I had our snowmachine pull up behind me to tie off and keep them parked. The camp went perfectly! They ate, bedded down, and I do believe they all laid down at the same time for a total of 10minutes😁. It could not have gone better scripted. The last three years of raising pups had paid off!

Then, it was time to go and finish our 15miles home. Still, in walking with the pride of my 2year in the lead, I had to untie from the snowmachine to get going. The crazy bunch of youngins’ were pounding their harnesses to leave, and my line was too taught to unhook. So, I ask my snowmachine driver (who is my handler and best friend) to inch it up to let some slack in the line. In an instant, our lives changed.

All I heard was the engine rev; I turned sideways to look behind me, and pain hit me like a 300pound lineman in my left knee with his helmet full force. The snowmachine’s metal bar impacted me so hard it launched me and my sled 5 feet, landing on my side.  The only sensation was burning and searing pain in my legs. Without any reprieve, I heard the engine of this machine with its light of death coming at me again, the motors RPMS higher and at faster speed this time it hit me a second time, running up on top of me, pushing me and my sled into the dogs like a snowplow. The skis stopped an inch from my head, resting on my back and shoulder. I was somehow still holding on, and my dogs pulled me from underneath the beast. Then all I could mutter through the screams of agony was, “find the hook, set the hook, tie out the leaders.” As I lie there writhing in the snow, all I could think is ‘it’s over, before it started, it’s over.’  The cries to God, I’m sure, was heard miles away.

While Jen was tying out the dogs to keep them from taking off, I started to gather myself. I knew I had to get it together, or I would not get off the ground, and those dogs were not ready to lay back down. They were pounding their harnesses, ready to leave, and could pull the hook any second.    I said out loud as she was running back to me from tying off, “I’ve got to see if I if I can stand on it; if I can, it’s not broke.”  Jen came running back, yelling out to see if I was ok while checking on the dogs that had been run into. They all looked unscathed, so my attention turned on my physical injuries. I was unsure which part of my leg was exactly injured. I had pain from my mid-thigh to calf.  As an ER nurse, I was quickly triaging in my head the injuries and determine how bad my fate truly was.  I rolled over, inched my way on top of my side-lying sled, and pushed myself upright.  I could stand and put a little weight on it- I knew at that moment, surely it did not get my femur (the big thigh bone)!  Poor Jen said she was sorry about 1000 times in a 5minute period. Come to find out, her glove unintentionally got stuck on the accelerator when she tried to inch forward. In doing so, she yanked her hand away, trying to get it to stop resulting in the second time it caught again flooring the throttle until she was able to hit the kill switch. My response was, “dude, it was an accident, they happen, I’m not dead, the dogs are ok, we’re gonna be ok.”  The amount of remorse and grief she feels to this day is palpable, and I feel terrible for her having to carry this burden.   

The amount of adrenaline that is piecing through your body is an understatement in moments like this.   We were still 15 miles from home and had to get back.  I started shuffling around, limping, trying to move the best I could, so I decided to upright the sled, and I was going to pull the hook to ride them in.  Jen is brand new to running dogs, she was shaken up, and I did not want the team’s responsibility and my injuries to fall on her.  I thought best if I stood one-legged on the sled and let them pull me home.  I got on the runners, pulled the hook, and they shot off like cannons. Immediately I had to use my leg, and I knew this was not going to be easy-it never is.  As painful as the ride was, they pulled me home up every single hill into the yard, and I stayed upright.  They had done their job, camped, and came home happy with wagging tails, not a single dog injured-what a miracle. I truly believe God’s hand of protection lay over us that night!

Fast forward to the next day and assessing the injuries.  As an ER nurse, you have a hard time going into the ER unless you are ‘dying.’  I wasn’t, just in pain with lots of swelling to my knee and difficulty walking or putting weight on it.  It’s good to have ‘people’ in your pocket that are friends and providers.  Nicole Wisniewski from Sports Medicine of Fairbanks was able to get me in the next day to assess the damage.  The initial X-rays did not show much other than a bad bone bruise, and we were set for an MRI the following morning. I had the MRI and followed up with her in the afternoon to get my results. 

  This was one of the most earth-shattering moments of my life. 

As she moved through the MRI images, there was injury, after injury, after injury.  There were too many to keep count of, and I could not even remember all of them.  My world started spinning, my heart started racing, and emotions from only the pit of despair fell upon me.  My heart shattered, and I broke, emotionally, and physically. I began sobbing.  This season really was over.  The tears flowed as the thoughts of these dogs working so hard, doing everything I’d asked them to this point, we were a team, and now their captain was letting them down.  How, why, God please no, please don’t let it be, why.  This is when having providers that are also your good friends like Nicole, who know the thing you need most at that moment is a hug and embrace, of “it’s ok buddy, we are going to get you through this.”  My world was spinning; I was overwhelmed, had no idea what to do at that moment.  She pointed me in every direction needed.  I asked, “can you get me a print out of the report? I can’t even remember all of this.”  The list was long, and paper now tears stained read:

  • Subchondral trabecular fracture
  • Lateral tibial condyle contusion (bone bruise)
  • ACL sprain
  • MCL and posterior oblique ligament injury
  • Hamstring tear
  • Medial meniscal tear
  • Fluid accumulation with joint effusion

What does all that mean to a non-medical individual-its bad?  My assessment of “if I can stand, it’s not broke was wrong.”  I had not only stood but somehow stayed on that sled after; there is something to be said for adrenaline. 

That night was one of the lowest of my life, with more tears and emotions than can ever be explained.  After less than two years prior, going through 2 ankle surgeries and recovers, I was not mentally prepared this soon to be incapacitated again. I don’t sit well. I’m a doer by nature. For me to have prolonged periods of time on the couch, I drive myself and everyone around me crazy. By my side, my husband assured me that we would get through it; it’s going to work out.  I couldn’t even lookout in the dog yard with crying. I was not ready to do ‘this’ again!

Now what, where do we go from here.  I went the next morning to the Mckinley Orthopedics and met with Dr. Tim Carey.  He and his team use cutting-edge technology with a new era of sports medicine care.  We discussed options.  He was optimistic with words that are still ringing through my ears, “I think we can get you back on the sled THIS YEAR!”  Wait, what, seriously, no way.  I went from my lowest point to optimistically hopeful.  It was the FIRST good news in 4days. I was scheduled for surgery the next morning. 

The surgery went off without a hitch.  I was in and out with injuries repaired and on my way to recovery.  May I point out, it is bizarre during our times of COVID to have surgery without any family around for support, but I was well taken care of by the medical teams at the Surgery Center of Fairbanks.

Where are we now; RECOVERING.  My goals have shifted, and priorities have changed.  I have been showered with text messages, calls, visits, and love from so many around me.  Friends and family have stayed with us, fed us, fed my dogs, scooped poop (because that never ends), played with my children, and even RUN MY DOGS.  I will undergo intensive rehab, strengthening, and recovery.  We are unsure of the time frame or what this season for dogs or our life will look like.  We know now that it is our time to be patient; everything has its timing, and I must allow for healing to occur.  Our wonderful friend Karolyn Bristol and former rock star handler from SP Kennel came over to help run dogs to keep them in shape for me this past weekend.  We will keep getting miles on them, and they will get to keep doing what they love to do RUN. I will join them soon enough, healthy, happy, and strong, to take them places we have never been!

One thing is for certain when both the dogs and I are up to speed; we will get this young inexperienced team on their first race.  These next few months will be positive, encouraging, and I hope to bring inspiration to those also trying to overcome obstacles.  As I always say, I can handle hard; I just need possible.  THIS IS POSSIBLE!    I hope you follow along for the journey❤

2 thoughts on “There’s ALWAYS a story!

  1. Bridgett lifting prayers and your positive energy to get you and your young team to their first race as a team.

  2. I had no idea you were going through this until Jen told me. What a terrible experience for both of you! And yet, you are teaching all of us through example. Attitude is 1/2 the battle! A hug for you and Jen.

Comments are closed.