The support network.

Cari has a strong network of friends and family. We've rallied to her support. Being in a modern hospital seems to require personal advocates.  At the very least having them nearby makes the stay more manageable and bearable. For the first 7-8 days Cari was very much out of it because of the heavy dosage of drugs she was on to deal with the extreme pain.

Susie Hout Baker, an old family friend who's originally from our hometown in Ohio, lives less than twenty miles from the hospital in Connecticut. She's been a huge support. This photo is from Saturday, April 28, just after Cari was moved out of the ICU into the regular part of the hospital. 

Sandy, Lisa, Simon, Mary, Claire, Flo, Vanessa, Dean, our mom and our brother John all have spent time with Cari in the first ten days after the incident. 

Countless others have sent their love and support. It's all appreciated!

To New York.

Today I am headed to New York to be with my sister who's been in a bad riding accident (horseback).

Taking off from Salt Lake City and ascending above the Great Salt Lake before turning east.

Thanks everyone.

Last night I had my "house is ready for its close-up" party.

About 40 people came: a very cool and eclectic group of people including people I've known since the 1990s and some I've met this past year.

The house is a work in progress but is very much livable. I am hoping to be there for a long time, but you never know. Very house poor at the moment!

Most memorable moment: Clint disappearing into the attic, after dark, and returning to the party with a pile of papers from the 1890s. Coffee collecting cards and other miscellaneous items.

One of those calls.

Friday
Salt Lake City

A routine afternoon at my office, interrupted by one of those calls. “Jim, Cari’s been in an accident . . . .”

Cari’s my sister. The call came from a friend who was with her at the local hospital near her home and horse farm in New York. She’d been crushed by a horse—a full body slam with a 1,500-pound mare landing on her. She was about to be taken by helicopter to the nearest trauma 1 hospital sixty miles away.

It was about 3:50 PM Mountain Time. It wouldn’t be until nearly 9 PM Mountain until I got more information. Nobody could travel with Cari on the helicopter her friends had to drive. Even after they arrived at the hospital there was no word on her condition.

I couldn’t help but think the worst as I sat on my back patio with my dog Jake and alternating beers and cokes, idly playing with my iPhone, texting friends in New York, and having brief phone conversations with family and friends.

The general theme: “We still don’t know anything.”

Finally, word came back to Utah—she’s breathing and in the ICU. A sigh of relief. Her condition was still mostly unknown, but she was alive.

Our family has been through this a few times with other traumatic riding accidents. It was clear that this was one of the more dire incidents, but we still awaited word on her actual condition.

A temporary new fence.

You can see the decrepit old fence 12 feet behind the new one I just put up to keep the yard secure for Jake.

Hopefully I'll find the resources to replace the other one this year, it provides privacy to the back yard.

Jake's area is in front of the new fence, not a "dog run" between the fences (as if). It's his yard.