Equine ER

Dear Readers:

After two years, I've decided to end the Equine ER blog on TheHorse.com to focus on other projects. This is my last post, and I want to thank you for your readership and your comments.

Of all the comments I've gotten from blog readers, the one that stands out the most was about losing a horse and the impact of "their (empty) stall in your heart." Here it is again:

In over forty years of horses in my life every day, and over twenty-five of them as my living, I learned that no matter how much business they are, they still work their way into our hearts. ... Unfortunately, like most people who have had long-term dealings with horses, mules or donkeys, I have suffered the loss of some special wonderful friends. Honestly, you can fill their stall in the barn again, but their stall in your heart forever remains empty. I suggest that when you lose an equine friend, remember the good times you had, but keep in mind there are so many more out there who will nuzzle you, if given half a chance, and are waiting their turn to brighten your life. 

I was also moved by the responses from readers to that post, found here.

I was hired by Eclipse Press, the publishing arm of Blood-Horse, to write the book Equine ER, starting in spring 2008. For a year, I followed around a crazy pack of equine vets at Rood and Riddle Equine Hospital in Lexington, Kentucky. This blog started here while I was writing and reporting the book, documenting that experience, and stayed on after Equine ER came out, featuring original content and book excerpts. 

I'll continue to blog regularly on my own Equine ER site, and that blog will soon become part of leslieguttman.com.

Meanwhile, as many of you know, the World Equestrian Games recently finished here in Lexington. I met some amazing people covering the Games for The Horse (blogging) and for public radio. One of them was Cindy O'Reilly, one of only two women in the driving competition. Cindy was an underdog competitor for a number of reasons: She had only been training seriously for WEG for four years or so, unlike other competitors with decades of experience. She had an all-mare team, and numerous people thought that an all-girl team would prove too temperamental to train. Plus, Cindy's horses weren't your classic fancy sport horses; they were sturdy home-breds who had grown up together – Thoroughbred-Percheron crosses.

Anyway, Cindy set her mind four years ago on getting to the World Equestrian Games. She trained relentlessly. She created a book of pictures and articles about her and her horses, and looked at it every night, visualizing herself making it to WEG. And she eventually qualified to do so. I hope this doesn't sound sappy, but even though she came in 20th, she honestly was a winner for having made it there. She told me she hoped her story would inspire other underdogs. She said:

"It's so easy to let your dream fall out of your pocket. And then you can't even find where that dream has gone. You didn't even know you lost it. You need to find it and put it back in your pocket. It doesn't matter what people say, or what they tell you. If you think you can accomplish that dream, you can."

Here's to whatever your dreams are. All the best, Leslie Guttman

Postscript:

The archive of this blog will stay up for several weeks and then remain on TheHorse.com, accessible by clicking on the Blogs link in the main navigation. 

Thanks so much to everyone I've worked with at TheHorse.com on this blog: Stephanie Church, Christy West, Megan Arszman, Dawn Garner, as well as those who have moved on: Chad Mendell, Erin Ryder, and Kimberly Brown. Special thanks to Jackie Duke, editor of Eclipse Press, for hiring me to write Equine ER, as well as everyone at Blood-Horse who has worked so hard to make the book successful. 

Today we’re celebrating Equine ER’s first birthday – the nonfiction book by Leslie Guttman, published by Eclipse Press, came out roughly a year ago.

As a special gift to readers of this blog, we’re giving away the Equine ER e-book free for a limited time. Email equineer@leslieguttman.com up until midnight PST TONIGHT (9/21/10), and you’ll receive the e-book this week.

Again, that is the electronic book we’re giving away, NOT the print book, the e-e-e-book. E as in Equine ER. (Sorry for the overkill; just want to be clear.)

(Very important: The e-book will be coming to you as an attachment. Check your spam box this week if you don't see it in your inbox.)

We appreciate you reading this blog and all your comments over the past two years. Your recent comments have included:

1)  Readers discussing various reasons behind their horse’s flight response being triggered, including: “a) golf-ball-sized hail on a tin roof, b) dogs running (above) in a hay loft, c) my horse’s own shadow!”

2)  A passionate debate over Thoroughbred breeding after an Equine ER book excerpt discussed a mare on Foal Watch with a history of extremely problematic pregnancies. One reader argued in the discussion that “breeding a mare that can produce quality offspring that enhances the horse market is not greed. Especially in this case where the owner is investing in veterinary care to ensure the safety of the mare and foal.” Another reader countered by saying, “… but to risk the mare’s life and possibly the foal inheriting the same problems? Is this quality breeding?”

3) Equine ER author Leslie Guttman is a quote collector, and another reader liked the quote Leslie picked up from a horsewoman on Equine ER's New York book tour. The quote was: “Without limitation, there is no freedom." – Thomas Aquinas. The reader wrote: “If only parents and animal enthusiasts would apply that concept …”

Meanwhile, if you have come to this blog recently, there is an Equine ER video series on YouTube that was produced by Leslie during the writing of the book. Search for Equine ER on YouTube or check out one of the videos here.

This blog is going on break until after the World Equestrian Games (WEG), which starts Sept. 25 and ends mid-October. See you after we get back and don’t forget to check out The Horse’s special team coverage of WEG.

Last week in our excerpt from the book Equine ER chronicling 24 hours during foaling season, an exhausted vet received an emergency phone call informing him that a foaling mare was in trouble. He rushed back to the clinic. The foal was delivered, but whether she would live was in question. 

On the gurney, intern Dr. Julie Wolfe clamped and cut the newborn filly's umbilicus, and Dr. Bryan Waldridge inserted nasotracheal tubes and assisted the foal’s breathing with an ambu bag.

While techs wiped the filly clean and rubbed her to facilitate breathing, Wolfe and a tech got a catheter in the foal’s neck to administer any medication if she ran into trouble. 

The foal’s heartbeat was strong. Soon, she was breathing on her own.

Dr. Bryan Waldridge talks to a client on a break during foaling season.

Less than twenty minutes later, Wolfe was helping the new filly learn to walk down in ICU. A nursemare was being arranged; the foal’s mother was considered a risky candidate for nursing because of previous health problems. The foal was so cute she looked like a stuffed animal from FAO Schwartz: small, red, two long, perfectly matched white socks, a blaze down her forehead in the shape of a dagger. It’s hard to remember something so adorable is actually an investment that can be $100,000 or more for someone. As the foal tried to walk, she kept getting too close to the wall, almost bumping into it several times. When Wolfe put her hands on her, her skin rippled, having never felt a human’s touch.

Waldridge stopped by the stall before he went back home.

“I like little red horses,” he mused, looking at the foal.

Wolfe wanted the baby to take a rest, but the foal wanted to keep walking.

“She doesn’t listen,” Wolfe said.

“She’s female,” Waldridge replied.

“That’s why I like fillies.” Wolfe said, “They can push through anything.”

The two vets watched the foal, and the other mares in the unit watched their foals. Another foal would arrive in critical respiratory distress at 4 a.m. for Waldridge during an ice storm, followed by a mare two hours later with severe colic for surgeon Rolf Embertson. The foal would be saved. The mare with colic would fall down on the frozen asphalt after exiting the trailer, unable to rise. Interns would have to put her on a glide (emergency sled) and drag her in to surgery, slipping and sliding all over the place. After surgery, that horse would also live. The rest of the weekend would bring more emergencies, more lost sleep. But right now inside the ICU unit, it was calm, and outside, the sky contemplated darkness.

This concludes our excerpt chronicling 24 hours during foaling season. If you're coming to Lexington, Kentucky, for the World Equestrian Games, author Leslie Guttman will be signing copies of Equine ER at the event. More details to come. If you want to reach Leslie in regard to the book, now in a second printing, email equineer@leslieguttman.com. Thanks for reading. 

After working over 36 hours straight, a tired vet gets an emergency phone call in our continuing excerpt from the nonfiction book Equine ER chronicling 24 hours during foaling season at one of the country's top equine hospitals. 

Down in the intensive care unit, Dr. Bryan Waldridge’s extra-large filly had fought her colic for twelve hours and won. She was weak but stable. The puffy foal across from her was learning how to nurse (“starting to figure out the udder zone,” Waldridge said). It was now early Saturday evening. Waldridge had been working virtually 36 hours straight. He went home, and as he was getting ready to grab a shower, the clinic rang: Come back. Dystocia.

Foaling season brings babies with multiple problems from dystocias.

An hour is considered the maximum time to get a foal out alive (with rare exceptions) from the time water breaks, and by the time this mare got to Rood & Riddle, it had already been twenty minutes. Tucked inside its mother, the foal’s head was pointed down toward its chest and then turned toward one shoulder, instead of the normal position of head extended between front legs reaching forward (with back legs pointing straight behind).

The hospital staff went into what I thought of as the dystocia ballet. The choreography unfolded: Within three minutes the mare was anesthetized and hoisted in the air. Three to four more minutes passed during which Dr. Travis Tull reached into the mare’s uterus, took hold of the baby’s mandible (lower jawbone) with his thumb and forefinger, and positioned the head correctly. Straps were attached to the baby’s front feet, which were already protruding from the mother. As two interns pulled on the straps, Tull used his hands to guide and ensure that the head remained extended in the pelvic canal. In a few more seconds, the baby was out.

At a nearby gurney, Waldridge and Wolfe waited in white jumpsuits that made them look like workers in a nuclear power plant. The jumpsuits are made of a biosecure material that helps ensure nothing contaminates newborns. Tull’s team quickly handed over the filly and she was placed on the gurney. Wolfe clamped and cut the umbilicus; Waldridge inserted nasotracheal tubes and assisted the foal’s breathing with an ambu bag.

While techs wiped the filly clean and rubbed her to facilitate breathing, Wolfe and a tech got a catheter in the foal’s neck to administer any medication if she ran into trouble. 

Note: If you're coming to Lexington for the World Equestrian Games, author Leslie Guttman will be signing copies of Equine ER at the event. More details to come. If you want to reach Leslie in regard to the book, now in a second printing, email equineer@leslieguttman.com. Thanks for reading.

Last week, a 1,400-pound warmblood got his leg caught in a gate in this excerpt about 24 hours during foaling season from the Eclipse Press book Equine ER by Leslie Guttman. Today, interns get rattled as the warmblood comes out of anesthesia with a strong flight response.

In the recovery stall, interns Leslie Christnagel and Milosz Grabski waited for the horse to wake up to help him out of the anesthesia while I talked to Dr. Alexandra Tracey, another intern, as she cleaned up. At Rood & Riddle, to “recover” a horse from anesthesia, one rope is tied to the horse’s halter, another to its tail, and both ropes go through metal rings in the wall to act as a pulley system. One person (in this case Grabski) waits at the hind end of the horse holding the rope at the ready, while another (Christnagel) sits on its neck, looking for signs that it is waking: eyes become alert; the horse begins to swallow; the tongue regains its tone. Shortly after these signs appear, the horse usually begins to try to get up. Both people help by pulling on the ropes to stabilize the animal as it gets to its feet.

A horse coming out of anesthesia can be a handful. Here, farriers worked on a knocked-out horse whose feet were badly in need of trimming.

It sounds easier than it is. Recovering a horse is a dangerous and unpredictable task. Horses are creatures of flight; their first instinct upon waking up confused in a strange place is to try to get out of there as quickly as possible. A horse often becomes conscious of its surroundings before all of its body wakes up, and it will try to rise, usually front end first. It could hurt itself, but because a horse can’t rise without lifting its head, the recoverer on the neck can slow the process by holding down the head. Finally, some horses coming to have a stronger flight response than others and try to rise before the telltale signs of waking appear.

As I talked to Tracey, out of the blue, Christnagel yelled, “You GUYS!!!” The warmblood was trying to get up without the vets having gotten good notice. He was lifting and turning his head toward the wall as he tried to rise, taking Christnagel with him and encircling her with his neck. He was too strong for her to hold down. The danger existed of him throwing her into the middle of the stall and then stepping on top of her. When he turned his neck away from the wall for a moment, Christnagel darted out and grabbed his halter rope. In the next five minutes or so, with the help of the interns, the horse staggered to his feet and urinated.

The owner came in. “He got up pretty quick,” Tracey told her with a straight face. As the owner cooed baby talk to the horse, her husband waited outside the stall with a resigned look. He rolled his eyes at me and said, “It’s out of control. One time during a storm, she wanted to bring him into the basement, and I said, ‘That is not gonna happen.’ ”

Next: What happened to the struggling foal in ICU? Plus, an emergency phone call for an already-exhausted vet.

Note: If you're coming to Lexington for the World Equestrian Games, author Leslie Guttman will be signing copies of Equine ER throughout the competition. More details to come. If you want to reach Leslie in regard to Equine ER, now in a second printing, email equineer@leslieguttman.com. Thanks for reading this blog.