Moms Who Make Our Lives…

Our cheerleaders come in all sizes, but are most often sticky handed, Oshkosh bedecked and under three feet tall.  They shout encouragement while kneeling upon white plastic chairs in the viewing deck, and look-up from impromptu soccer games on the nearby lawn to wave to brothers and sisters riding by on the trail.  Though lacking pompoms and kick pleats, these pint-sized spirit leaders accomplish their goal; they make those they’re cheering for feel special.

Part of this blog’s effort is not only to share our thoughts and experiences, but those of our patient’s families.  Each of NCEFT’s staff members has a unique background that colors our daily interactions.  From firsthand experience living with a sibling with a terminal neuromuscular diagnosis, to suffering the loss of a loved one who’s left us too soon, we all come to the table with a different set of eyes.  The one experience we can’t personally attest to is that of being the parent to a special needs child.  When the opportunity to sit down with one such NCEFT parent presented itself, we jumped at the chance to hear how our facility has affected their son.

It was during the evolution of that conversation we came to a singular conclusion.  Though as adults we may praise the physical and cognitive benefits of hippotherapy and adaptive riding, from this parent’s perspective, the greatest benefit to his son is something much different.  “My son is eight-years-old, has Down syndrome, and has been coming to NCEFT […] for more than five years. His visits to NCEFT are unquestionably the highlight of his week.”

DM (we’re using initials to maintain his privacy) likely can’t remember a life that hasn’t included regular visits with his four-legged friends.  First a patient in our hippotherapy program, he’s since graduated to adaptive riding lessons.  He rolls up each week in style, riding proudly atop his Dad’s shoulders as they head over to grab his helmet.  Often running up the mounting block steps, it’s clear how much “he loves ’his’ horse, Valentine.”

Unless it’s pouring rain, or tornado force winds are ripping through the trees, DM makes sure to fit in a leisurely ride on the sensory trail.  It’s the same each week, he huddles down over Valentine’s neck, head buried in a mane so thick it can’t seem to decide which side to fall on.  His sidewalkers hunch over and tiptoe as quietly as possible across the short stretch of pavement that connects arena and trail.  “DM?”  his Dad faithfully calls out, “DM where’d you go?” Feigning ignorance of his son slinking by behind him—and the giggles coming unbidden from the boy’s mouth—his Dad spins in confusion on the viewing deck.  The group continues their stealthy march until they reach the dirt path, whereupon they dissolve into laughter, celebrating another successful escapade.  “There you are,” Dad exclaims, “Where are you going?  Hey, don’t you have any fun out there,” he jokes, fists on his hips.

It’s interactions like these that go so far towards illustrating the ease with which DM interacts with horses.  His Dad believes these lessons have “increase[ed] his overall comfort level, his sense of self and help[ed] him understand more about the care and proper treatment of animals.”  Many of us could likely benefit from improved sense of self, and who among us doesn’t feel special when we’re singled out for something unique.  DM’s Dad  feels like horseback riding is this unique activity.  “Every Friday when he leaves school a few minutes before the end of the day, all his classmates know he’s off to go riding, and many tell him to say hello to Valentine for them. He takes a lot of pride and gets a real sense of contentment from all the positive attention he gets from his peers.”

So, back to the cheerleaders; back to the brothers and sisters, friends, volunteers, and staff who suspend their lives for a moment.  They pause in their work or their games and looking up, find time to wave.  “So, for other parents considering […] hippotherapy or adaptive riding, I would certainly encourage them.  Our experience has been entirely positive, not only for our son, but for our entire family.  We appreciate everything the folks at NCEFT do, and the bonds we’ve built with the staff and volunteers.  They clearly love our son just as much as he loves them.”

Thanks to DM’s Dad for taking the time to sit down with us.  If you’ve got a unique story or perspective you’d like to share with NCEFT, please send ideas and submissions to Shayna@NCEFT.org