How AgrAbility & Vocational Rehab Keep Me Safe while Working on the Farm

     In late 2014, I attended a Women in Ag conference in Columbia, MO that was hosted by the MU Extension called Pearls of Production.  One of the extension reps was speaking with me about my disabilities and gave me a contact from their AgrAbility program. 

     That was the best call I could have made for myself.   The Missouri AgrAbility program has helped me continue to work on our farms in a more safe and creative manner. 

     Their mission: The purpose of the AgrAbility Project is to help increase the likelihood that farmers, ranchers, farm workers, and farm family members who are limited by any type of disability or chronic health condition employed in production agriculture or agriculture-related occupations become more successful. It’s about cultivating success in agriculture, employment, and rural life for people with disabilities and their families. The AgrAbility mission is to enhance and protect quality of life and preserve livelihoods. The AgrAbility philosophy represents the very ideals that define American agriculture. It’s about supporting and promoting growth and independence. It’s about no-limit thinking and the can-do spirit. Ultimately, AgrAbility is all about hope!

     I agree with their mission statement wholeheartedly because I have seen it in action.  

     They partner with your local Vocational Rehabilitation  to find ways to keep you employed and should you need special equipment to do this, Vocational Rehab contributes greatly with that factor. 

     Both organizations are passionate about ensuring we can still be independent, their job is to assess how to do that. 

     They travel to your farm, you take them through your daily chores, the reps ask questions and offer advice of better, safer ways to accomplish the same task. 

     In my case, special equipment was suggested to keep me out of harms way when working with our cattle.  One piece of equipment that has been essential to my safety is a UTV with a grain feeder that sits in the bed.  We have installed a switch inside of the cab to open the feeder door, I pull up beside the bunks and let 'er rip until I reach the end and am assured I have the correct amount of feed distributed.

     Now there is no way to absolutely measure the amount of feed unless you only put that amount into the portable grain bin, but I have been feeding 150 lbs of grain to these heifers for so long, I had to practice a few times so I could gauge timing and how high to raise the bin door.   

     Not once do I have to exit the vehicle and put myself in any danger.  If you are new to my blog, I have severe, permanent lower body injuries from a car collision and three of my joints are now fused. My balance is an issue and my lower legs are delicate.  I, in no way want to be re-injured, but I love my job. 

      This Polaris Ranger keeps me from being bumped over by cows, I do not have to walk on uneven ground, especially over frozen hoof prints and there are no calf hooves flying in my direction.  It has been the most essential piece of equipment I have received. 

     There are some other pieces I will show you in later blogs, but today I wanted to concentrate on the UTV. 

     Here are a few videos to showcase how I use this little masterpiece.  I urge you to contact either of these organizations to help in your farming career!

National AgrAbility 
MO AgrAbility
Vocational Rehab
Rolla, MO VR     

Chronic Pain? Redux-it!

     Any of us with chronic pain knows that there is not one "cure all" out there.  We use many different forms of pain relief products to ease our ailments.  

     Rarely do I use prescription medication for reprieve, but sometimes it is just a necessity to stay ahead of the heavy discomfort before it turns to agony.  


 I will never, ever stop using my Medicine Springs Mineral Therapy to soak my arthritic body.  It is good stuff!  This is especially beneficial to me in the cold, winter months when my body seizes up.  A good hot soak in the tub can lighten the aches enough to bring me back from the edge and it's producers are pretty fun folks to be around also!

     Always searching for natural alleviation because I do not want my body riddled with the toxins of other products, I came across this cream on Instagram. Redux-It 
If I may speak honestly, I was pessimistic about trying another cream or ointment.  When you have severe daily pain, you need a product that works and not just claims to work or works on a level of pain that is not the norm.  

     Looking at the ingredients and reviews, I actually approached this company for more information.  They offered to send me a jar for trial.  Not wanting to pass on a product that I hadn't given an adequate amount of time using, I opted to use for an entire month before giving my opinion.  

     I didn't need that long to make a confirmation, but I stuck to my guns to see what extended use would result in.  This is cream is the BOMB!  With any cream, you cannot be stingy with application and follow. the. directions!  

     I did just that and exactly like the Mineral Therapy,
 my face before looked like this : 


and as I felt it's effects work their
magic, my face became a pleasant 
surprise of: Ohhhhhh, that's niiiiicce! 

    It wasn't long before I was back to my old self enough that I could than have an emoji like this:

     I realize I enjoy putting a humorous effect in my writing, but I would never pass on a product to you that I did not believe in or does not work for my situation. 

     Most of you understand how significant the trauma to my body is and the significant amount of pain that I try to decrease on a daily basis, so if I say it works, I truly mean it. 

     I keep a jar of Redux-It in my purse to use in place of popping another pill and obviously I can't just take a bath in Mineral Therapy  salts at one of my kids sporting events, so this is a great alternative to normal toxic pain relievers. 

       Both of these products are not just for health issue pain alleviation.  Use them for soreness from playing sports, working out or if you woke up with a stiff neck or back.  Or like Julie, cut an entire truck load of wood!

Just in time for my blog post, Redux-it is offering a coupon that lasts through Friday! Don't miss out!  If this is ever a time to give a new product a try at a huge discount, this is it.  Click on any of the links in this blog or below to their direct website!

Redux-It Website

Driving by my "Moment in Time"

It is mid-March, I am pale from never leaving the confines of my home and cabin fever has taken its toll on me.  Grocery shopping needs to be done, my husband suggests I accompany him and see how I feel while riding in the front seat.  Then we will be able to gauge how often I can make trips from home.   It is certainly a hassle to transport me because I am of no help getting into and out of our truck, but my man never complains.

As we head to Cuba, Missouri, just twelve minutes from our home, my heart clenches as my husband does not turn left towards the interstate, instead continuing to drive on the outer road, knowing we will drive the exact route of our collision.

 I have never questioned him about this decision, although I do wonder if this was an oversight or his way of urging me to overcome this obstacle.

Passing the turn off, I mentioned that I was becoming nervous due to the direction we were traveling.  Instinctively, he reached for my hand, holding, caressing my clammy skin the entire drive.  Not being clear on exactly where our desecrated pile of metal landed, Greg softly said, “Right here.” 

My eyes moved to the right side of the road, the scene looking different in the

daylight as our wreck happened under the cloak of darkness.  Railroad tracks, pine trees, pain.  Three vague memories create an ache deep within my heart.  That night, the impact, our girls quivering voices brings a heaviness to my broken soul.  Throwing me into a silent, lonely place filled with immense heavy sadness.  Each time pained thoughts of this chaos chisel through my protective wall, it overwhelms me with these emotions and I wonder how long it will take my spirit to heal.

Quietly, slowly bringing in long, deep breaths as we pass the spot in mere seconds, my body releases as if it broke from a fever.  Reaching our destination, I release my grip on Greg’s hand, rip my jacket off due to the profuse sweating happening underneath and announce, “We made it.”    

Just a week later we again headed to Cuba, but this time night has fallen.  We were attending a fundraiser my family had organized for us.  

Before I knew what was happening, I was staring into a huge set of white head lights passing by us.  Mesmerized by their intensity, my eyes becoming huge, my breathing stopped, reliving the impact at that exact moment.  As the truck was equal distance to ours, my head jerked hard to my right just as it did when we were hit that frigid evening.  Quickly realizing I was staring out my own window, we were not actually colliding and that this was just a flashback, I forced my heartbeat to slow. 

Eyes tightly squeezed shut, softly I urged,  “Greg, I need to travel more at night, to get over these feelings that I have.  I did not realize I still have so much anxiety about traveling in the dark.” 

Although this is my first expedition into the night, it would not be my last flashback under these circumstances.  If I conquered this episode of apprehension and survived to tell it, surely I could conquer the ones to come.


My largest challenge is just that, challenging myself too hard, too early.

Stronger than Yesterday FB

That Black Angus Bastardo............

     I had a run in with our youngest bull, not my first, but my closest so far.  All turned out well, neither one of us is hurt, unless you count my look that could kill, but I do not get the impression he was disgruntled by that.

     Always being prepared, with my guard up is the only reason I was able to escape him.  Plus, he had tried the same action just the day before, therefore my eyes were peeled for him and I knew my escape route.

     First let me apologize for the curse word I am using for him.   Knee deep into a Ralph Compton, western book series with tales of long, arduous cattle drives and Spanish speaking Indians, I somehow feel that if I say it like the men in this story say it, then it doesn’t really count.  In Spanish it doesn’t seem as curse-wordy.

We first brought this beautiful slab of beef home when he was just a wee little guy.  He was hot and ready to work, day and night if need be.

     Once when walking to the feed bunk, I noticed that look in his shiny black eye, his left one to be precise and I knew.  That black bastardo was going to kick me.  Always carrying a five-gallon bucket of feed between myself and our livestock, his hard hoof planted on the plastic that I was carrying instead of my tender flesh.  Never having another altercation for an entire year, I was a little perplexed when for the last month he developed a little of a “tude”.

     One more thing.  Do not label me as racist for calling him black.  It’s a descriptive word and I feel those who do not know Angus cattle may not understand there are also red Angus cattle.  Now you have an image to go with this story.

     Back to cattle drama.  Each day I don my custom braces while working on the farm to increase my stability because of my fused ankles.  Sixty-two (my name for our bull because of ear tag) had developed a habit of closing the gate to his feed lot, cutting himself off from grain.  It swings one way and each time I tied the metal barrier open, the next day, as sure as the sun shines, this hunk of muscle has broken what I thought was my solution.

He’s still young, maybe he was entertaining himself or maybe he was being an ornery male.  Here’s where it gets a little precarious.  The gate has to swing outward and he must walk around it, enter the alley and ambulate to his feed bunk.  He is big, clumsy and impatient.  Not understanding he must wait for the gate to open wider than his chiseled flanks, he would inadvertently get himself caught in between the gate and pipe fencing or close the gate again.  I tried and tried, but he was not a thinker, he was a reproducer and it was showing.  It was also wearing on my own patience.

 

   Standing at the end of the gate where it met the pipe fencing, I would hold it open while he pushed past the other end.  With just enough time, I could climb to the top rung and watch him stride past me.  Usually with his nose in the air snubbing me.  After the second day of this he came to the fence to flare his huge, wet nostrils at me, pace three times back and forth in front of my perched self before deciding his growling stomach was more important.

     Not enjoying this experience and wondering what the heck tightened up his bung hole, I made a pack with myself, for my safety.  If the same scenario happened one more time, Carey would not feed this moody beast.

     You know it’s always that next time, isn’t it?  Next day, gate closed, I hold it open and begin climbing to the top rung of the fence.  This day he was again not patient, but he was not clumsy either.  It’s like he mastered a martial arts class in one night and became as agile the Karate Kid during his last tournament. 

He was coming for me, eyes not wavering, focused on me.  I was the only thing that existed for him.  Almost to the top rung, his head dips down only to raise up swiftly.  Already having my right leg over the fence, I pull my bent left leg higher as his massive hard head catches under my knee and there I go.  Like an awkward ballerina flying through the air, trying to catch a glimpse of him but yelling to the blue sky and white clouds, “ Youuuuu Bastardoooooo!”

     Apparently my left hand still encompassed the metal piping, pulling hard, I righted myself in mid-air and came down feet first.  Having mentally prepared for any fall, I hijacked my right knee to my arm pit, knowing I will do anything not to land on my right foot, I put that left foot down and waited for the sting to ride up my leg as I landed.

     Holding my breath, bending forward, riding out the wave of fire traveling up to my knee, I turn my head slightly to the left as I look between the rusty pipe fencing, only to see a smirk on this muscle butt’s face as he says, “Booyah”.

Recovering more quickly than I thought it would take, I straighten up while muttering incomprehensible words at not only Sixty-two, but myself.  “You win; I’m not messing with you anymore.  I’m done.  Wait ‘til Dad gets home,”, I spat.

     I challenge myself daily, prepare before entering any situation and am constantly aware of my surroundings, due to my situation and career I choose to work in.  This day is the reasoning behind that.  It is also the reason that there are times I must accept that some jobs cannot be mine.  Usually taking a few times to find a creative alternative doesn’t always pan out, as in this case. 

Giving it my best shot, I admit, it is in my best interest if I keep a pipe fence between myself and this black Angus bastardo. 

WINNER: Sixty-two.

Amberley Snyder-Using Her Tragedy to Change the World

     Early in 2015,  a suggestion from Instagram guided me to follow a pretty spectacular cowgirl based on others that were already in my news feed.  Instinctively, wanting to know more, I hit "Follow" and began to read her story.  Miss Amberley Snyder.  An hour later I knew this woman was going places and quickly. 
  

  

 Watching her online audience explode the rest of the year has been exhilarating.   Promptly feeling a kinship with this young woman, I scoured the web to find any speaking event of hers that was located near me.  

   


  
There are snippets of her presentation online, but I wanted to see it, more so I wanted to 

feel it.  We enjoy the same activities, both started riding horses at the age of three, both of us experienced tragedy and were now speaking of it publicly.  What I really desired was a one on one.

 

   It just so happens that my friend, farming partner and the FFA adviser of Bourbon High School felt so enraptured with her testimony at the National FFA Convention last Fall that he brought her to Missouri to speak at three of our local schools and asked if I would like to spend the day with them.   That message was sent by text so he didn't hear my artless snorts of, " Well Yeah!"

   


  Listening to her message and watching her influence decisions

that day, anyone could plainly see she was made to provoke thoughts.  She moved and spoke with ease, calling attention to ability, motivation and attitude.

     Enjoying a lunch between speaking events, I quietly studied this vision of motivation.  She has a beautiful, contagious smile for anyone who crosses her path, but it was the genuine look in her eyes that hooked me as a fan for life.  She has a naturally, honest heart of a cowgirl with a side dish of sass. 

      I enjoyed her company, I admire her fight, I praise and respect her ability to share and I loudly applaud her for "getting back on that horse."  I urge you to read her story and use it as you need for your own growth.

    


 Her positiveness is palpable.  She will continue to crush her life's challenges, succeed in influencing others and I know I will watch her compete in her dream rodeos.  I am but a minnow in her sea of followers, but I will be cheering just as loudly as the next at her new found accomplishments.   






     We all wish you well in your upcoming endeavors and will remind ourselves of your equation to prosperity. 

Ability +Motivation +Attitude=SUCCESS

     

     (Amberley's photo)

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A Journal to my Heart

      Just like my blog, I've started, stopped, started again and I feel that now is when my heart is telling me it is time to write a book. 

     Rather than surprise you when it is written and done, I would like to take you on this part of my journey.  As you have been with me during my emotional recovery, I cannot leave you out of this nor would I want to.

     You. Complete Me. 

     I am serious about this, but I cannot help but to always slip some kind of humor in my writing.  It's dry, I know, but I hope someone besides myself just laughed at that joke!

   

 This will be difficult to write about, unearthing all of those emotions that are always on the surface of my soul that have been tucked away as a reminder of where I have started, but at some point in my story those difficult times turn to astounding progress.

     As you travel with me, you will feel my heavy heart lighten, strive with determination and explode with achievement.  And I could not have done it without you.

     You are my rock, you are my anchor  and I give you my story in book form. 

     Who knows when I will finish, time is not my purpose, but the person who emerges as I finish, is. 

     

Footprints in the Sand

        I was becoming moody.  Three months had passed since our collision.  Having decreased my narcotic dose, I was more lucid, which allowed me to remember more of my daily pain.  Misery was normal.  Moodiness came from lowering my narcotic consumption and frustration of not being able to accomplish what  I want to do each day. 

      I had never sat this much in my life.  My mind would not let me focus to read, I stared at the tv without hearing it.  I was exhausted from healing, I was bored, I couldn't drive, I couldn't leave my house on my own, I couldn't do much at all without help.  

     I was pissed about it. 

      Dependency is not my personality.  Greg sat with me and explained this is the third time I had gone through this phase of frustration.  Remembering this time only, I was stunned by his confession.  

     I did not go around the house screaming or throwing things, but my family could sense how irritable I was.  I did not want to talk, I did not want to be alone, but I did not want to be around anyone at the same time.   I just wanted to stand up! 

     Limbo, is where I was swinging right then.  We did not know if I would walk well or when.  We did not know if my ankles would hold me or how long.  We did not know how long the actual healing was going to take.  We did not know much, except that I was surviving. 

      Reminding myself of this often helped me work through my days.  I am grateful that I am alive.  I do not want to give up the life God granted.  Somehow I had to work through this and learn patience.  Please God, grant me the patience.  

     Greg and I spoke at length about how I could find peace with dependency until I could do things on my own.  I could see it was wearing on him.  He'd gotten upset only once, at least that's all that I can remember and I believe I am the one that pushed him.  

     Knowing that I do not know what I am saying most of the time requires great understanding from him.  He is my living angel.  He has patience, understanding, a thick skin and a love for me that carries us all.  I hold onto his strength so tightly that I hope that I do not drain it from him completely.  

     Thoughts of how well I was going to recover were constantly boring their way into my mind.  I desperately wanted Greg to understand my thoughts, feelings, all of these emotions swirling their way around inside of me.  He is unbelievably compassionate, but I see in his deep, brown eyes, a lack of full comprehension.  

     He's cannot fully understand because he experienced a different side of this tragedy.  It is not fair of me to get upset by this.  I felt I was at my lowest, saddest point in recovery. If it hurt this terribly to sit, it was going to be more excruciating to stand.  Maybe it would be better to stay in the wheelchair.....  Maybe it would be better to remove my right lower leg.....  Anything had to be better than what I was going through at that time. 

      Explaining to him that I felt like I was going through this part alone, he softly says that while we were in the hospital he read a phrase in the hospital gift shop and would like to recite it to me. 

      Holding my hands loosely in his, he looks tenderly at me, "Carey, you are asking me why you feel alone during your weakest moments and I think this is your answer.  The quote said,  

"Why, during my hardest times was there only one set of footprints in the sand?"  God answered, "You were not alone.  That is when I was carrying you, when you were not strong enough to carry yourself." 

  I stared, awestruck at him, lips parted, eyes wide with understanding.  I could not believe how true those words rang.  Greg's timing with that phrase was impeccable.  I could only sit there and allow that to sink in as my admiration for my husband grew.   

     He kneels on the floor beside my wheelchair and caresses my hand.  He says softly, sympathetically, "I can't fix this part for you Carey.  You cannot take the idea of being vulnerable and depending on others to take care of your needs, I can sense this."  

     "You feel guilty and it's causing a great deal of frustration.  Let us take care of you and make yourself a priority for once in your life.  I don't just love you Carey, I adore you." 

      I'm sobbing at his words, he is spot on.  "Carey, you haven't cried about what has happened, not once.  Just cry and let it all out," he begs.  I sobbed on his shoulder until I could sob no more.  

Asshole of the Day!

     Two weeks ago, on a Thursday, I was leaving an appointment an hour from my home when I pulled into a well known fast food establishment.  Already disappointed that this drive through was the last  place I could stop before making the trip back home, I pulled up and both lanes were full of travelers in the same predicament as I. 

   

 It was not a healthy choice and it was busy.  As my turn to speak into the intercom to place my order approached, I noticed there was a pretty long line behind me as well. 

       Sitting in the outside lane, I pulled up and waited for the inner lane to progress so I could merge into the pick up line. Unable to move but a few feet, I hear a female voice radiate from the speaker asking if she could take the next cars order. 

     For a reason unknown to me, I left my window rolled down even though it was only twenty degrees outside and I hear a male voice bark, " If this asshole in front of me would pull up, I'd love to order!"  WTH?

     My lips parted and my eyes opened wide and instinctively I stuck my head out the window and looked behind me, only to have my mouth gape wide open and I now looked incredulously at the car behind me with bug eyes.  WTH?

     For there was a man and his wife that were most definitely in their seventies staring back at ME.  They were talking about ME!  Never, ever, ever has the term "asshole" been directed at me before, at least within my ear shot. 

     Looking ahead of me, I pull up the six inches between myself and a woman driving a brand new Tahoe, only to get a look of WTH? from her!  I am now cursing an elderly man and his elderly wife for having such nasty, impatient attitudes, effectively working myself into a offended tizzy. 

     Approaching the payment window, viewing them in my rear view mirror, I decide that I didn't care if they were ordering for the entire Jeff City football team, I was going to pay for their lunch!  I am "kind of" going to take the high road that even if I couldn't do anything about the dang drive through line, I was going to make an attempt to brighten their day, even if it was somewhat out of spite.  Or a lot out of spite. 

     Smiling as I was handing my debit card to the ladies on

the opposite side of the window, I instruct them that this "asshole" would like to pay for the "gentleman's" order behind me.  Humored shock crossed their faces as they both burst out with "awww, good for you for honey".   Yeah, yeah, high road.

     Driving away, I hear a couple of honks paired with a big wave from the gray haired couple to the rear of me.  Instead of flying my free bird, I also give a big wave to accept their thank you.  

     Pulling back onto the highway, my thoughts were of hoping they learned a lesson of patience and kindness because it really was no fault of my own.  

     Then I speculated that it was a good possibility that they were thinking they were the ones who taught ME a lesson.   So I was like, WTH?

 whatever.

     

     
     

The Healing Powers of Medicine Springs Minerals

     Having written and spoke of the many natural measures that I use for pain relief, I have to share my most important resource. 

     Hidden deep in the Montana mountains there is a natural spring that produces minerals that help to alleviate aches and pains.  They help to the point that I most often use these minerals in place of any prescribed narcotic.    Still using my Curamin each day, the minerals can be an immediate pain reducer as well as be used for maintenance.

 (insert self here!)

   This past summer I was able to visit the spring at the Wallis KbarL Ranch in Montana and meet the creators of this powerful product.   Not only were they immediately in my family's hearts forever, they were knowledgeable beyond measure about their minerals and their effects. 

     For those that do not know, I have severe bone and joint damage from a car crash five years ago.  I am left with end stage traumatic arthritis and will only used strong pain medications when absolutely necessary.  Having many years left to live with my condition, I do not want to put a liver transplant on my list of upcoming surgeries.  The minerals also have powers to ease eczema and psoriasis as well!

      Using these minerals correctly is essential.  I have no idea if I could not read adequately through my pain filled vision or if it is just the effects of living with four teenagers that I did not comprehend the directions.  
 When Julie (Medicine Springs owner) instructed me that I was indeed using them incorrectly, I pork chopped my own forehead and thought, " If they work that well only using half of the recommended dosage, I can't imagine what I will feel like with a full dosage!"  I must also note that having the bath water at a high enough temperature is also relevant to ease discomfort


     I asked Julie to write a guest blog explaining how her and her husband Brandon became to  understand and create this product and her story is below:

"Medicine Springs is an all new concept in mineral health.  Turning your bath tub or hot tub into a mineral hot spring!  
Medicine Springs spawned from a necessity 5 years ago.  Brandon’s mom Brenda has painful arthritis and cannot close her hands.  On a vacation Brenda was sitting in a geothermal mineral hot spring and noticed she could close her hands and the pain was gone!  
Very excited about how these natural mineral springs provided such relief, she mentioned on her return that she wished she could put that water in her hot tub and bathtub.  This began the quest to bring this relief home and Medicine Springs was born. 

 Brandon and his wife Julie took chemical analysis of the most healing natural springs to be found anywhere in the world including the actual Medicine Springs on the K Bar L Ranch.  They brought these results home, removed the water, separated the compounds, isolated the reactions packaged it. 
 This allows anybody to turn his or her bathtub or hot tub into a world famous healing mineral spring!  Through their analysis and research they learned these springs have been used for their healing properties for thousands of years, but up until now the power of these springs has 
never been harnessed.  

They learned of the multiple conditions helped by these springs and created 3 varieties of Medicine Springs product.  They started with an Arthritis and Fibromyalgia blend calling it “Joint”.  They then went on and created a skin blend for Eczema, Psoriasis, and acne called “Skin”, based off of the Blue Lagoon of Iceland.  The final blend created was one for soreness and fatigue based on a spring ancient warriors used to use after battle to heal the ailments of war, knowing this would be perfect for modern day athletes, they called it “Sport”.  

They are extremely proud of what they have created and believe they have the opportunity to help others the way this helped Brandon’s mom.  They originally did not intend to sell it, but after researching and learning hot springs were used for their beneficial purposes for thousands of years and giving it away at race for the cure and to several wounded warriors, the results were compelling enough they knew we needed to get this out there for others to use! 
 Medicine Springs is the only company in the world to “Harness the Geothermal Healing Powers of Mother Nature”.  You can find them at www.medicinesprings.com, or on their Facebook page under Medicine Springs Mineral Therapy."

     Isn't that a great story behind a wonderful product?  Since most of you are unable to travel to the mineral spring itself, this is the best alternative.

    Brandon and Julie are true "Montanans".  We enjoyed our time spent with them and it feels pretty cool to know the personalities behind a product that I use.   I have been able to visually perceive and hear the passion in their voices, how deeply they care about helping others with their pain management; in a natural way. 

     To check out their website and order click here: Medicine Springs 
     To contact them about bringing their product to your business: Email at    info@medicinesprings.com    or click here to be taken to their Contact Page.

     But most of all, try it and share it!

     
 *if you would like to visit the springs themselves contact them via their web page: Contact Wallis KbarL

Strong Testimonies about Choices

     Each presentation that I give has a main focus and that is choices.  More specifically, that our choices can and most often do affect someone other than ourselves. 

   

 This past October, during Red Ribbon Week, I asked a friend of mine to give her personal testimony to one of our local high schools reliving the emotional details about the evening she heard siren after siren after siren speed past her house.  Then having her suspicions confirmed.  

     She had relived those moments for me once before, but sitting beside her in a gymnasium as she recalled the specifics had me swallowing sobs that desperately wanted to escape. 

      She relayed the story about two other mutual friends that she was in constant contact with during those hours of extraction and  transportation of myself and my two daughters.  Those two friends also agreed to write a few paragraphs as their personal testimony for my blog today. 

     Jen Harmon:
"The night that I learned of Carey’s car accident I was in shock. It was one of those moments that was hard to even comprehend what was happening. My mind started flipping through every memory I had of being with her and I couldn’t make myself believe that the person I had become friends with was possibly gone forever. I didn’t believe it was real, I didn’t see how it could be real, I didn’t want to accept that it could be real."

"I started making phone calls, sending text messages and searching Facebook for information but there were no clear, factual answers to be given. I heard that there was a fatality and at that time, I didn’t even know if there was another vehicle involved so I began to worry that my worst nightmare was proving to be true. I continued to make calls but was told many different stories ranging from rumors of her losing her legs to her being transported by helicopter to St. Louis but was not expected to live.  It was one of the most helpless feelings I have ever had."

"I struggled with whether I should go to the hospital or not. I knew there were going to be so many people there and felt that I would probably just be in the way. I chose to stay home and wait. I held my phone in my hand everywhere I went – not knowing if I wanted it to ring or not for fear of what I would be told if it did."

"One night I just started texting her. I assumed she had lost her phone in the accident, but I continued to send them anyway. I didn’t know if she would ever get to read them but it was the only thing I could do. I had no control over what was going to happen but I could at least tell her that I was thinking of her and praying that she would come back to us."

"Finally, one night as I held my phone in my hand while lying on my couch my phone chimed. I can’t explain the feeling I got when I looked down and saw that the text I had just received was from Carey. It honestly felt like God had just come and placed her right into my arms. She later told me that she didn’t remember sending me that text or even talking to me later that week. But I do - and it will always be one of the most amazing, miraculous days in my life. "

    








   Lisa Gansner:
 "I will never forget that wintry December night.  I had an odd feeling that night…couldn’t explain what…but things just didn’t seem right.  
It was a Wednesday night…and I didn’t go to the studio as Carey taught that ZUMBA class."

  "About 5 minutes before class started, my phone rang…that sick feeling came in my stomach and my head knew….and my heart knew..something was happening.  It was the girls at the studio., asking if class was cancelled?" 

 "Carey hadn’t arrived..and we all knew that never happened.  If she wasn’t able to show, which she NEVER cancelled..she would always say something.  I knew when I was dialing her number, a sickness continued in my heart and stomach.  I left message after message." 

 "As I was on the phone with the girls at the studio, they heard sirens…our heart sunk and tears whelped up as we knew..it wasn’t a fear…we knew it had to be her.  Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined the extent….and as I learned about the seriousness, all the emergency personnel traveling..the great amount of emergency personnel, the Face Book posts, I just prayed. And prayed.  And prayed." 

 "I will never forget that night.  Feeling helpless, prayerful, wishing I could do something, wishing I could be an angel in the sky giving her strength, so scared for my dear friend, knowing something horrible had happened and just praying with all my might that she would live…breathe…."

"As those next months continued, watching her struggle and watching her overcome so many obstacles, yet wishing I could take all the pain away.  Wishing that night had never happened.  I can’t imagine what it is like to be in Carey’s shoes.  I know God has such a great purpose for her.  She touches and inspires so many before and NOW…it is so evident his purpose for her." 
 "I feel so blessed that it was NOT his plan to have her join the angels and to let us continue to enjoy her, her spirit, her personality and all she is."  
"I love you Carey and feel so blessed to call you my dear friend and thankful God has blessed us with you for a longer time.  Thank you for who you are and what you stand for.  You are such an amazing model to others and me daily.  When I feel like complaining selfishly about things, I think of you often and say…”No way I can complain…look what SHE overcame…I can overcome anything too! “

"Our Choices Matter"