Out of respect for the privacy of Trent Hendricks and his family I have not blogged anything about the truly awful events of the previous ten days. Trent is someone who values his privacy a lot, and is someone who seems to only show his face in public when he thinks that there is no alternative but to step up to the plate and be seen. So last Monday when his wife Rachel rushed him to the hospital after he became delirious with fever and pain, I wrote nothing about it.
However, yesterday Trent returned to his farm, and even though he probably should have just flopped into bed, pulled the blankets over his head and turned off the world, he went into his office and sent out a newsletter explaining what happened to him. So now I feel like it's okay to tell you what happened.
A few months ago one of his white quarter horses (I don't know for sure, but it might have been the one in the photo.) kicked him in the shin. The bruise was horrible and the swelling seemed to me to take forever to subside. For a while it looked like he was going to be fine, but then he did something that introduced staphylococcus bacteria into the wound. Over a period of about two weeks, an abscess formed leaking bacteria into his bloodstream. Eventually, the pain was so intense that he actually complained (Dude never complains, never.) and had to be medicated. When Rachel realized that the pain meds she had in the house were not working, she took him to the hospital where he was diagnosed with a life-threatening staph infection.
Anyway, it flips me out to think that Trent almost bought the farm. The man's a dad with five beautiful kids, a fine wife and life partner and a set of parents that anyone would be proud to know -let alone be related to. He's also a great friend to me and a visionary steward of the the land and plants and animals who is really only at the beginning of his tenure. When I think about what might have happened last week, it makes me weak.
Welcome back Trent, we were worried.