The Scare in Lobuche

So I waited to post this one until I was actually home so as not to alarm anyone. What started out as one of my best days of trekking ended up scaring the shit out of me by bedtime.

After our acclimatization days in Dingboche, we set off on the path to Lobuche on an absolutely clear and sunny morning and the path seemed more gradual than previous days (photo--that's me walking!), passing a beautiful lake on the way (photo). We all knew what we were in for today though, a gain of about 2,000 feet by the day's end. It is recommended that you don't gain more than 1,000 ft per day at this elevation but most people jump from Dingboche to Lobuche after an extra night in Dingboche because there is no other place to really comfortably overnight. We all took it easy and went at a decent pace but some of us were really dragging by lunch time. The photo of Andy with his head in his hands, above, is from lunch. He could barely take the smell of the food, let alone eat it. I had one of my worst night's sleep the night before in Dingboche (approx. 2 hours total all night long?) and by the time we stopped for lunch 3 hours later, I just wanted to lay down. A tarp was spread on the ground, one of the few times our meal was not taken at a teahouse. There were many items for lunch that day but we all remember the main dish was a delicious noodle soup. God, it was good! It turned us from zombies into actually having quite a bit of energy. There was fruit too, another welcome menu item. And I remember having so much Tang to drink just to hydrate as much as possible, that I probably ingested a gallon of it. After lunch was another prolonged, steep climb but we all had much more purpose in our step. At the top of this incline at Lobuche Pass was the flat area with the chortens, cairns, and memorials for climbers who have died on Everest. It is a beautiful but sobering area with prayer flags whipping in the wind and trekkers resting in the sun. There are hundreds of memorials (photo) and one of the larger ones is for Scott Fischer (photo). As I've mentioned in a previous post, Scott was one of the founders of Mountain Madness, one of the lead guides who died in the storm on Everest in 1996, chronicled in Into Thin Air. We all had our photo taken next to the memorial and sat for a while to reflect on the climbers who had died, the families they left behind, and the draw of the mountains sitting before us. We continued uphill, lost in our thoughts. Trees and any kind of greenery or vegetation disappeared thousands of feet ago, just above Namche. Here it is all glacial rock in the Khumbu valley. Chris likened our steps to walking on softballs. How true. When we reached Lobuche at 16, 200 feet, I actually felt strong and content and pleased with my effort for the day. We took tea and biscuits at 4pm and watched the temperature drop in the dining hall every 5 minutes or so after the sun set for the day. The rooms and beds were pretty nice and the plywood walls seemed thicker than the other places. There was even a "night" toilet inside (which had the loudest door squeak ever, by the way) and a designated stainless steel sink to brush your teeth and wash your hands in! Im not sure why we called Lobuche "The Palace", but it did seem a little nicer than some of the other places we stayed. After dinner I was just really calm and happy about the day and even had the want to stay up and read at the dinner table with a few people, while others played cards with the sherpa staff. 30 minutes into reading, out of nowhere, I was overcome by severe nausea and dizziness so bad I thought I was going to fall off my chair. I couldnt put my finger on what was happening to me. What could be wrong? I had felt so good and strong since we'd arrived! 5 minutes ago I was conversing and laughing and enjoying the evening, and now...? And then the wheezing and crackling started in my lungs. I happened to be sitting next to our guide Deana, and though I fully did not want to say anything about what was happeneing to me in that moment, I grabbed her arm and hesitantly described my symptoms. My worst fear being that I've made it this far-- I am 1500 vertical feet away from Base Camp, my life's dream,-- and she is going to tell me that I have to descend! Without missing a beat, she told me its classic altitude sickness. I said, that can't be, I had a really strong day, I felt great just 5 minutes ago! She explained that its very typical that the problems appear when you are at rest, usually 4-8 hours later. We had been warned about it happening in the middle of the night, but I was still shocked that I was sitting there reading one minute, and the next minute feeling like I was literally going to die. That was the night I started taking the Diamox/AMS medication. I also took a shot off of my inhaler and tried to calm myself down with music from my ipod. My body was shaking because I was so anxious that she would send me down to a lower elevation to correct my symptoms. I was upset and scared even contemplating the idea. Deana was wary of the wheezing turning into Pulmonary Edema, and frankly, I didn't want to even let myself go there. There was a definite possibility that my lungs would compromise what I had set out to do. That night I propped my big duffel under my head and shoulders and slept upright to help me breathe better. I hydrated intensely throughout the night. I restarted my ipod over and over on the same calm playlist. I willed myself to get through the night. I kept thinking of the people who would tell me to suck it up and it'll be ok. And when the sunlight lit up the room in the morning, I was never happier to see the arrival of a new day. The extreme dizziness and nausea had subsided and the wheezing had lessened somewhat, even though my lungs still sounded junky. I think that was my new baseline. I continued with the next dose of Diamox and my inhaler and also forced myself to drink and eat as much as possible at breakfast. I knew I would need to continue the mind-over-matter battle for at least 2 more days before we would start descending.