August 2016
Doctor Marty and I are exchanging emails. In preparation for climbing Mount Whitney, and being fully aware that the altitude on our recent climb on Mauna Kea challenged my constitution, I am asking him about a medication my friend Mike the Wilderness Medicine guy recommended. It’s called Acetazolimide, or sometimes called Diamox. It is designed to minimize or even ward off the symptoms and effects of altitude sickness.
We agree to try it and see what happens.
Part of our exchange goes like this…
me, in appreciation of Doctor Marty’s good service…
“If this works, I will dedicate my hike to you.”
Doctor Marty…
“I guess that’s second best to taking me with you.”
me…
“The airline will allow me only one carry-on bag so I’ll have to leave you home.”
Doctor Marty, the good doctor that he is, has another idea…
“Thanks for checking with the airlines. They really should allow one doctor to travel free with each passenger…”
Some years ago, I heard about a company that put together “Backpack with a Massage Therapist” outings. At first, as a hiker and a massage therapist, I was sparked by this idea. But then I thought of the practicality of such a trip. The upside was that you didn’t have to pay to be part of this guided group. That’s attractive. The downside however, really took me down.
I envisioned carrying my pack, and my massage table, up and down the mountain all day with the other hikers, arriving at camp, setting up and having dinner. Then everyone relaxes. Except me. Now I go to work, performing two to three hours of massage.
Are you kidding me?
So Doctor Marty, do you really want to sit next to me while you watch the Rocky Mountains go by outside your window on the way to our vacation in California, and listen to me kvetch about my back pain? Oh, and would you mind looking at this rash?