The
Trail to Mount Everest
Martin
Wilcox
Practicing
Medicine at the
World’s
Highest Hospital
Prologue
“Because it is there,” uttered
George Mallory in the early 20th century when asked
why he wanted to climb Mount Everest. And though my reasons
for returning to the Mt. Everest region of the Solu Khumbu area
of Nepal are a bit more logical, Mallory’s statement does
hold an element of truth.
In 1947, my father packed up our family and
moved us from his native state of Kansas to Grand Lake,
Colorado. He was a civil engineer with the Bureau of
Reclamation. Much needed water from the western slopes of the
Rockies was being diverted beneath the Continental Divide through
the Alva B. Adams tunnel to feed the thirsty farming country of
eastern Colorado and western Nebraska. It was at Grand Lake
that the genesis of my love for the great mountains
started. I was but a boy of 8. At 8,369 feet above
sea level, we lived only four miles from the western entrance to
Rocky Mountain National Park. Sitting on my red wagon
alongside Highway 34 south of Grand Lake, I spent summer weekends
selling fishworms to the Denver fishermen for a dime a
dozen. I had time between customers (sometimes plenty of
time) to gaze at the perennially snow capped peaks to the
north. Ever changing in their robes of sun or shadow, rain
or snow, warmth or bone chilling cold, my enchantment and love
for these great mountains grew as rapidly as I did as a third
grader.
It was while I lived within the embrace of
those mountains that I learned that Sir Edmund Hillary and
Tenzing Norgay Sherpa had made the first documented climb of
Mount Everest. It was then that a small seed was planted
which ultimately blossomed 45 years later when my tear filled
eyes gazed upon Mount Everest as Sue and I rounded a bend in the
trail leading upward from Namche Bazaar. Four days later, I
summited Gokyo Ri from which I was to have had a most magnificent
view of Mt. Everest and the surrounding Himalayas. The
weather had been crystal clear when we had started the climb that
morning. But half way up, I glanced back down the Gokyo
valley and saw clouds starting to roll up the basin. By the
time I peered to the east from 18,023 feet, Chomolongma (Tibetan
name for Mt. Everest) was obscured. A great disappointment
to me but an even worse realization for Sue who knew that I would
one day have to come back to get a better view of this highest of
the world’s mountains.
In the interim between the 8th
grade and our 1996 trek to Gokyo Ri, I had lived in Zion National
Park, Grand Canyon National Park and other equally rugged and
stunning places. I had also become a surgeon and I was
within 5 years of retiring from a career as a Flight Surgeon and
General Surgeon with the United States Navy. During our
Gokyo trek in 1996, Sue and I had been so impressed with the
scenery in Nepal and had developed such a deep respect for the
lowland porters and the Sherpas that we vowed we would return one
day to volunteer our services in support of these people.
The Himalayan Rescue Association (HRA)
sponsors and runs two Aid Posts in the high Himalayas. One
is at Manang which is about 11,000 feet in the area of the
Annapurna Circle. The second is at Pheriche on the trail to
Mt. Everest. Sue and I had applied for one of the two
physician posts at Pheriche and had been accepted to serve there
during the March to June time frame last year. Then came
9/11 and I suddenly found myself aboard the USS Carl Vinson in
the North Arabian Sea watching from the Flag Bridge as the first
strikes against the Taliban in Afghanistan were launched.
While aboard, I had received notification that a stop-loss order
had been placed on general surgeons and that my planned
retirement in early 2002 was postponed indefinitely. I had
to notify the Himalayan Rescue Association that I was no longer
available. I soon learned that I had immediately been
replaced by a Canadian physician (who later backed out at the
last minute on advice from the Canadian government due to Maoist
activity in Nepal). And then came a second message.
The Navy had determined that I was so old (over 60) that I
would be allowed to retire as scheduled. Too late!
The Pheriche position had been filled.
But in the end, it was good karma. On
April 16th at 2304, 2002, only two weeks after I
retired from the Navy, Sue suddenly perforated her stomach, spent
six weeks in the ICU, underwent two major surgical procedures
plus special procedures to drain a retro-hepatic abscess and
nearly succumbed. Had we been in Nepal as originally
scheduled, we would already have been at Pheriche—3 days
from the nearest airport by foot. She certainly would not
have survived that insult with any time delay whatsoever.
So all things happen for a reason. And in this case the
reason was very, very good.
I was later reassigned by the HRA to fill
one of the positions at Pheriche for the March through May season
of 2003. It was not without considerable soul searching
that I embarked on this journey alone. Sue was not able to
make the trip because of her medical problems and the lack of
sophisticated medical care in Nepal. My daughters (all 5 of
them) either voiced or communicated concern about this
venture. My 95-year-old mother also expressed her opinion
that I should not go. This opinion was offered in no
uncertain terms as Mom is prone to do. Sue was keenly aware
of just how much this venture meant to me and although I know she
did not want me to go, she never once complained as the
preparations and ultimate departure approached.
And so it is that I will be stationed at the
world’s highest hospital. Alongside the trail to Mount
Everest. Two days shy of the Everest Base Camp and at an
elevation of 14,600 feet or 14,343 feet depending on your
source. And it will be a banner year. It is the 50th
anniversary of the first documented ascent of Mt. Everest by Sir
Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Sherpa, the 40th
anniversary of the first American ascent by Jim Whittaker and the
25th anniversary of the first ascent of Everest
without using supplemental oxygen by Reinhold Messner. It also
happens to be the 30th anniversary of the Himalayan Rescue
Association. Many mountaineering dignitaries plan to trek
to the base camp and they will pass within a few feet of the
clinic/hospital. Some of this generation are now older and
may well require our services. We will also be there to
provide medical care to the local Sherpas and the porters as well
as the trekkers. Especially in the area of Acute Mountain
Sickness (AMS), High Altitude Cerebral Edema (HACE) and High
Altitude Pulmonary Edema (HAPE).
This is a truly unique opportunity.
The chance of a lifetime! And I have an ever growing number
of grandkids who need to be told some stories. The
chronicles from my experiences during the next three months will
require little embellishment. So get ready Alex, Chris,
Katie, Gina, Erika, Ryan, Lexus, Dean, Dallas, Beau and
Brooke. Grandpa’s going to have some tales to tell.
The story
continues............................
Chapter 1 - Background on Nepal
Chapter 2 - HRA-EMT
History
Chapter 3 - Training on the Colorado Plateau
Chapter 4 - The Commute to Work Seattle to Kathmandu