Location: Pheriche
Elevation: 4200 Meters
Elevation Loss: 1100 Meters
Weather: Hot and sunny to cold and windy

My body is cruel. This morning when I awoke, she lifted the veil of illness and allowed some oxygen to kindle the flame of hope. I felt terrific. Awesome. Strong. In that moment, I didn't feel like I needed to go down. I started to scheme-maybe if I did Pumori basecamp today and rested tomorrow, I could be ready to go up the Big Hill on Saturday.

Given the experience of the other morning, I didn't exactly trust my body either. I got out of the the tent and sat on a rock, staring up at the icefall. Hoping the answer could be found in its icy folds. The morning sun was already hot-a fabulous dawn to the day.

I didn't want to go down. I didn't want to pack. I was at a loss to understand my experience except for perhaps my friend Vera rubbing the amethyst crystal she got to cure me of nausea, worked.

I went to the dining tent and had some cheerios and a hot drink. Then my belly stirred-not as bad as usual-but bad enough to remind me of why I had made the decision to go down yesterday. Though I felt pretty good.

I became a high altitude yo-yo once again. Go. Don't go. Stay. Go. I'm better. I'm not better. Go. Stay.

I managed some hard boiled eggs and cheerios. I was convinced I would keep them because there was no lactose in site. If I kept breakfast, maybe I could stay. Small rumbles but breakfast took.

I did notice my quads felt like rubber as I walked around camp and they felt empty of energy. I should go down-rubber quads don't get up Everest safely. I noticed my pants were slipping down...then noticed I could drop them down all the way without undoing the waist or fly. I should go down.

I go to my tent to pack. It's different this time. I don't know if I'll be back to this nylon cocoon that has been my home for a month. Everything must go in bags-just in case. I don't want to pack. After each item, I stop and tear up. I stop and ask myself if I want/need to go down.

Each piece brings the same question. It takes much longer to pack than usual. I don't want to go. It's easier to lie here in an high altitude stupor and just hope that things will get better. Another thing goes in the pack. I cry.

Finally, everything has found a stuff sack home. Some goes with me. Most stays ready to be in a duffle for transport. I am so full of emotion I can hardly breathe the thin air-it's like the feelings have expanded in my chest filling my air sacks with an intensity that's hard to live through.

I'd promised the docs I would let them know what was on the go. I leave my pack with Mingma and scramble over towards the clinic. A path I know well...to my best friends in basecamp. As I traverse the stepping stones over the glacial lake, the BBC guys say my buddies are over at another expedition's camp-they'll be gone for 30 minutes.

In some ways, I am grateful for if I'd seen their caring faces, I'm sure mountains of tears would finally have avalanched from my eyes. I asked the BBC folks to tell the docs I'd gone down to rest even though, in most moments this morning, I didn't want to go.

I choked out good-byes to the folks in basecamp and Mingma and I were on our way. A familiar trail. We'd walked this way for this reason before. I feel weak. I feel the pariah. I don't want to go (have I mentioned that?)

The punctuation, in some ways, is what makes it hardest to go. Is this a comma in my Everest experience? A period? An exclamation point? An ellipsis?

For the first hours I walk, my mind is as busy as a mosquito in early summer trying to sort out the grammar of my life. I play through scenarios. I feel for clues. I watch my intuition. I write dispatches for each variety of punctuation. Every once in awhile, I would break through the grammatical discourse and remind myself that I cannot know right now. So perhaps the best answer for now is the ellipsis...

Mingma and I almost ran down the hill. I'm not sure what was moving him so fast-perhaps it was only "sherpa speed". For me, at times I felt like I was trying to outpace my emotions. If I walked fast enough, I could outrun the grief that was boring a hole in my chest like an ice screw in the icefall.

It felt good to move. Movement always helps me process. At some point, I realized my mind had given over to the present moment. I'd given up the grammar lesson and was paying attention to where each footstep went.

We blew through Loboche because my intuition told me that's where I got giardia. We stopped in Dugla-there I met Mingma's brother, Pemba who was leading a trek to EBC. I also met Mingma's cousin who owned the lodge. Everyone clucked in empathy at my plight (and perhaps Mingma's).

We arrived in Pheriche in four hours-shaving 30 minutes off of last time. It was a bit like coming home and Nuru the innkeeper has welcomed me back warmly. The downhill hike had me feeling strong and confident. The few uphill sections had me on rubber legs and stretching lungs.

So, I suspect some of my information gathering in the next days will be seeing how my body handles a near-by trekking peak. For to return to basecamp, means I must be strong enough to go uphill for six hours at a stretch with few breaks. I'll have to test my body to see if the giardia has robbed me of that ability for the long term or if I can nurse that back here at a lower elevation.

So, I'm here. In fact, I'm grateful for by body's cruelty. The walk down today was relatively pleasant-if I had had to do it over the past three days, it would have been so awful because I felt so poorly. I'm truly happy to feel somewhat better-it just made the decision to come down twice as hard and twice as complicated.

A small novel today. A big day. An Everest sort of day-making the hard call, facing the mountain of feelings about it, and being willing to stay in limbo as I seek more information and deeper healing at 4200 meters.

I was handed a stack of snail mail as I left EBC. Seems like whenever I go down, the mail arrives. I'm really the only one who gets mail :-)

Erika & Taylor-Thanks so much for the pictures and your letter. Erika-I like your room. Taylor-you did a great job with the printing. Flat Stanley says hello. He's been a bit quiet lately-he's been a bit worried about me. For sure, I'll do my best to bring Flat Stanley back to your school.

Ann-thanks for your letter. Congrats on finding your Everest and making it happen! You're brave and courageous.

Jenna, Arlene, and Mike-thanks for your notes as well-thanks for eating some Vanilla Dips and thinking of me.

Karen-two of yours got through-Canada and stars-one mailed April 17 took the speed route. Lots of stratus clouds today.

Moyra-So lovely to hear from my Buddhist buddy-thanks for writing.

BPT-the path of bodhi...I'm doing my best.

Jim & Monica-Nice to hear from you-say hi to Aunty Hilde for me (and all the family out your way).

Ann-Please say hi to your daughter for me. I'm glad she enjoyed the presentation I did at her school.

Roy-Thanks for the confirmation and the pre-welcome back to the rock.

Thanks to all others who wrote. I can hardly express how your words encourage, inspire, and comfort me.

TA

This Everest-007 Update is made possible through the generous support of AppleCore Interactive, www.applecore.ca