Day 1 - Part 2 Into Thin Air

We left off here, at Lake Mead.

After I left Lake Mead the Hoover Dam was very close because Lake Mead is created by the Hoover Dam.  The new Pat Tillman overpass crosses right in front of the Hoover Dam and the walls are so high you can't see the dam, so I had to pull off.  I drove down the twisty road and took a look as I drove by then banged a u-turn and headed east.  I didn't stop or take photos because I feel I know all I need to know about dams, so I left it to the tourists.

I crossed over the border to Arizona.  In these desert mountains there are fast rises and falls of elevation and I was feeling it, I had a slight headache and I was really thirsty.  I had booked a room at the Howard Johnson in Flagstaff, AZ, so I looked up it's elevation and was surprised when Wikipedia displayed 6,910 feet.  Having Cystic Fibrosis and a reduced lung capacity, and the fact that I was already feeling the elevation, I got nervous.  I have experience with elevation so it didn't even cross my mind that I would need to plan for it.  I spent 4-5 Christmases in Aspen, which is about 8,000 feet and I've been to the Continental Divide at Independence Pass and that's 12,000+.  But that was all about ten years ago.  

I pulled over in Dolan Springs, AZ to assess the situation.  My phone was dead, it was a 100 degrees, and I had arrived less than two hours ago.  I dug into my suitcase searching for for my pulse oximeter, the little thing that goes on your finger and measures your heart rate and oxygen saturation to get an objective point of view on this situation and make sure these symptoms weren't psychosomatic.  

The heat was unbearable so I slipped on the oximeter and walked inside the gas mart.  After a short, flat walk my O2 was down to 88, and then went up to 92-94 after I sat at a picnic table for a moment.  I plugged my phone in and stared blankly at the wall because the window was oddly placed and too high to look out.  Normal O2 saturation is above 95%.  At home, mine is usually 96ish.  This much of an O2 drop already was not good.  I was at about 3400 feet and I was going to end up at over double that.    

At this point I knew the altitude was having a considerable effect on my body, the vessel of my soul suffered with each foot I rose.  I was  alone and far from home in the desert mountains and I waited for a sign.  I summoned my moon in Libra with all the strength I could muster to evaluate all sides of the situation and consider my options.  

I had two options as I saw it.  I could be safe and quit and head back to Vegas.  Or, I could continue on and see what happened.  Maybe my body would adjust to the altitude, maybe I was tired from being up at 3 am and flying cross country.  Maybe it would get worse.  Driving in the car I was fine, but when I had to move around, carry a heavy bag, climb stairs, or whatever else, that's when I would be testing the limits of my body.  How far was I willing to go?

I sat pensively as my phone charged.  A woman apologized for chatting loudly on the phone to her neighbor back home.  I said I didn't even notice, and I didn't, she could have been revealing government secrets and coming out as the next leaker and I wouldn't have known or cared, there was too much going on in my head.  

I tried to figure out the worst case scenario in Flagstaff.  It was death, so I searched to see if there was a hospital in Flagstaff - I had no idea, Flagstaff could be some tiny town in the desert.  Flagstaff Medical Center had an emergency room, so in the worst case scenario I could get medical attention there.  I was glad to be in America.    

After what seemed like hours, but was more like twenty minutes, I made a decision - I'm not a coward so I got back in the car and drove towards Flagstaff.  I had to find out, I had to try.  I spent so much time planning this out and I had such enthusiastic, shining hopes that quitting wasn't an option.  I had the Arizona playlist on but neither Gin Blossoms or the Meat Puppets could hold my attention for more than a few seconds as I nervously watched the elevation on the GPS rise to 4000, 5000, 6000, 7000, topping out at around 7300 by the west entrance to the Grand Canyon.  I was glad that I had such a spectacular view of the Grand Canyon from the plane because I wasn't sure I'd have another chance at this point.     

Before I go on I have to mention something about Arizona.  It has the perfect road trip speed limit, and that is 75 mph.  I find the perfect speed on a road trip is somewhere between 72-76 because you can safely look around and take in the scenery and you also feel like you're getting somewhere.  Here's a few pics I took driving through Arizona.

At one point I went 56 miles without seeing a gas station.  I was thirsty and need a snack.  I stopped in Seligman, AZ for gas and snacks.  Walking into the gas mart and being winded at 5200 feet was not what I needed.  O2 was at 86 while walking and went back up to only 90-92.  My vital signs were steadily declining.  I was not having a good time.

As I go into the 6000s I was feeling light-headed and my chest was tight, like someone was sitting on it.  My mind wasn't 100%, I was thinking clearly, but there was a bit of a fog, I was not razor-sharp like I usually am.

I arrived at the city limits of Flagstaff and the elevation was over 7000.  Parking the car as close to the door as possible I went to check in at the HoJo.  I asked for a room on the first floor, but didn't get it, my room was on the second floor near the stairs.  I walked up to the room without my bags because I had to go to the bathroom.  I checked my O2 right after walking up a flight of stairs and walking across my room and it was 83.  I had taken the highway to the danger zone.

I struggled to catch my breath.  My O2 was dipping lower and recovering slower.  My oxygen-deprived brain was working enough because I knew I was at a point where the next choice I made might be between life and death.  I wanted to wake up the next day and I didn't like the current worst case scenario.  Your O2 sat drops when you sleep and mine was already low.  I could not afford to go any lower because I could die in my sleep or wake up so delirious that I wouldn't be alert enough to call 911 and die anyway.  It was about 630 pm Mountain Time and I was really tired.  I had been awake since 3 am Eastern time.  I came out of the bathroom and stood in front of the freshly made king size bed with fluffy pillows and soft white sheets.  It looked incredibly comfortable, maybe a rest would do me a lot of good.

If I went to sleep my life could be over.  I didn't go to sleep I went to the car and set a course for the Flagstaff Medical Center.  I was very concerned as I walked through the parking lot.  My mind was fuzzy, I struggled to breathe, and it was raining.  I spoke to people at the ER greeting window barely able to put a sentence together as I tried to catch my breath from the walk.  A man immediately shoved an oximeter on my finger and then instantly rushed around with a tank of oxygen because it was at 75%.  If I didn't go to the ER I could be dead.

Within minutes I was feeling much better with a supply of oxygen.  I still had light-headedness and chest tightness but my O2 was back up to 96 and I was going to live.

I sat in the waiting room with my tank.  A little girl who was carried in her father's arms couldn't move her arm and when the doctor tried to touch it she cried out in pain.  Even her brief screams of anguish didn't disturb the eery calm of the waiting room.

I was feeling so many emotions.  I was angry and frustrated that I had not given altitude enough respect.  I was feeling disappointed because at some point on the drive I had looked up all the places I intended to stay to check the elevation and the lowest was 3400 and that was in the Great Plains, so the idea that this trip was permanently altered crept into my mind and saddened me.  But, most of all, at this moment, I felt gratitude towards myself, I was glad that I came to the ER, I had saved my own life, and for that I was thankful.

They eventually put me in a room and I saw a doctor and it was obvious that I needed oxygen to-go.  I had to wait for a company to deliver me portable tanks.  The woman who would deliver them was "down-mountain" so it would take a few hours.  I waited on a bed, two different people offered me the remote for the TV when they came in, but I never turned it on.

At midnight, I had supplies that would keep me alive and went back to the HoJo.  All evening I was thinking of the options I was left with.  This morning when I woke up I had to decide where I was going to go.  I checked Facebook to avoid the decision I knew I'd have to make.  I booked a hotel for the night before I left.  I didn't even check out of the HoJo I just left the key on the dresser.

I left at 1030 and just missed breakfast a the McDonald's a few blocks away, so I was forced to get something I didn't want and it was so disgusting that I abruptly pulled into a Jack in the Box for something better.  Then I saw one of the most amazing things I've ever seen.  The drive thru menu said "breakfast served all day" and things just got a whole lot better.  Jack in the Box was a revelation.  I ordered a Big Stack Waffle sandwich.  I grabbed the bag and tossed it on the passenger's seat and got back on the road.  The GPS said turn right, so I turned.  On this day, I was both the saddest and happiest person driving on Historic Route 66 because as I unwrapped this gargantuan sandwich I saw one of the most glorious sights my eyes have ever seen.  A big stack waffle is two fried eggs, crispy bacon, sausage, ham, and American cheese stacked between two lightly sweetened maple waffles.  Behold, and bow to your master:

               

As I ate this monstrous masterpiece driving between Flagstaff and Williams it was raining, and since Arizona is one of the driest states, I knew this rain was for me, to purify my soul and wash me clean of the troubles behind, so I could be born again with new life on this trip.  

I've accepted that I can't do what I set out to do on this trip because I need a supply of oxygen to be safe at altitude and everywhere I intended to go is at altitude.  If I had prepared the proper supplies I could do it, but I didn't, and if I was to continue on the course I set it would become a stressful, possibly dangerous race to get new supplies of oxygen everywhere I went, so I'm not at all interested in doing that.  There's always next summer.   

Everyone out west is high!

I'm sitting in the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas and trying to come up with a new plan.  I might stay here and play poker and take money from the fish, or I could drive to the Pacific Coast, or maybe I'll go to some baseball games in California or try driving through Yosemite with these new supplies.  Whatever I decide to do will be new and my mind is right so I'll have fun.  I'm in good hands because there's a poster on the wall of KISS standing in front of a buddhist statue looking over me.
     
Life is full of ups and downs and you never know what's around the next corner.  Yesterday was one of the most extreme days of my life because I was up for nearly 24 hours, in three time zones, three states and Washington D.C., took two planes, drove 262 miles, went from sea level to 7300 feet in elevation, and nearly died, but I'm glad to be in the west.  The American West is unchanged by my arrival, it always has been and forever will be a place of broken dreams and everlasting hope.