I’d planned to cross-country ski and horseback ride in the snow at the C Lazy U Guest Ranch & Resort in Granby, Colorado. Instead, I was lying on a gurney in the emergency clinic at the Granby Medical Center, suffering from an acute case of altitude sickness and dehydration, attached to both an oxygen tank and an I.V. I watched as the fluid went drip drip drip at snail’s pace down the clear tubing. The pain hammered non-stop through my temples, my forehead, between my eyes, and even the back of my neck.
“What’s the pain level, ten being highest, one being lowest?” the nurse asked as she took my blood pressure.
“Eight and one-half to nine.” It wasn’t just the pounding headache. I felt weak, nauseous, dehydrated, had been vomiting non-stop since last night, and I had chills.
“Would you like a blanket?”
She left and returned within seconds to tuck a heated blanket around me.
“Heated? Wow!”
“We want you to be comfortable,” she smiled. A smiling nurse? This was so different than the surly E.R. nurses in New York City who frowned if you asked for a blanket and seemed to resent the fact that you’d been injured in an accident and needed help. Right now, I felt sicker than ever in my life, but the nurse was so caring and attentive that I almost felt I was in a resort rather than in an E.R. at an oxygen-challenging 8,000 feet above sea level. “The doctor will be here in a moment,” she said gently.
I closed my eyes and thought about everything I was missing. Right now, it was 2 pm and I was supposed to be having a horseback riding lesson followed by a massage, then back to my spacious cabin with a roaring fire, maybe eating an apple from the daily-replenished fruit basket, looking out at the Rockies. Instead, I was in a small sterile cubicle with pale blue curtain walls, staring at neon lights, and the only thing being replenished was my IV bag.
Dr. Jeffrey Lipke came into the room. He was somewhere in his thirties, movie-star good-looking, and with a smile that could melt a glacier. There were other patients in the E.R., including a teen who’d been injured in a snowboarding accident; still, Dr.Lipke seemed to have all the time in the world for me. I explained that the day before, I’d flown early in the morning from NYC to Denver, spent the day doing an easy hike in Boulder, then returned to Denver for a huge meal paired with different wines.
“You should avoid alcohol and coffee at altitude,” he said. “And you need to drink plenty of fluids, six to eight glasses a day and more. When you exercise, you need to take frequent sips of water or sports drinks to keep your fluid level up. I’m going to give you another IV bag, and then release you with oxygen.” The nurse wheeled in a tank.
The only people I’d ever seen wheeling oxygen tanks usually had a fatal disease ““ not me! Walking around in public with an oxygen tank? Me? The athlete? How humiliating!
“Do you have any other questions?” I’d never met a doctor who asked if I had questions. Too bad he couldn’t be cloned.
Five hours later, I returned to my hotel, where the woman from the oxygen company arrived to set up a plug-in oxygen apparatus in my room. When I told her how ridiculous I felt, she said it’s not at all unusual, and she brings oxygen to about five patients a day.” Knowing I wasn’t the only one made me feel better.
“Do you want a backpack?” she asked.
“What for?”
“In case you want to do something outside. Yesterday I gave a 13-year-old boy a backpack so he could go snowmobiling.”
“You mean, I have to use oxygen tomorrow?”
“You’ll need it at least for the next four days.”
FOUR DAYS? Not me! I’ll wake up normal.
But in the morning, my head still pounded, my stomach was too queasy to eat, and I could barely climb down a flight of stairs. My friend Hilary, who is from Maine, and is an expert skier, had altitude sickness once in the Rockies, and for six days was curled up in fetal position sucking on ice-cubes. Uh-uh. Not me. I kept drinking water, but nothing changed. I knew the only way my symptoms would disappear would be to get back to sea level. I threw down the oxygen tube, re-booked my return flight, and headed for Denver. At the airport, my head was throbbing and my stomach was no better. An hour into the flight, I took a short nap, and when I awoke, the headache and nausea were finally gone.
I plan to go back to Colorado, but next time, I’m going to mainline water, drink no alcohol or caffeine, and take it easy my first day. Let’s face it ““ anyone can get altitude sickness and if you’ve had it once, you can still get it again. So even though the E.R. doctor at the Granby Medical Center is a hunk, I’d rather spend my time playing outdoors, not lying prone on a gurney.
“Margie Goldsmith, Spa Adventure Columnist
With her love of health and writing, Melissa has written for such publications as Shape, Natural Solutions, Yoga Journal, Self and Pilates Style, and has created recipes and food-oriented stories for such publications as Delicious Living and Cooking Light.
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