Summit night

We were awakened at 10 PM and began to dress in the multiple layers we needed for summit night. At 11 we ate dinner and then had a med check. My oxygen level was in the mid 80’s, but I was feeling really rough. Tired, breathless, nauseous- just really icky. My self rating on scale of 1-10 was a 5. Had I not been summittting Kilimanjaro that night, I would have been in bed.
For the remainder of this entry I’m gonna copy and paste what I sent to my girls about
It. It was freshest then.
“Anyway- off we went. It was immediately really difficult. Hiking at night using only a headlamp was disorienting for me although I thought it made the section we had done earlier that day easier cuz you couldn’t see what was coming. As we climbed higher and higher it started to get really cold. We were all wearing multiple layers but still my fingers were cold.(But my feet were warm in my alpaca socks.. best purchase I made for this trip!)
I gradually became more lightheaded and dizzy - tripped and fell once but continued and then- about 3 hours into the climb my legs just gave out. I’m guessing we were at 16500 to 17000 feet. At that point I thought of what you all had said about choosing life over summit and I just turned to the guide who was walking close to me and said in tears, “I think I’ve got to call it”. I was really fighting for every breath at this point. He took my O2 level which was 72 I think and gave me oxygen which immediately shot it up to 97. Felt so good to feel my lungs be able to expand. So he called the lead guide who ok’d that he would return me to camp.
He basically led me down for the next couple of hours. We got back to base camp @ 4:45 or so. They took really good care of me- took my boots off, gave me a fresh hot water bottle and gave me 02 for the next 1/2 hour. I got around 2 hours of sleep. When I woke the next morning I felt good about my decision. The point of doing this was never particularly about summiting- it was more about being in the arena and having the experience and I was ok with that. I hung around camp the next morning. Damas- the waiter came to my tent with a cup of coffee and insisted he make me breakfast, I was still having trouble eating. Then I talked with Emmanuel- the guide who brought me back who said he thought it was the right decision.
The team started returning to camp around 11 the following morning. They looked awful. Every one of them talked about how absolutely horrible it had been. Cynthia came down finally- she had made the summit but looked terrible. The guides had continued to tell her I was still on my way all the way to summit. She said after the summit she was absolutely tapped out and a porter had to walk beside her to help her back while he carried her pack. I told her how exceptional she was and she wondered aloud what made her have to finish things when she was clearly so miserable. Have to say at this point I was feeling pretty good about my decision!
But then the memory of the pain starts to fade and the horribleness and awfulness becomes a bonding agent for the team and, as I had anticipated- I felt a sense of “other”. Not because of anything they did or said but because of the mean girl in my own head.
So now I’m asking myself if I did everything I could. Maybe I had more in me. Probably had more in me. I’ve never been particularly competitive- just with myself- but maybe I had taken the easy road.
One thing I know. I’m never gonna go back and find out. This was really NOTHING like the Camino. It was pure grueling work. We did have a great team though. And met some people that will be friends for life. So overall- am I glad I did it? I think so. But there are many other ways I can be miserable and in pain and not have to fly half way around the world to do it!
Love and miss you all!”
The pictures I’m posting were taken by Cynthia upon summiting.Read more