Obviously, Africa isn't a place that you decide, on a moment's notice, to visit next month. Well, some people might, but I'm not in that league. This has been in the R & D (registering and depositing) stage for almost a year. By April of '08 our February '09 trip was sold out with the maximum number of 14 climbers and a waiting list. As 401(k)s turned into 101(a)s and paychecks became unemployment checks, that number would fluctuate over the summer and fall. Sadly, my sister Momi and her friend Nancy from San Francisco, and my friend Gary that I've known since Kwajalein days, who were so enthusiastic about going on this trip, bought all the gear, spent a day with me dragging them up a "real" trail, would all have to withdraw for various reasons. I will miss their bright smiles on the trip and think of them constantly, but mostly when I'm freezing in the tent by myself. Now that we're counting days instead of months, the good people at Wilderness Travel have told me our group will consist of 10 climbers. Excellent. That means I will likely have one of the greatest bonding experiences known to man (barfing together) with seven complete strangers.
In addition to rounding up the necessary gear and putting in time on the trails to get conditioned for this eight-day "hike," a visit to Africa includes a plethora of injections and prescriptions to boost your body armor to fend off wicked pathogens. This required asking Mom to try to recall which of the dreaded ailments I was vaccinated for as a child. Between the two of us, we couldn't be entirely sure, but my dog's vet record for distemper, parvovirus, rabies and giardia probably came close. I have kennel cough all the time.
Having completed this "getting to know you" session with my buddies, our Africa triad was dispatched back to the reception area where we were told to wait for the nurse to call us back individually. Joe asked, "So, are we really going to do this?" At that point our departure date was less than two months away and we were about to put live viruses in our bodies. There was still a large final payment to be made on the trip, and remodeling projects and Wall Street were messing with available funds with no chance for a Kilimanjaro bailout program. Our Rubicon moment had arrived. The nurse called my name.
So, add to the above list a shot for Yellow Fever (mandatory for Africa) and a course of four live virus capsules that I'd need to take for typhoid. Continuing, I have prescriptions for
Acetazolamide (for altitude sickness), Malarone (for malaria), Albuterol inhaler (just in case), prednisone (this one is good: in case of a high-altitude dental issue - like the acute mountain sickness won't be brain numbing enough?), and an extra-strength bowel paralyzer in case of "severe intestinal distress." With this mobile pharmacy in my pack, clearly there will be no room for spare underwear, so I might start with the bowel paralyzer for breakfast on Day 1. My brother, Doug, was quick to point out that I can now enjoy three-day-old roasted goat bladder in a fermented gazelle milk reduction with desert rat jerky garnish. (Photo: Typhoid, the happy vaccine.)
In addition to rounding up the necessary gear and putting in time on the trails to get conditioned for this eight-day "hike," a visit to Africa includes a plethora of injections and prescriptions to boost your body armor to fend off wicked pathogens. This required asking Mom to try to recall which of the dreaded ailments I was vaccinated for as a child. Between the two of us, we couldn't be entirely sure, but my dog's vet record for distemper, parvovirus, rabies and giardia probably came close. I have kennel cough all the time.
The visits to my doc began in June, a good six months prior to departure. Four nurses (why?), two of my exposed arms, two shots in each arm: Hepatitis A, Hepatitis B, polio and tetanus booster. I felt like a homeless person at the free clinic, the new nurses wanting to get some practice in: "Ooh, let me do one." I would return one month later for the second Hep B, and again six months later for the final Hep A and B, and a flu shot (more practice for the nurses). Add to that a trip to the Travel Clinic with my traveling companions, Joe and Beth, where we filled out long forms with numerous boxes to check and then were drilled for an hour on every illness we've ever had, what vaccines we received and when, any allergies (especially to eggs or chicken), autoimmune disorders, current weight. What, no HIPAA?
Having completed this "getting to know you" session with my buddies, our Africa triad was dispatched back to the reception area where we were told to wait for the nurse to call us back individually. Joe asked, "So, are we really going to do this?" At that point our departure date was less than two months away and we were about to put live viruses in our bodies. There was still a large final payment to be made on the trip, and remodeling projects and Wall Street were messing with available funds with no chance for a Kilimanjaro bailout program. Our Rubicon moment had arrived. The nurse called my name.
So, add to the above list a shot for Yellow Fever (mandatory for Africa) and a course of four live virus capsules that I'd need to take for typhoid. Continuing, I have prescriptions for
Acetazolamide (for altitude sickness), Malarone (for malaria), Albuterol inhaler (just in case), prednisone (this one is good: in case of a high-altitude dental issue - like the acute mountain sickness won't be brain numbing enough?), and an extra-strength bowel paralyzer in case of "severe intestinal distress." With this mobile pharmacy in my pack, clearly there will be no room for spare underwear, so I might start with the bowel paralyzer for breakfast on Day 1. My brother, Doug, was quick to point out that I can now enjoy three-day-old roasted goat bladder in a fermented gazelle milk reduction with desert rat jerky garnish. (Photo: Typhoid, the happy vaccine.) If you think that's bad, check out this list. What the heck is this guy even doing on the mountain? Hunting elephant? Oh, wait. Botox, tea bags, sweet & low, tweezers. Okay, still, what is she doing on the mountain?
1 comment:
I love the menu. Can't stop laughing. MMMM, tasty. It sounds so exotic and delicious. My thoughts went immediately to Babette from Hell. (Wasn't that her name?)
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