Recovery II

My emotions have been running high the last couple weeks and I don't know if it'll stop any time soon. I'm handling things quite well given the scenario, though.

First off, I already got myself back to skiing. On Friday last week my mind had been focused on skiing. I had to get back there to make things right again. As hard as it was, I made my way to Big Sky by myself and spent my morning in fear. The very first run I about lost it when the run got even a little bit steep. My mind went into a panic and I thought about the slope sliding. It's incredibly stupid in hindsight but somewhat rational when it comes down to it. My fear had me tense most of the day, but slowly my mind came around and I became one step closer to moving forward.

Speaking of unrational I think my head has been playing games with me and overcompensating for any fear I'm still harboring. You see when a person wants to backcountry ski or ice climb or alpine climb they have to prepare themselves for the worst or they'll panic when something goes wrong. We have to go into the back country thinking this could be our last day... this might be it. It's dire to reflect on the situation but we all do it. After I attempted Mt. Rainier for the first time I was forced to reflect on the dangers of my activities. For the first time I saw what risk can do to a person. It may not be something any of us think about, but indirectly our mind has come to terms with this idea. If you're hanging off the side of a cliff miles from help, your mind thinks about what to do if a rock falls and you break your leg or if your partner takes a lead fall and they break their ankle. We prepare ourselves for the possibilities... Without this mindset I'd be so much worse off.

But on the downside, preparing myself for this scenario also puts me at risk for being a little too cavalier. After dealing with my initial fear and insomnia it moved on to a developing acceptance. Acceptance didn't come too quickly, but it presented itself within a week and I was able to ski shortly thereafter. Seeing I could face my fear also forced me to accept that I will still ski and I'll still climb and I'll still put myself in dangerous situations. But it isn't because I'm being too cavalier, it's because no matter what happens to me climbing and skiing will always be my outlet. But this isn't everything. Being able to get back out there and try to enjoy something that almost killed me allowed me to see that maybe I was on borrowed time. Maybe I need to live life as full as I can. Take risks in my personal life and my active life. But this isn't how it should be. I should take this borrowed time and enhance it. I should be safer than I ever can be and learn as much as I can and just be me again.

So what if I came close to dying, I'm still me and that won't ever change. Why should this situation change me and make me safer or make me more cavalier? It shouldn't! I'll always be who I am and everyone knows that... including me. I know a few of you reading this right now are smiling and shaking your heads. You all know I'll be back out there eventually. And you know what? You're gonna love that I'm out there too. Most of you wouldn't know who I was if I sat inside all day playing video games and twiddling my thumbs.

I'll be safer than I've ever been but I'll still be out there living my life.

Recovery

The recovery has been difficult but surprisingly my mind is coming around fast. The initial few nights were terrible. I couldn't sleep well and would barely make it to an hour of sleep and would wake up for a few hours extremely panicked. I luckily wasn't having any nightmares but would wake up scared and very stressed. It was extremely unnerving. By the third night I was starting to feel better because I had a little post trauma session with my physical therapist. She has been a savior in this situation. So kind and willing to listen to my crazy antics. And extremely helpful throughout my shoulder rehab to boot. Without her going the extra distance for me I would be so much more worse off. It's honestly amazing how much she cares.

Anyways, after my session with her I felt great emotionally and physically. I slept great that night and have been doing quite well ever since. Although I have been having a slight problem actually falling asleep. When I lay down in my bed my mind apparently thinks I won't wake up again. It has been difficult, but considering it's only been a week I think I'm doing quite well.

Oh yeah, and I managed to actually move my skis. They've been in the same spot since the accident and today I finally moved them up to my bedroom.

Overall I'm feeling pretty good and am now able to move past this situation. Happy one week anniversary!!!

Avalanche

Sunday was a day you always hear about but think it'll never happen to you. My number has been up multiple times this year, but this was as bad as it could have gotten minus the fact that I was as lucky as I could have been. It was a crazy day but here I am.

Tom and I went to ski Mt. Blackmore just south of Bozeman. We made the six mile skin in and summited the peak in clear conditions. It was an absolutely amazing day. Very calm wind and an amazing wintry setting. It just felt absolutely amazing to be out again and in the environment I've missed the last couple months. Well, we sat at the summit for a few minutes and took in all of the amazing terrain.

After a few minutes on the summit we took our skins off and started inching our way down the ridge we had just skinned up. It was hard windblown snow. Going down we both made ski cuts to check the stability and couldn't even get a very unstable wind slab on top to break. Although there were some unstable layers underneath we had a hard time getting them to break. When we dropped off the ridge we made our way down into a bowl and made another ski cut. We still didn't get anything to break. Just to be sure we dug a pit and checked stability. It was a little bit of an isolated area and we got different results than what we skied directly to the left of the pit. It was amazing how much variability each area had. Looking back this should have been our stopping point. Although, at the moment we were able to ski these slopes and weren't getting any ski cuts to break. Hindsight is 20/20.

After skiing the bowl we went up and over the ridge back into the main bowl we came up. The chute we skied was just over this ridge and led into a huge open bowl. After getting a hard ski cut at the top of the chute we still weren't getting any instability. Tom skied down the chute without any problems. I sat up top and waited for him to get to a safe zone so I could ski down. After he was behind a rock outcropping I dropped in, made a few turns and heard a "whoompf" behind me. At this point I wasn't totally panicked but was a little scared something large was breaking behind me. I made it a few more turns into the chute and then my feet were swept from underneath me. I was on my back sliding down the hill and trying to keep swimming towards the surface. I was hit by something and was turned around so I was still on my back going head first downhill. Time was so slow and I honestly can't believe how far I had gone. After I started to slow down at the bottom of the hill a larger second wave of snow came down and completely buried me. I was down about three feet. At this point my right lung had been compressed and I was trying to control my breath but couldn't do it. Staying calm was the first thing I was thinking but I just couldn't do it. After about 10 quick breaths, since my entire body was compressed from hundreds of pounds of snow, I lost consciousness.

My partner had turned his beacon to search and luckily quickly found me. I can't imagine what he was thinking seeing a huge area of white and no person. When he dug me out it was about 6 minutes from when I was buried. He said when he first saw my face he thought I was dead. I wasn't responding and had snow in my mouth but he quickly noticed I was just barely breathing. He cleared my airway while yelling my name at me and I finally came around only to mumble something uncomprehensive. I then pass out again and wake up again when he almost has me entirely dug out. The first thing I tell him is: "that would have been a peaceful way to go." I vaguely remember saying this but was utterly shocked that's what I say first.

After he gets me fully dug out we both sit there in shock and note that we're some of the luckiest unlucky guys. But once I stand up I start coughing blood and basically litter the pit of which I was buried in blood. My partner starts to get worried at this point but we've only found one of my skis and would therefore have to hike the six miles out. Not an ideal situation but doable. I insist that we probe a little bit longer to look for the ski and we eventually find it and are able to ski out. It was the greatest feeling.

The ski out was the most unnerving scenario I could imagine. I was exhausted, stressed out, and my emotions were all over the place. I was happy to be alive but depressed I had to deal with my own possible death. Helpless but in control.

We made it out by 7pm. I had just about stopped coughing up blood at this point but still felt on edge since I wasn't at my house. I knew I wouldn't feel safe until I made it home and sat down in a comfortable environment. And this was the other high point of this scenario. First finding the ski and now making it back to my house.

I'm still trying to sort through the details and I haven't been able to quit thinking about this scenario constantly. There was so much going on at that moment, but this gives the big picture. Anyone who wants to know more can call me and I'll give the last of the details.

The point is: I'm out alive.