Loser Plateau - The walk back from top camp without using a helicopter.
Julian Todd
Arrived at top camp on 2/8 early walk up all excited, and had a
slip-up on the slab below the cooling rock in the stone bridge. It
didn't hurt, but I had a lie down. Then I got up and it hurt like
hell. Like a piece of razor wire had been substituted for a tendon
between my lower back and right knee. If I could just get around
without it flexing and slicing through my flesh, it was bearable.
But most movements caused pain that amost heated up the region and
made my left thumb go numb due to neurological noise across the
regions of the humunculus (brain area that has the body map). [I
have no idea whether or not he is making this up - editor.]
So I didn't go caving. I sat on the slabs the whole day happy when not
moving because it didn't hurt. Often I thought I was cured, only to
have to get up for a pee and scream with each step. On Day 2 I
could move a little bit more. The pain intensity was the same but
the barrier was a little further away so I was more mobile. Since I
wasn't dead it was probably not a ruptured spleen. It just hurt
like an inaccessible splinter. The sun beat down on the carrymat
over my head. I sat like a cripple and was driven insane by the
inefficiency of team fester who didn't get a move on and leave me
in peace until 4.30pm. Man! [As a member of 'team fester' I
should point out that I hadn't got out of the cave the previous day
until 4.50am and was possibly more knackered than I have ever been
in my life before. - DL (editor)]
Meanwhile Earl + Becka were
doing lots of wonderful caving, discovering lots of stuff and doing
useful work. Becka's going to marry Earl if I don't pull myself
together. I climbed into bed after it got dark, after team fester
had left all the litter all over the slabs until it was dary so
they couldn't see it and therefore couldn't clear it up. In the
morning I was still sore. I was not going to spend another day like
this, like a refugee cowering under a scrap of cardboard waiting
for food handouts and for someone to care, just happy to be alive.
So while everyone was discussing stretchering me off (not possible)
or calling a helicopter (last resort) I drifted off to the path to
the derision of people observing how long it was taking me
to get out of sight. Once out of earshot I could howl, which helped
overcome the pain (I've always been a crybaby). Becka joined me
later, carrying my pack. It was better if she walked separately so
I could pick my pace, stopping for refueling stops. Martin arrived
from base camp and we headed for the Bergrestaurant. Earl followed
after an hour and drove us all down. I haven't experienced pain of
this sort in a while. I've learnt my lesson. I hope it gets better.
I just want to go home and not get carted off to some pill-pusher
for some pointless ointment. Get me out of here.
T/U N/A