The little engine that couldn’t. I think I can. I know I can, but I cannot.
We have spoken before about the persuasive power of the eyes. There is something about envisioning which may mislead us. As Twain said, “You can’t trust your eyes if your imagination is OUT OF FOCUS”.
Based on recent data, one in six who ascends Everest above Camp IV dies. Of those who reach the summit, one in four dies on the way down. The mountain remains a killer. As Bear Grylls (Man vs. Wild star) said recently on Oprah, it is not a mountain people should be climbing around on. By comparison, one in two who reaches the summit of Annapurna dies on the way down. K2 is also deadly.
Now what is going on here? According to one climber, people get at or above base camp and the Lohtse face. They can SEE the top of Everest and the fact they can SEE it makes them think they can climb it. Everest is only the equivalent of 2229 stairs. Surely we can do it. Yet, fairly frequently, we may die trying. It is not just mountains which give this illusion. A windsurfer on Maui who could see Molokai clearly from Ka’anapali Beach disappeared on a day of rough weather, attempting to make the crossing.
The Everest principle then is letting the eye overcome reason. Being able to SEE the top of Everest is no assurance at all that one can climb it. A slight worsening in the weather can spell the end of life. Mallory’s story is one such example. In other words, unexpected troubles change everything and we should not take chances with survival. Ed Viesters, a survivor of the 1996 disaster, went up Everest, slowly, without oxygen. He claimed the reason so many die is that they go up too fast, misled as to their abilities by carried oxygen. When the climbing is tough, as in bad weather, they use too much oxygen, and when they run out, they are dead. He felt that slow acclimation was a better protection for him and has managed to prove it. Viesters has climbed most or all of the world’s most dangerous peaks without oxygen. His idea, don’t risk taking on more than you are really ready for.
Now let us talk about central pain. The National Institutes of Health has repeatedly stated that there is no satisfactory cure for central pain and that therefore the patient should attempt to keep life as free of stress as possible. Energy to endure is what allows us to survive central pain. In the background however are a legion of forces saying the opposite. Perhaps the strongest impelling voice is that of a disability carrier. Perhaps it is a family dependent on a paycheck. Perhaps it is a doctor who cannot cure and so puts the burden back on the patient. Perhaps the remonstrance comes from a minister, a neighbor, an “expert”, or from passersby. They want and expect something better than we are giving. Basically we are expected to be functional and when we are not, all hell breaks lose.
If we listen to these voices and ignore the NIH doctors, we may not survive. It does not matter if others or even we can PICTURE our being functional in some energy and stress requiring way. Severe pain keeps one on the edge of exhaustion, sleep loss, and the will to live. If we see our lives only in terms of functionality, the way the general public does, we may climb our Everest and find ourselves suddenly exhausted, confused, out of resources, frozen in pain, and dead.
When one acquires central pain, a common admonition is that they should support themselves by “writing a book”, as if the world is poised waiting to hear gruesome stories about pain. Writing a book is a very stressful matter. Betting the house on profitable sales of that book is nuts. Your pain will not inspire you. It will drain you. Learning to say “No” to yourself and others may not seem very praiseworthy, but is is an essentiality. Just when pain has eliminated your ability to think, move, or plan, you are supposed to “really get busy” to make things like they were before? Things will NEVER be remotely like they were before. Accepting that may allow you to calculate what you actually can do, with as little stress as possible. When the scientists invent a way to stop the pain, we will bowl them over with ambition. Right now, we are performing the sacred task of saving a life, our own.
Severe pain is a killer. The demoralization sneaks up on one. The world can collapse when an attempted goal suddenly is seen to be preposterous and our image of ourselves as a human disappears. We emphasize again that allocation of scarce resources is the number one principle of surviving severe central pain. Never become a victim of the Everest principle. Do not let others enforce it upon you. Your life has meaning, but with central pain is ill supplied with survival equipment. Take care. Guard your will. It may desert you when you do not see it coming.
