Chance’s groans snapped her out of her reverie. His stomach gurgled as if a creature from a bad horror film had set up residence in his intestines. Olivia glanced at his half-empty plate. Known for his enormous appetite, he normally consumed up to five thousand calories a day. Leaving a meal unfinished was unlike him.
“Are you feeling okay?”
Beads of sweat the size of dimes had formed on his shaved head. His clammy skin bore an unhealthy pallor. “I must have caught some kind of bug on the pass. I’ve been in the crapper all morning. Now I feel like I’m going to puke.”
Marie-Eve pushed her plate away from her. “Thanks for over sharing.”
Gigi placed a hand on his forehead. “You have a fever, Papi.” She dipped her napkin into her glass of water and brushed the damp cloth over his face. “Do you need to stay behind? Why don’t you get some rest and catch up to us tomorrow? I’ll stay with you if you like.”
“Not a chance. If we stay behind, we’ll fall behind. Sam has a schedule and I’m sticking to it.” He kissed Gigi’s palm before reaching for a liter of bottled water. “I’ll be fine as soon as I hydrate, though a little TLC from the sexiest doctor in the world wouldn’t hurt.”
Gigi leaned her head against his shoulder. “I brought medications to treat nausea and diarrhea. They’re in my bag if you want me to—”
“Stop worrying so much. I’ll give you the high sign if I need anything.” He nuzzled her short dark curls.
Olivia checked in on the other members of the team. Peter and Marie-Eve were in the middle of yet another spirited comparison between Canadian and German beer so she left them to it. She turned to Roland, who was on the latest leg of his gastronomic tour of Nepal. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he was trying to take in as many calories as he could now so he’d have extra reserves to tap into on the mountain.
“Are you feeling better today?”
“Much better, thank you,” Roland said. He licked mulberry jam off his lips and reached for a glass of jackfruit juice. Ripened jackfruit emitted an odor similar to rotting onions. Olivia didn’t want to know if the fruit’s taste matched its unpleasant smell. “But yesterday’s talk of monsoons and blizzards has me thinking. Perhaps it would be best if I remained here at camp until you return. If a healthy young man like Mr. Bennett has taken ill so early in our journey, imagine how much someone like me would slow the team down later on. You have—how do you say in America—no hard feelings?”
“Of course not.”
Rae and Sam charged sixty thousand dollars a head to lead clients up Annapurna I. The fee for Everest, a two-month trip, was even higher. The pricing was steep, but thanks to their unblemished record, they had compiled a lengthy list of satisfied customers. Roland had ponied up nearly half a million dollars to fund this trip. Why argue with the man who was paying the bills? If he wanted to watch the action from the bleachers instead of joining in the game, she wouldn’t try to cajole him into changing his mind.
He grinned like a naughty boy who had managed to talk his way out of an expected punishment. “I will keep Ms. de Voest and the climb physician company while we anxiously await news of your tremendous achievement.”
Olivia had never understood why most climb physicians remained at base camp instead of embarking on the expedition with the people in their care. No matter. She and Gigi could treat the minor maladies that sprang up. If anything more serious arose, help was just a radio call away.
Sam grabbed a piece of toast and clenched it between her teeth while she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her hooded windbreaker. “I’ll tell Jimmy we won’t need to take as many supplies or as many porters as we originally thought.”
Olivia grabbed her rain slicker and followed her outside.
“Anxious to get underway?” Sam tossed her a helmet. The sturdy head covering wasn’t decorative. It was meant to protect the wearer from falling rocks, an unfortunate phenomenon that had claimed more than its fair share of climbers. “We’re almost ready.” She keyed the microphone of a two-way radio.
The small unit featured voice activation, a hand crank to supplement the direct and alternate power supplies, hands-free operation, and a USB port to charge cell phones and mp3 players. If it could drive a stick shift, Olivia might have to marry it.
Sam picked up the handset and held the speaker close to her mouth, her hand cupped over the microphone to block the background noise. “Test one, two, three. Test one, two, three. Rae, do you read me? Over.”
The radio crackled and went silent. Sam switched frequencies and repeated her message. A few seconds later, Rae’s voice said, “Reading you loud and clear. Over.”
“Dr. Bradshaw—”
Olivia laid a hand on Sam’s forearm. The corded muscles felt like banded steel. “It’s Olivia, remember?”
Sam’s dark blue eyes flicked down to Olivia’s hand then up to her face. She nodded to acknowledge the correction.
Mindful of Sam’s apparent aversion to being touched, Olivia removed her hand before Sam could shake it off.
“Olivia is here with me and the guys. Give everyone else five minutes to shit, shower, and shave, then send them out. I’ll check in during the rest stop, then again when we set up camp for the night. Over.”
“Roger. Keep your head down up there. Over.”
“We’re only going a couple thousand feet today. Over.”
“You know better than anyone there’s no only on this mountain. Be careful, Sam. Over.”
“You got it. As for the thousand rupees you owe me, pay me in cash. I don’t take checks. Over.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll see you when you get back. Over and out.”
Olivia secured her helmet and checked the straps on her backpack while Sam supervised the offloading of the extraneous equipment and supplies. The other members of the team slowly came out to join them. Marie-Eve and Peter were first on the scene, followed by Gigi and Chance.
“The gang’s all here,” Chance said. “Let’s get a move on.”
One of the Sherpas turned to another of his fellow porters, clearly perplexed by the tall, brown-skinned man handing out high fives. His companion smiled, pointed at Chance, and said something in his native language that sounded remarkably like “Michael Jordan.” Olivia chose to keep that bit of misinformation to herself. Chance was a talented player, but his career stats were nowhere near those of the man widely considered to be the best player who ever dribbled a basketball.
Sam held up a cautionary hand. “One more thing before we go.”
Marie-Eve groaned. “Not another speech.”
Sam leaned casually on her trekking poles as if she had all the time in the world. Olivia could hear the clock ticking. Why couldn’t she?
“I know you’re all anxious to get started. Please try to keep in mind we aren’t going to reach the top in one day. If everything goes according to plan, it will take a little more than five weeks to get to the summit and two to three days to get down. We’re going to take the ‘climb high, sleep low’ approach to give our bodies adequate time to acclimatize to the thinner air. We will climb as high as we can each day, but we won’t sleep more than a thousand feet higher than we did the day before.”
“It sounds like we’re going to be doing the same two steps forward and one step back dance we did on the way up Everest,” Chance said for Olivia’s benefit.
“If we don’t, the virus you’re fighting will pale in comparison to the altitude sickness you’ll have.” Sam’s voice hardened, letting everyone know her authority and expertise were not to be questioned. “This is a marathon, not a sprint. Save as much strength as possible. You’re going to need every ounce. Today is the easiest leg you’re going to have. Remember that in the morning when the temptation to remain inside your nice, warm sleeping bags will be greater than your desire to subject yourself to more punishment.”
Sam looked almost gleeful as she made the pronouncement. Olivia shook her head in amusement. Mountain c
limbers were cut from a different cloth.
Must be the thin air.
*
Sam stopped to look back at the climbers. Chance, despite his assertions to the contrary during breakfast, was far from okay. Even though they were moving at a snail’s pace, he was struggling mightily, lagging a good twenty feet behind the rest of the pack. If he continued to struggle, she’d have to break out the guide ropes a week early. The one hundred fifty foot tethers bound pairs of climbers to each other, allowing the stronger member of the team to help the weaker one. When the time came, she’d assign Jimmy to Chance. Dr. Bradshaw—Olivia—would be her responsibility. Tenzing could pair with Gigi, Lhakpa with Marie-Eve, and Pasang with Peter. But first things first. If Chance’s performance didn’t improve, not even guide ropes would get him to the summit.
She had expected the altitude to have the least effect on him. He was a professional athlete and a Colorado native, after all. His lung capacity should be higher than the average person’s. She would have figured chain-smoking Peter to be the weak link. After the first thousand feet, however, Peter looked as fresh as a daisy and Chance was gasping for breath.
“Are you sure about today being easy?” he asked during the rest break. He unzipped his jacket to get more air. “I guess this damn virus I caught took more out of me than I thought.”
Sam looked him over. His face was ashen, his breathing labored. “Tomorrow, we’re going to have rougher terrain and ankle-deep mud brought on by precipitation from the storm clouds gathering overhead. Are you fit to continue?” She wasn’t a doctor, but in her layman’s opinion, the answer was no.
He nodded resolutely. “I’ve had harder workouts in training camp. When I tell my grandkids about this trip, I don’t want to start out by saying Grandpa was a quitter.”
“We have to have kids before we can have grandkids, Papi,” Gigi said.
“Maybe we can work on that after we set up camp tonight. Fair warning, everybody. If the tent’s rocking, don’t bother knocking.”
Sam thought Chance’s joke was a lame attempt to deflect attention, but Gigi laughed loyally. “Looks like you’re feeling better already.”
Sam counted heads. “One, two, three, four, five.” Wait. There should be six. She felt a momentary surge of panic before she remembered Roland dropped out before they left base camp. Was Chance about to join him? Giving herself a bit of privacy, she walked a few feet away from the group before she radioed Rae. “Is our guest keeping you and Dr. Curtis entertained?”
“He’s eating us out of house and home is what he’s doing. It’s a good thing the supply truck’s coming by tomorrow or he might make a meal out of me.”
“He wouldn’t be the first.”
“Not that kind of meal. How’s the view up there?”
“Beautiful as always, but I might have to return half the money from our bet.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think I have someone coming down with HAPE.”
“Already?” Rae’s jocularity disappeared as she quickly turned serious.
“HAPE kicks in at twenty-five hundred meters. We’re already well past that. At this point, anyone is susceptible.”
High Altitude Pulmonary Edema was a malady that affected certain climbers regardless of age, health, or physical conditioning. No one knew what made some people more likely to be stricken with the condition than others, but if left untreated, the resulting fluid accumulation in the lungs could prove fatal.
Dr. Curtis’ voice came on the radio. “You’re fortunate to have two physicians on the trail with you. Have you consulted with either of them?”
“Not yet. Neither can be counted on to be objective about this particular patient.”
She backed off, wanting to be wrong. Chance’s presence had added to the media attention the climb had received. If he dropped out, the attention would increase exponentially as every news outlet ran the story. Would Chance’s absence hinder Olivia’s fund-raising efforts or aid them? Would the increased media attention result in unwanted inquiries into her past? She had way too many questions and not nearly enough answers.
“I could be overreacting,” she said. “Perhaps he’s simply coming down with a cold.”
“Perhaps, but perhaps not. We can’t take that chance. How many symptoms of HAPE does the client have?”
Sam watched Chance struggle to catch his breath. “Three so far. His exercise performance is piss poor, he’s having difficulty breathing even when he isn’t exerting himself, and he’s starting to develop a cough. That’s in addition to the nausea and diarrhea he mentioned this morning.”
Dr. Curtis grunted noncommittally. “That’s a tough call. It could be a cold, the remnants of the virus he contracted last night, or a combination of the two. You’d better get Dr. Bradshaw involved. As team leader, she deserves to know what’s going on with each member of her party. She can take a look at him and let me know if she thinks he should abandon the expedition. If so, I’ll arrange transport to the hospital in Kathmandu for further evaluation.”
“You’re right. Best friend or not, I think she’ll put his well-being ahead of his hubris.”
“Keep me posted,” Rae said, assuming control of the radio again. “No matter what happens.”
“Will do. Over and out.”
Almost as if she sensed something was wrong, Olivia joined her as soon as she placed the handset in its cradle. “What’s going on?”
Sam whispered her concerns. “I hate to be an alarmist, but I need you to check Chance’s oxygen levels. If they’re less than ninety percent, we’ll need to—”
A line of concern creased Olivia’s brow. “You think he’s coming down with HAPE.” Sam could tell she was harboring the same suspicions.
“It’s a possibility.”
“He’ll want to stay regardless of my diagnosis. As a physician—as his friend—I can’t allow him to put his life in danger.” Olivia laughed sarcastically, then spread her arms, indicating their surroundings. “Some would say I already have.” She dug her medical bag out of her backpack and approached the group resting in an outcropping of large rocks.
“What’s that for?” Chance asked defensively.
“I’d like to check you out.”
He held out his hands as if to fend her off. “No need, Liv. I’m good.”
“Humor me, okay?” She put the diaphragm of her stethoscope on his chest while everyone else gathered around them. So much for doctor-patient confidentiality. “Deep breath in.”
She closed her eyes as if to block out everything except what was most important—her patient. “Let it out slow. Good.” She moved the diaphragm from the right side of his chest to the left and repeated the process. Then from the front to the back. “No crackles or wheezing and your heart rate’s good.”
“I told you.”
“Before you get too excited, let me check one more thing.” She pulled a small device out of her bag and clamped it on his index finger.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“A pulse oximeter,” Gigi said, obviously concerned. “She’s testing the amount of oxygen in your blood.” She leaned forward when the device beeped. “What does it say?”
Olivia peered at the readout. “Ninety-two.”
Chance looked from Olivia to Gigi and back again. “That’s good, right?” He laughed nervously. “I mean it would have to be. If we were in school, a ninety-two would be an A.”
“Out here, it’s more like a B-plus.” Olivia draped her stethoscope across her neck and held on to the ends. “A reading in the high eighties to low nineties is good. If your levels drop below eighty-seven percent, we’re in trouble.”
“How much trouble?”
“You could be developing what’s known as High Altitude Pulmonary Edema, commonly called HAPE.”
“I can’t pop a pill for that?”
Olivia shook her head. “There’s nothing I can do. Not out here.”
“What about steroids?” Gigi asked
.
“They’d mask the symptoms, but they wouldn’t treat the underlying cause. Plus I wouldn’t want Chance to be linked to steroids because of something I prescribed. Medical reason or not, he’d never live down the stigma.” Olivia addressed her fallen friend. “I’ll take two more readings tomorrow, one while you’re at rest and another while you’re exerting yourself. If either of those readings is below ninety percent, congratulations. You win a trip down the mountain, a weeklong stay in the hospital, and a course of strong diuretics. And that’s the best-case scenario.”
Chance swallowed hard as the reality of the situation hit home. Then he sat ramrod straight. “I promised I’d make this journey with you and you know I never break my promises. When I leave this mountain, I’m walking off on my own two feet. I’m not getting carried off on my back.”
“I want that for you, too,” Olivia said, “but be smart, not stubborn. If your condition gets worse, you could die.”
He looked frightened but tried to cover it with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not gonna happen any time soon. I have way too much to live for.”
Olivia wasn’t swayed by his obvious attempt to charm her into telling him what he wanted to hear instead of what he needed to.
“Like I said, I’m going to give you another twenty-four hours. But you know your body better than I do. If something doesn’t feel right between now and tomorrow, don’t keep it to yourself. Let me or Gigi know ASAP. Deal?”
“You got it, Liv.”
Sam heard a hint of resignation in his voice. He finally seemed to realize his fate didn’t rest in his own hands. Out here, the mountain always had final say.
Gigi rubbed his shoulders. “Thanks, Olivia. I’ll take it from here.” Her voice was shaky, her eyes moist.
Chance patted her hands. “It’s okay, Mami. A good night’s sleep and I’ll be as good as new. You’ll see.”
Murphy's Law Page 4
