Expedition Hope

This past Wednesday, I had the opportunity to give an Expedition Hope presentation to members of the NAMI (National Alliance for Mental Illness) Indianapolis chapter. It was a nice turnout, and I got the chance to speak directly with several people who either personally battle with depression and other mental illnesses or who have a passion for our cause for various other reasons. Everyone was generous in their appreciation of the EH mission and helping bring further awareness and education to a difficult and challenging illnesses. I would like to especially thank NAMI Indianapolis Executive Director Edward Alexander and his staff for organizing this event. My wife and I, with Expedition Hope, are proud members of NAMI Indianapolis, and we look forward to working together in the future to continue our joint missions of depression awareness and education.

Although it has been, on some levels, a quiet summer, in other ways the weeks have seemed to fly by in a flurry. It’s hard to believe that we’re already approaching the end of July. And I can’t believe that it has been a few weeks since our last post.

As previously mentioned, after arriving home in May from my second attempt of Mt. McKinley (Denali), I received an official diagnosis of bronchitis from my physician. I began a round of antibiotics, returned back to work full time and began to get back to training. However, after two weeks I continued to feel utterly depleted, so I went back to the doctor. Further exploration offered a different diagnosis – Mononucleosis (or Mono, for short). My doctor believes I could have had the virus in my system as early as February, when I was on Mt. Aconcagua in Argentina.

Those who have had Mono know full well some of the manifestations: extreme fatigue, fever, headaches and swollen lymph glands. The treatment is basic: plenty of rest and no strenuous training for a few weeks. Although I have done some training, I have still not resumed the frequency or intensity that is necessary for an expedition. It is fortunate that we did not have any further climbs planned for this year.

However, the Expedition Hope mission will continue, and we will soon start finalizing plans for 2009. We are currently working with local organizations to further our message of depression awareness and education, as well as plans for future climbs, and will relay those accordingly. Please continue to check back for further updates.

I’d like to once again state my sincerest gratitude to Eli Lilly and Company for their continued support of Expedition Hope and its mission to raise awareness about depression and the importance of seeking help.

As always, many thanks to my wife, family, friends, co-workers and management at Shiel Sexton Company for their continued support, as well as to everyone at Indy Crossfit. I could not do this with out all of you!

Finally, my heartfelt thanks to all of you who battle with depression or who have also lost a loved one to suicide, and to those who offer continued support, encouraging me to stay the course with our mission. We will continue to raise awareness about this illness and to educate others that depression is treatable. Thank you!

Just about two weeks ago, my wife and I attended a local “NAMI (National Alliance for Mental Illness) Walk” here in Indianapolis. Just a 5K walk, it was not intended as any sort of competitive event, but rather a chance for people to come and show support for raising awareness about depression and other mental illnesses.

For those of you who are not local, Indiana has been having some severe weather lately. Our last three weekends have featured amazing displays of lightening and more rain than we’ve had in something like 100 years, with severe flooding to many areas of our state. The morning of the NAMI Walk was no exception. We woke on a Saturday morning to loud thunder and sheets of rain pounding our windows. We knew the event would probably be cancelled – especially with the tremendous lightening bolts flashing through the sky. But we thought we would venture out in the storm and drive to the event just in case Mother Nature decided to “give us a break.”

We arrived at the starting location to discover that the event had been cancelled. But rather than being greeted with an empty parking lot, we found a large crowed gathered under a tent, where volunteers accepted donations, handed out goody bags and T-shirts, and would-be walkers cheerily welcomed each other and took some time to stop and chat. We stayed for about a half an hour, watching a stream of people who continued to arrive – even in dangerous weather conditions – to participate in a 5k walk and support mental health. It was really great to see!

We look forward to working with our local NAMI organization to help further depression awareness and education, and we encourage you to check out and support your local mental health organizations as well. For more information, please click on the “Links” page at the right.

Today is once again the day when we celebrate and pay tribute to our fathers. As I continue to get older (I’m currently 38), it really is interesting to me how I view things much differently than when I was younger. I have mentioned in previous messages how it has hurt and been difficult over the years — especially on “special” days — to experience all the many things in daily life in which my father has not been here to share: graduations, weddings and the births of my nieces and nephews, just to name a few. I still wish everyday that I had my father to call and say hello … maybe even go play a game of golf or enjoy a sporting event with … just like I see others do.

As I go through this day, I will be thinking of my father and wishing he would have gotten the help he needed to battle his depression. I believe he would very likely still be with us today, and we would be spending this day with him and I wouldn’t be writing this. However, I am here writing, and it is again why I have taken on this mission to encourage those who battle with the illness of depression to please seek the help and treatment that is available today. Be around to enjoy life, to enjoy your children and families.

I’d like to extend a very Happy Father’s Day to my father-in-law, my two brothers and to all my close friends who are fathers, as well as to all dads out there. Enjoy the day!

I am now approaching three weeks being back home from my second attempt of North America’s highest mountain, Denali. This time has mostly been spent trying to fully recover from what ended up being a good case of bronchitis — my doctor called it “a complete depletion of my immune system.” In addition to getting back to work, I’ve been focused on regaining my health and getting back my full strength. I am finally getting there.

Before I write more, I want to first extend congratulations to my Denali teammates who ended up making the summit! I have been very fortunate to have met and climbed with outstanding people on every single expedition I have experienced. Also, I wanted to give “kudos” to the great guides we had — Dave, Jacob and Greg from Mountain Trip. They are consummate professionals.

I usually post my climb reflections after each expedition in a more timely manner; however, 2008 was very simply a tough and difficult year for me from a climbing standpoint. I really felt very prepared for both of the 2008 climbs. Getting to more than 18,000 feet on Argentina’s Mt. Aconcagua in February, and having to turn around due to a very low blood oxygen saturation (61%) was extremely disappointing. Then, preparing for my return to the very mountain that began the Expedition Hope mission in 2005, Denali, only to again become extremely ill and have to turn around has been very difficult for me. (Especially as Greg told my wife via sat phone, “He’s as strong as an ox; he was rockin’ this mountain.”)

These past few weeks have really been difficult for me, and have once again forced me to do a great deal of reevaluating and soul searching. My overriding thought is, “Can I do this any longer?” Each time I leave for a climb, my mother and my siblings get very nervous for my safety, and there are always tears at the airport. Our mother has already buried two husbands and two children, and I know the danger of these mountains frightens her. I know in the back of her mind, she’s thinking that she doesn’t want to bury a third child. Yet she always supports me and the reason why I embarked on this mission, but, as you can imagine, all of it weighs very heavily on my mind.

Then there’s my wife, who spares me tears at the airport in order to give me strength. She repeatedly tells me how independent she is, and that the time and distance apart is no problem because she knows how much I love her, and that our sacrifices and efforts will be worth it when she hears my call from the summit. I feel like I let her – and everyone else who supports us – down, even though she reiterates to me that it is the message and the process of perseverance and hope that make these expeditions worthwhile, summit or not. Still, this weighs on my mind too.

One of my Denali guides, Greg, who climbed back down to base camp with me, said something to me that really struck a chord. He obviously knew about the Expedition Hope mission, and he understood my utter disappointment about getting sick when I wanted more than anything to continue. Greg told me, “But if climbing a mountain was easy, everyone would be doing it.”

And it also seems that when I am at my lowest after climb without a summit, I always receive an uplifting email message from a friend or fellow climber. The following came last week from a teammate with whom I climbed — and summited — Russia’s Mt. Elbrus in 2007. Tom is an attorney from Denver, Colorado, and his kind words came at a particularly low point for me:

Joe,
Sorry to hear about you getting bronchitis on the mountain. I was going to email you sooner but I figured you needed to deal with a bunch of stuff and decompress. There certainly aren’t any guarantees on these peaks. I just heard from Roy (another teammate from our Elbrus trip) and he got to 20,000 feet on Aconcagua before his head hurt so bad that he had to retreat. Only 4 of the 14 made the summit. You’re young and driven … plus you have a message which is much bigger than you or any mountain. Push ahead as you always will.
Best wishes, Tom

Although the entire email message was uplifting to me, Tom’s last sentence, and Greg’s comment, were what I needed to hear the most. So, I am going to push ahead and continue to realize that our ultimate message is about overcoming challenges and persevering in the face of what seems like insurmountable odds. (On a side note, at this very moment, Tom is currently in Alaska trying his first attempt at Denali. I wish him a safe and successful climb!)

My father battled with the living hell called depression, and he ultimately lost his battle with the illness. We have stated since Day One that our mission is to help and encourage others who live with the daily battles and struggles of depression, or those who also lost a loved one to suicide, to know there is help and treatment available, and that there is no shame in talking about it and seeking treatment! The illness of depression can certainly be more difficult then climbing a mountain. But it’s facing the daily “climb” and taking step after step that will eventually help overcome this illness.

So, where do we go from here? I need listen to my very own message and continue with our mission, that’s where we go from here. Due to the “climb season” of the mountains, we knew over a year ago that 2008 would not hold any expeditions in the second half of the year. That plan has not changed. We currently have not set any 2009 plans in stone, but please continue to check back for updates.

Again, my sincerest gratitude to Eli Lilly and Company for their continued support of Expedition Hope and its mission to raise awareness about depression and the importance of seeking help. Thank you!

As always, many thanks to my wife, family, friends, co-workers and management at Shiel Sexton Company for all your continued support, as well as to everyone at Indy Crossfit. I could not do this with out all of you!

And as always, my heartfelt thanks to all of you who battle with depression or who have also lost a loved one to suicide and who offer continued support, encouraging me to stay the course with our mission, continuing to raise awareness about the illness and to educate others that depression is treatable. I will continue with our mission with you in my heart and mind. I know we are helping to make a difference.

Thank you!
Joe

Joe is home now and has spent the last two weeks recovering from bronchitis and getting back to work. He is still finalizing his 2008 Mt. McKinley expedition reflections, which we’ll have posted soon. In the meantime, we’ve got a few photos from the expedition to share. Please click on the “Photos – Mt. McKinley (2008)” link at the right. Thank you!

On Friday, Joe told me, with what was left of his voice, “I’m still coughing up things that are brown, green and yellow… it looks like a science project!” Fortunately, the weather at Base Camp broke, and Joe was able to fly back to Talkeetna. After a “real” dinner with a group of about 10 others who were leaving the mountain, they finished compiling gear and eventually made their way back to Anchorage.

In the interim, I was able to change Joe’s original flight plans, and, about 24 hours later, he arrived back in Indy. I was happy to see him again, although we both wished our reunion were under different circumstances. Even though Joe has been on long climbs before, I was surprised at the amount of weight he’d lost in just two weeks during this expedition. (He dropped 15 lbs.) After we settled in at home, he slept for the next 16 hours. Although his fever has returned to normal and his voice is mostly restored, he still has a decent cough with some chest pain. A trip to the doctor’s on Monday verified the diagnosis of bronchitis.

I don’t have any details yet about the rest of the team at this time, but Joe will touch base with Adam and some others after their scheduled return. The last word we had was good news that the group is doing well, although we don’t have specifics on individuals. Joe will post his reflections and other thoughts soon. Thank you!

Early Tuesday morning, the climbers had anticipated, due to the heavy snow, that the group would spend another day or two stuck at their current position. However, the lead guide Dave basically said “Let’s go; we’re moving on,” and they packed up camp and began the long climb back up Motorcycle Hill to establish the next camp at higher ground.

Even with the snow, things were going well when, after about 4 ½ hours, Joe became very ill. A persistent bad cough producing mucus mixed with some blood was enough to make Dave immediately send Joe to a lower altitude. Accompanied by assistant guide Greg, the two made their way through the snow back down to the 11,000-foot camp. And as quickly as the winds were blowing, dreams of a summit on this expedition were brought to an end.

Via satellite phone, Joe could certainly tell my disappointment on his behalf. Once again, having dreams, goals and months of hard work and sacrifices abruptly changed due to something totally beyond your control … well, quite frankly, it more than sucks. I know how angry I feel at the quick reversal of fortune. And it’s not even my expedition; I’m not the one who put in the training or who has been living in a tent in the snow and ice and cold. So I can’t really imagine Joe’s emotions. Although I think he was too sick to fully register them yet.

I could hear Greg in the background, telling Joe how he had certainly been prepared for this trip. “You were (expletive) rocking that mountain,” he said. “You’re as strong as an ox.” But on Tuesday, that was an ox that was coughing mucus and blood accompanied by a high fever … dangerous news at altitude.

Rules on Denali are very strict that climbers must always travel in rope teams of at least three due to safety reasons. So, Joe and Greg had to wait at camp until another climber was ready to descend as well. They got their third person on Wednesday morning, with a man from another group. The three made it back to Base Camp on Wednesday afternoon, a descent Joe only described as “grueling.”

When we spoke on Wednesday evening, Joe’s voice was mostly gone, and his speech was punctuated with bursts of forceful coughing. At the first aid tent, bronchitis was deemed the likely culprit, and his temperature reading – even in that cold atmosphere and without other physical exertion – was 102.3*.

With the snow and wind, current weather conditions are not favorable for flying, and the small Cessna planes that come to the Kahiltna Glacier were grounded for the evening. Once the planes receive flight clearance, Joe will return to Talkeetna. Communication reports estimated that these weather conditions would last until Friday, but as we know all too well, things on Denali can change in an instant. That, at least in the case of weather, would be a good thing at the moment.

Sunday’s activity involved climbing with heavy packs and sleds to cache gear at about 13,500 feet. This ascent involved going up what is known as Motorcycle Hill and Windy Corner. This was the area where Joe fell through the crevasse in 2005 and injured his knee. However, this time, everything was fine.

After a long, hard day, the group descended back to camp at 11,000 to sleep. Joe said it was sunny for a while but extremely cold. “I thought my nose was frozen,” he said. At the end of the day, everyone was exhausted and ready for some hot liquids and food. By then, the sunny blue skies had turned snow-filled.

Plans for the next day were to move up to the 14,000-foot camp. However, I got a call from Joe mid-morning (Indianapolis time) on Monday. With the time change (Alaska is four hours earlier than Indianapolis), it’s usually very late in my evening when I get a chance to talk to him. So, I know a call “too early” is not usually a great sign. Lo and behold, the group, and all the other teams in the vicinity — about 30 climbers total — were stuck in complete blizzard conditions with heavy snow and high winds. It’s obviously too dangerous to climb in this type of weather. Someone could walk, or get blown, right off the mountain. So, Joe and his teammates spent most of the day in their tents.

Current weather reports their getting from Base Camp said that the storm was not predicted to ease up until Thursday. I know the thought of four days trapped inside a small tent when you’re anxious to get moving is certainly not a pleasant idea. However, just as quickly as a storm comes in, it has the potential to blow out, so I’m hopeful that these conditions will pass quickly so the group can get moving once again.

Just a quick update due to my currently limited internet access. On Friday, the climbers moved the rest of the gear and made camp at 11,000-feet. I was able to talk to Joe briefly last night on the satellite phone. He and everyone are in good spirits. I’d also like to relay a special “I love you!” to Kristi from Adam, who, along with Jason, is Joe’s tent mate. More news later!