Learning to Trust My Instincts at 13,000 ft
Last year I took a Wilderness First Responder course through NOLS. It is an intensive ten-day program that trains students to recognize, treat, and prevent injuries and illnesses that are common in the outdoors. I put that training to use last week on a family ski trip to the mountains high above Denver, and learned a lesson valuable about trusting my gut.
DAY 1
From the moment we arrived to Arapahoe Basin, the patient, an athletic 30-year-old and the best skier of our group, started demonstrated the classic symptoms of altitude illness: headache, nausea and fatigue. But that didn’t stop him from out-skiing us despite a white-out snow squall at the summit (13,050 ft above sea level) that forced the rest of us further down to the base seeking hot cocoa and easier trails.
Later that afternoon, new symptoms developed: dry cough, shortness of breath and elevated heart and respiratory rate. My first thought was High Altitude Pulmonary Edema (HAPE), the deadliest form of altitude illness. But that sounded alarmist the moment I said it aloud, so I started overthinking it - maybe he was just run-down from a busy work scheduled, or picked up a bug on the flight from New York, or had the flu which was spreading fast. Then I started searching for other explanations on Google and WebMD.
DAY 2
He continued to ski the hardest runs as the weather worsened. Luckily for him (and us) the mountain closed the lifts early, ending our day before lunchtime. He looked terrible on the ride home — but confirmation bias was telling me it was the flu, even though a nagging voice in the back of my head kept saying it was HAPE.
That night his cough turned wet, a telltale sign of HAPE, just in time for a blizzard to close the roads on and off the mountain and keep the mobile doctor from reaching our condo. The sound of his wheezing and labored breathing through the night was grim reminder that I should have trusted my initial “snap” judgement based on many hours of studying and preparation.
DAY 3
It was first bluebird day of the trip. Instead of racing for first chair, we were first in line at the nearest urgent care clinic where he was officially diagnosed with HAPE. After a day of forced O2 and rest we were able to evacuate him from the mountain
KEY TAKEAWAYS
More data doesn’t always help us make better decisions
Our instincts can be more accurate than our logic
Trust experience and insight
