Rich and I climbed Mt. St. Helens yesterday. On the way up, my “watcher” (see “Dedoublement” blog) thought up the title for this posting. It was a beautiful day–clear blue skies, perfect temperature. It was an 8-hour climb round trip. They say climbing down a mountain is much harder than climbing up…on the way back, we were almost out of the bouldering section, with just the forest ahead of us, when I took a tumble…I must have fallen 20 feet over gravel and rock before coming to land with my head against a boulder. I put my hand to my head and saw blood streaming through my fingers and dripping on the ground. I knew it was bad, but Rich vocalized it when he got to me, took my hand away and said, “This is really bad…I can see your skull…we have to get you to a hospital.” He put a bandage on it, put my hat on me (I had earlier thought I should leave my hat on in case I fell, for protection, but again, missed opportunity for synchronicity, the weather was so warm I left it off…) with the head lamp over it to keep my skin together over my skull, and we walked the hour and a half out through the now dark forest. Then a 2-hour drive to the hospital where my daughter, Rachel and the grands, Renee and Paige, met us with food and insurance cards. Three hours and 16 + stitches later, I’ve been put back together by the talented resident, Dr. Brian Cashin .
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