Twenty One Days: Mike Rocks Everest

I wonder what twenty thousand feet elevation must feel like. Mike had been training hard and I felt quite confident as the Everest trip dawned that he would be physically prepared for the trip. He had been training every day at his local gym, we had both been trekking locally whenever we could spare the time, Mike had slept in an oxygen tent and he had also been tested vigorously to check how he would most likely cope with the altitude. I’m happy to say, Mike passed with flying colours. He has a remarkable resting pulse rate of 46 which must explain his positive laid back and calm peace of mind.

Now Mike is in remission, I was still initially concerned about him embarking upon such a trip, so soon after chemotherapy. Mike still has maintenance therapy every two months which involves a day in hospital where he receives the super drug, rituximab intravenously. Rituximab most likely saved his life initially when this was administered with the full-on chemo therapy. Rituximab is a fairly new drug, a very expensive drug and Mike was very lucky to receive it. In the whirlwind days which followed his diagnosis, the lumps on Mike’s necks were bulging (funny how we had never noticed them previously). It was only on the morning of Christmas Eve (the day after Mike’s first chemo) that Mike called me excitedly to touch his neck! Incredibly, there was no sign of the lumps! In that instance, I felt deep down that we had some kind of fighting chance.

I understand Mike’s need to live his life to the full. The shadow of cancer will never fully leave us. I will never forget the two separate most frightening days of our lives; bizarrely set 10 years apart – first in 1995 and then in 2005 – when we were taken into a small white room by a doctor and told that Mike had cancer – with no certainty of the future ahead. In 1995, Mike refused all treatment and we headed off to the North East to fulfill a concert engagement and then on to America for an acoustic tour. Mike consulted a faith healer and decided to kit himself out in green army fatigues (after being told that green was his lucky colour). I privately thought he was mad and wished he had started the chemotherapy. In fact Mike had been advised to have a transplant. All Mike could do was trust his instinct. Looking back, Mike experienced a spontaneous remission and probably over the last ten years, the cancer had been slowly creeping back, this time as CLL and not non hodgkins lymphoma. Whatever, Mike’s instincts were right and I’ve never really doubted his decision making from that day.

Until Everest, that is ;) Mike consulted with his Guardian Angel, Doctor Edwards who provided him with all the necessary medication Mike may need, should he fall ill on his trip. Whilst Mike is in remission, he is most likely as fit as you and I, as his immunity is normal. With two young children bringing in all kinds of childhood diseases (Dylan just developed chicken pox half way through last months’ trip to New York and Evan has just recovered this week). I am still slightly paranoid about Mike being ill. Years ago, a common cold, cough, sore throat wouldn’t have been given a moment’s thought. Now, I’m on high alert for a cough being a warning sign of something more sinister that maybe his immunity is weakening. This is why I was nervous about Everest. Mike is not a fuss pot. That’s my job. Miles away from me, there was no way for me to check that he was taking care of himself 100%.

Now Mike has departed, I’m less concerned. What will be will be. I held my breath for slightly longer the other night when he was flying into Lukla as I knew the landing strip was like a postage stamp! I tried calling him on the satellite phone to check that he had landed safely but of course was unable to make a connection. This was such a contrast to Mike’s absence on tour in July this year as I was able to call, text, email at any moment in time. It does make a difference having hardly any contact at all. Just as I was leaving the house, my home phone kept ringing and after half an hour of punctured “Hi Jules! It’s me”, I grasped the concept that Mike must have landed safe and sound.

The next call was from Radio Wales, trying to track Mike down on his satellite phone. Before I knew it, with Evan cooing loudly in the background and in the absence of Mike, I was being interviewed live on air about the progress of Everest Rocks. Life is never boring.

Later that night and higher up the Himalaya, I was able to chat for some time with my other half and my first impression was that Mike’s voice sounded different. Must have been the altitude as he claimed to have had only one Everest beer! Mike sounded elated. In his 48 years Mike has travelled extensively but I could tell that he hadn’t quite experienced anything like this culture collision. He sounded humbled and awed and despite missing the three of us, I knew he was having the time of his life. Long it may be continue...