So the dear Hubsters and I headed off for three days of snow filled fun in the beautiful Lake Tahoe on Wednesday. I love Tahoe, it is picturesque and I love to ski, though this time we had decided to try snowboarding. Wednesday was great, we took out time, drove up in the mid afternoon, had dinner, played some slots, then headed off to bed to start early in the morning.
Thursday dawned bright and beautiful and my body revolted. I was sitting at breakfast having a total deja vu moment from the previous year. Headache, nausea, cold sweats, body aches, extreme desire to lay down immediately. Nothing helped, not coffee, not toast, nothing. I remembered sitting in almost the exact same position in 2009 and going through these same symptoms, so Hubsters pulls out the trusted iPhone and tries to see what it could possibly be.
Going on the experience of the previous year, I grabbed some Excedrin and went back to the hotel for some sleep. Waking up a few hours later, I felt better, which was much in the same vein as my prior experience. Eh, just a migraine induced by the travel, elevation, oxygen pumped into the casino, etc. Off to the slopes we go. Of course it is too late to schedule a lesson, so much against my better judgement, I allow Hubsters to convince me to rent snowboards and head to the snow covered hills, sans experience. Remember that scene from Pretty Woman when Julia Roberts returns to the store on Rodeo with the really rude sale women and tells them their treatment was a BIG mistake. HUGE. Imagine that scene interjected here.
So, now having ignored the dizzy spells on the conveyor belt ride up the bunny hill, I strap both my feet onto the ice skateboard and gingerly head down the hill.
Note to self: Those puppies move fast and you are not 17 any longer. Falling down on solid snowpack will bring tears to your eyes, hurt to your pride, and a serious pain to your backside.
I now perform this lovely little jerk-hard-grab-something-for-stability movement every time I cough or sneeze because it make my tailbone feel like it is exploding. NOT cool.
To say the least, the snowboarding attempt was at best, a failure. We planned to return the next morning for lessons, but we never made it. Within the hour, I was experiencing the queasiness, cold sweats, want to lay down immediately thing again and was crawling back to the hotel room. I spent 45 minutes in the fetal position in the tub with the hottest water possible pouring on my body, then plowed onto the bed, where I passed out again for hours.
Now, let me continue to make this long story long by pointing out I consider myself a pretty hardy sort. I have lived in some drastic conditions, my home in Oregon is at 3000 feet elevation, I have skied for many years on many different mountains, I have hiked with packs, kayaked the Puget Sound, built platforms for Boy Scout camp tent, and I travel frequently. I do not get motion sickness, even in the most extreme situations and can read a book in a warm car on a mountain road.
So, when the Hubsters suggested I might be suffering from Altitude Sickness, I looked at him like he was crazy. Me? Altitude Sickness? No way.
Then we woke up this morning. I felt good. I was ready to give the slopes an afternoon try. Until about two hours after I woke up and I popped that first bite of croissant in my mouth. It all went downhill from there.
Now, 12 hours later, I am sitting in the comfort of my own home. We called it quits on the trip and brought my wimpy butt back down to sea level where I seem to be doing a lot better. Hopefully tomorrow will dawn with no queasiness and I can take on my impromptu trip to LA for CHA with a clear head.