I had no choice but to come back home from Greece and go back to that thing called a J-O-B. It hardly compared to crystal blue waters but what are you going to do. Toward the end of June, I traveled to Denver for a work conference. Kyle came with me, and when it was over, we traveled south to see his family in Pueblo. We went with his cousin Karen to a wolf habitat. It was a lovely scenic drive to the sanctuary. It was also about 10,000 feet above sea level, a fact that would become very important to me very quickly. We were standing outside with the others in our tour group, getting an orientation to the wolves, their migration, their habitat, etc. Just standing there. Doing nothing. And once again, I had to bend down to get some blood to my head because I thought I was going to pass out. This was a walking tour, but not a long walk. I think not even a mile. But there was no way I could do it. I was already getting sick just standing there. Karen and Kyle went ahead on the tour and I returned to the visitor center area and messaged Rose. “I don’t understand why this is happening. I wasn’t doing anything. I was just standing there.”
Oh that Rose. She’s so wise. “What’s the elevation there? Is it high?” “Yeah, they said it was about 10,000 feet.” “You do not have normal oxygenation of your blood to start with, the elevation makes that all the more severe, dumbass!” Okay, the dumbass was implied but the rest of her message was verbatim. That hadn’t even occurred to me. I was sad. I missed out on the wolves.
(This isn’t a wolf, but my dog Zeke. Close enough.)
Low, Low, Low 