( continued from page 29)
day, the guides invited us to be lowered approximately 30 feet into a crevasse. A teammate would hook up a Z-pulley and haul you out. I immediately thought, NO WAY! Who volunteered first? Of course, Dr. Post. Now my dilemma was either go back to Louisville and explain why a 40-year-old would not follow in the footsteps of his 65-year-old partner, or to descend. I did so and was fascinated by the deep blue colors in the dark crevasse.
I met Dr. Terry Henkel briefly on our visit in April 1979. His initial question,“ Did you bring your running gear?” I nodded.“ Good, I will pick you up tomorrow morning because you are running in the Louisville mini-marathon.” That led to years of running together late Wednesday nights through Cherokee Park. My only problem with Terry was for the first few years I would sit with Jerry Lacy and him during our monthly meetings. They would“ whisper” incredibly funny stuff without cracking a smile, and I would start laughing and receive stern glances.
Starting in 1986, Jerry and I traveled together over the globe on expedition trips that were unforgettable. I could write volumes on our trips but will mention a few trips that highlight Jerry’ s leadership on these adventures. One trip was to bike the perimeter of Baja California, Mexico. The small group included a younger couple from Southern California who rode very expensive touring bikes. The couple finished first each day. The final day was a long ride across the interior of the peninsula to get back to the starting point. Riding our rented bikes, Jerry told me we would finish first that day. We started out slow, picked up pace and were first to the final destination. Jerry and I“ felt responsible” when we observed a very testy exchange between husband and wife at the end of the trip.
While the classic trip to the base camp of Everest was 30 days,“ Mountain Travel” advertised a two-week trip flying to Lukla at 10,000 feet and immediately hiking without acclimatization. The second night we stopped at the Hillary School, approximately 12,000 feet. I was lying in our tent in frigid conditions with my heart racing and short of breath. I heard Jerry laughing with the sherpas in the next tent. I asked him if I was going to die.“ No,” he replied and went back to the Sherpa tent. Before I knew it, morning arrived and we were off again. One year later we climbed Kilimanjaro on a similarly arranged shortened time frame giving no time for acclimatization. The last 1,500 feet to the peak we struggled three steps to one breath. Once we arrived home, the VHS video the guide had filmed clearly showed Jerry’ s gait was classic for cerebellar ataxia. Fortunately, we had immediately descended from the peak to 12,000 feet over a long 10-mile hike.
The greatest highlight of Jerry’ s leadership came on that same trip to climb Kilimanjaro. After the climb, we had instructed the guide to make reservations for two safaris with excellent accommodations. We arrived at the first park at night in the rain. Rather than staying at the park accommodations, the guide drove into the forest and started putting up a tent. The pouring rain momentarily prevented him from completing the tent set-up and he came back to the vehicle. Within minutes we watched an elephant trample across the site. Jerry informed the guide he was fired. Jerry took control and within an hour we were staying at the park accommodations with great views, great beds and excellent food. Jerry made the same type of reservation at the second park, elevating him to the level of“ superb guide.”
Sir William Osler said,“ Medicine is a science of uncertainty and an art of probability. The practice of medicine is an art, not a trade; a calling, not a business; a calling in which your heart will be exercised equally with your head.” When I reflect on my early years at CVA, I learned the art of the practice of medicine from these doctors. Whether a quick phone call or a direct conversation, I knew I had eight doctors available immediately for“ sidewalk consultations.” As part of the art of medicine, I observed personal relationships also strengthened our collaboration in the clinical setting. I cherish the activities I engaged with these doctors including running, biking, fishing, climbing, playing tennis and golf. These deeper personal relationships contributed to a supportive environment, both in my calling as a physician and in my personal life.
Dr. Dageforde is a retired interventional cardiologist.
30 LOUISVILLE MEDICINE