Chasse’s Thoughts on Climbing Kilimanjaro

The following is Chasse Bailey-Dorton’s “Thoughts on Climbing Kilimanjaro and Cancer Survivorship.” She is one of my Survivor Summit teammates, as well as a breast cancer survivor and doctor. Read on for her poignant writing…

“From my personal experience, the similarity between climbing Mount Kilimanjaro and the experience of cancer survivorship is overwhelming.

When you first hear the word ‘cancer,’ the immediate thoughts that run through your mind include ‘I can’t do this,’ ‘fear,’ ‘overwhelmed,’ ‘scared’ which are recurrent thoughts during different stages of the route to climb Kilimanjaro. Even the thought of death sneaks into your mind as you assess some of the perilous portions of the Kilimanjaro climb, which is certainly a big part of the cancer experience.

The first phase of preparing to climb Kilimanjaro is the gathering or your needed gear list. The first phase of cancer diagnosis has a similar stage: gathering CT/MRI scans results, lab results, physical exam and biopsy/pathology results. Once you have all your information and equipment you are ready to select your route and proceed with the journey.

On the Kilimanjaro climb, you only take one short slow step at a time with all your attention on where you will place your foot for the next step. Your attention cannot waiver to even enjoy the surrounding scenery for fear of a miss-step. If you look ahead (i.e., worry about what comes next) the path seems daunting and unachievable but with your head down and focused on each moment, you make the day’s journey one small step at a time. Our African guides continuously reminded us to ‘pole, pole’ which is Swahili means “slowly, gently, softly, quietly; be calm, take it quietly.

On the Kili climb, you have guides, which advise you and lead you on the correct path at the correct speed. In survivorship, our guides are our physicians and navigators. Near the summit it was so cold

that at times I needed my guide to help me with the simple task of putting my gloves back onto my hands. In cancer, you often have to ask for assistance with the simple tasks of life.

On the Kili climb, you have porters, whose job is to carry all your needed equipment (tents, food, equipment, luggage, etc.). In survivorship, we have many resources to help us carry the load—such as oncology nurses and the LIVESTRONG Organization.

On the Kili climb, we have our teammates who help encourage, motivate and inspire us each day. In survivorship, we have our friends and other survivors who play this role.

Finally, we have our tentmates on the climb and in survivorship we have our family who are there with us day and night, minute by minute, even when we are weak, tired and dirty—they are there to share our lives and experience.

While climbing Kilimanjaro, your body and mind has to continually adjust to smaller amounts of available oxygen as you reach higher altitude, which often leads to fatigue and shortness of breath. The journey through cancer survivorship often leaves you feeling the exact same way!

So while both ‘mountains’ seem insurmountable, by taking small slow steps with the help of guides, porters, teammates and tentmates—if you ‘pole, pole’—then you will indeed reach the summit of whatever mountain you are facing! So thank you LIVESTRONG and Survivor Summit for teaching me another valuable lesson regarding life and cancer survivorship! “Pole, Pole ya’ll.’”

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Pole Pole

Well, I got back from climbing Kilimanjaro in Tanzania a few days ago, and I’ve been mindful to take it easy as I adjust back into my daily life. At first, I envisioned blogging and posting as many pictures as possible to share with everyone. But now, I’ve noticed that I need a little more time to process the amazing journey I’ve just made.

I hope to ease into blogging about the climb over these next few days and weeks. In the meantime, I think it’s important to note that I miss the camaraderie of my teammates, as well as the simplicity of life on the mountain—waking up, eating, hiking, hiking, hiking some more, eating, sleeping, and doing it all over again the next day. All I had to do was put one foot in front of the other, and think about the amazing stories of survival and strength in the fight against cancer (which inspired me to climb in the first place). It was refreshing to be outside and witness such beautiful scenery and people each and every day.

And now, after hours of traveling in safari vehicles and on big planes, I’m finally home. I have to be ready to go back to work tomorrow, too.

Yet despite my excitement for a hot shower, clean laundry, my bed, and access to refrigerated food, I find myself feeling a little unsettled. For example, it seemed really odd to go grocery shopping on Saturday after having witnessed Tanzanian children beg for food at the base of the mountain. I also dropped and spilled an entire gallon of apple juice later that day, and felt very wasteful. 

This isn’t the first time I’ve confronted these types of emotions. I’ve negotiated these feelings after getting back from Semester at Sea and my Texas 4000 for Cancer bike ride. As a result, I know it will take time to get over the initial culture shock that often accompanies a transformative experience.

However, there are certain aspects of my life on the mountain that I hope I carry with me for a long time, such as: taking time to notice the great beauty in various people, personalities, and scenes of nature; being patient with myself as I tackle challenges; and always remembering that I’ve got it really, really good in comparison to many other folks out there.

During the climb, our guides would speak to us in Swahili and say, “pole pole,” or “slowly” or “gently” so that we wouldn’t overexert ourselves while climbing. I’m thinking of that phrase a lot today, namely because I’d prefer to still be on the mountain, bonding with my teammates, and having our guides and porters take care of us. That mindset makes me realize the irony in that what was initially a challenging and slightly scary experience for me is now my new comfort zone. 

So, I will go pole pole back to “normal” life tomorrow. In doing so, I aim to be a little more pensive to make this transition easier. Additionally, I hope the phrase reminds me to slow down and appreciate life more often…even when 19,341 foot mountains are many thousands of miles away.

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Lisa's reflections on summitting Kilimanjaro and raising over $10,000 for cancer programs and services at LIVESTRONG.