CHAPTER ELEVEN
127 hours
126 hrs 18 mins
3:03 pm
The steep trail is ahead. Even with Eric's help, I know I won't be able to climb it. 'How will I ever get out of here?' I ask myself… A noise somewhere above me answers the question. It's a helicopter! A helicopter to take me to the hospital. I can't believe it! It doesn't seem real. I sit down and wait as a man jumps to the ground and walks towards me. 'Are you Aron Ralston?' he asks. 'Yes.'
A second man gets out of the helicopter and they help me inside. I ask one of the men to get my climbing bag. Eric gives it to him. 'Thank you, Eric,' I say. 'Thanks for everything.' I wave goodbye as the helicopter rises into the air. I sit behind the pilot and watch blood pour slowly down my arm.
Be strong, Aron. You're almost safe. 'Keep him talking,' the pilot says to his partner. 'Where are we going?' I ask the second man. 'We're taking you to the hospital in Moab,' he replies. 'How long will that take?' 'It's about twelve minutes from here.' He asks me what happened in the canyon and I begin telling my story. By the time I finish, we are circling around Moab. I look down and see an area of green grass below.
This gets bigger as we move down towards it. I realize we are landing in front of the hospital. A man who looks like a policeman is standing with two nurses in white coats on the hospital steps. The helicopter lands and the nurses carry me into the building. They put me in an empty room. The man walks in and introduces himself. 'Hi, Aron. I'm Steve, and I'm a Park Ranger.'
As the nurses take off my shoes, I ask Steve to let my mother know that I'm OK and to arrange for someone to collect all the things I left at Horseshoe Canyon. 'I'll do that when we've finished here,' Steve replies. He wants to know what happened in the canyon.
Once again, I tell my story. It's the third time I've done this in two hours. When I finish, I can see that Steve wants to ask me a lot of questions. He doesn't get the chance. A doctor comes back into the room with a large needle.
'Wait!' I say as she goes to put it into my skin. 'I have a problem with needles. I sometimes go into shock. I fell out of a chair once.' The doctor looks surprised. 'You mean you're not in shock already?' 'I don't know,' I reply. 'Look, do you want this for the pain or not?' 'Damn it, yes!' I say. I continue talking to Steve as the needle goes into my arm.
127 hrs
3:45 pm
I suddenly hear another man's voice. He sounds like a doctor. He pulls at the things over my right arm and asks Steve what they are. 'There are a couple of tourniquets under there,' Steve replies. 'No, just one,' I whisper. I look at the clock on the wall. It's 3:45 pm on Thursday, May 1st. I realize that my nightmare has lasted for exactly 127 hours. It's my last thought before falling into a long, deep sleep.
EPILOGUE
My rescue was only the first part of a long, difficult fight back to health. In that first month, I had five operations. I was also taking eighteen different medicines a day. Most were for the pain and to fight the poison in my blood. While I was taking them, I couldn't do anything well. I couldn't sleep and my thoughts were unclear.
After ten days in the hospital, I went home. A week later, I was back in the hospital in Denver for my fifth and most difficult operation. The time I woke up after the operation was the lowest point after my escape. I felt terrible. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep and I was still in pain. Later, I discovered that I nearly died. However, by May 25th, I was home to stay.
The following weeks were difficult for my family. I was like a child again, unable to do anything for myself. Slowly, however, things got better. I was soon eating normal food and by the end of the summer, I was the same weight as before the accident. By this time, I had a prosthetic arm. I learnt to use it quite well. I felt pleased. It wouldn't be long before I would be able to go climbing again. Of course, I didn't tell my mother that.
On August 31st, four months after the accident, I spoke at Sonja's wedding. Four days later, I climbed Mount Moran in Wyoming with eight of my friends. On October 25th - two days before my twenty-eighth birthday - I returned to Blue John Canyon. Some friends, including Kristi Moore, were with me. We filmed the place where the accident happened.
Then, as the others made their way back to their vehicles, I stayed behind for a few minutes. Just before I left, I looked at the dates of my life on the canyon wall. I was wrong. My life didn't end in the canyon. Thoughts of the people I love had kept me alive. If I wanted to see them again, I had to survive. That's what I told myself. And that's what I did.
My accident changed my life. I know that even if I could travel back in time, I wouldn't change anything. I would still say goodbye to Megan and Kristi and continue alone. I've learned a lot from that choice. I believe we are on Earth to do the things we love, even if that means making a hard choice. Sometimes, that means cutting out something and leaving it in the past. Saying goodbye to things from our past is also a new beginning.
- THE END -
