Spotlight
Dr. Jerri Nielsen: Survivor!
Shaping ourselves through life experience
By Liz Sterling

She was looking to changeher life. Sitting at the top of her profession, Dr. Jerri Nielsen knew that midlife meant new beginnings. Working as a family doctor specializing in emergency medicine, she knew she could slide through for another 20 years-but the memory of her childhood dreams-of doing something radical, of traveling to other countries, beckoned her.

Preparing to Leave A difficult and painful divorce and loss of her children in a well publicized media battle, prompted her to explore the possibilities. By chance, she read an ad at the back of a medical magazine advertising a position to spend one year in Antarctica, serving as doctor to the Americans "wintering over" at the South Pole in 1999-2000. She was offered the position and given one month to prepare for one year on the ice. Nielsen told me, "It was a complex process. I had to shut down everything in my life. I was amazed at the clutter surrounding me. We don't realize how much stuff we collect. I was allotted 70 pounds. Imagine trying to figure out how much toothpaste you use in one year. I admit, I packed a little too heavy, but not by much. Fleece. That's what I focused...on all the things to keep me warm."

"In the summer, the temperature averages minus 10-60 below. In the winter, during almost nine months of darkness, the temperature hovers around 80 below. Just before I left, a woman who wintered on the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station at Antarctica advised me to bring some lipstick and a pretty dress. At the last minute, I exchanged a pair of fleece pants for these items. I didn't know why—but I soon found out.

Life on the Ice "Our team comprised 41. We came from all walks of life and came for many different reasons. I had simple goals. I wanted to test myself and learn new things. Life is a process," Nielsen continued, "a process of learning and embarking on different passages. When you're done, you have humility. We know the ego develops and our careers develop but true growth comes from serving others and developing spiritually. I even believe," she paused and refined her focus, "the bad experiences give way to new opportunities." It was clear to me, in our phone conversation, that she had developed the humility she spoke of. It's not something you learn, it's something you become. Life impresses itself on us and it's up to us to shape ourselves though our life experiences. This is exactly what Jerri Nielsen did. She explained the unfolding of events that brought her national recognition and admiration. "Winter is eight to nine months long. Winter is perpetual night. Imagine Liz, one day and one night. That's what life is like on the ice. We have day for six months with three weeks of sunset. The whole world is ablaze with magnificent color. Slowly we watched as the sun dipped below the horizon and then night falls. It's the darkest of dark and, it's in the darkness that you hear your own soul. It's the place where I came to know myself."

What I considered my weaknesses, I found out are also my strengths. The demons, those things I felt insecure about, I realized I had become bigger than them...a long time ago. I found out we hold onto our injuries-our psyche stores them. You know," she continued, "the pain from our troubling teen years and the uncertainty from our twenties. We let these experiences define who we are and then spend an entire career compensating—trying to prove we're better than our bruised images of ourselves. We long to be better than our perception of ourselves. But that's the point. It's only our view. Not our truth. In the darkness of the winter on the South Pole, I realized we are just playing a mind game. The parts of ourselves we don't like-they have the capacity to become our strength, and in my case, it helped to keep me alive. We know how to survive. We just don't know we can...until we have to."

A Story of Survival: Nielsen's story, is a story of survival. In February 2000, her team experienced a disappointment. A shipment of supplies, with birth control pills, cigarettes and a few other incidentals was unable to be dropped. It became blatantly obvious that they were alone. Nine months of darkness and cold. No one in or out. "Icebound. The plane couldn't get to us...no one could get to us. We were on our own."

Then, in March, I discovered a lump on my breast. At first, I pretended it wasn't there but there was no way I could deny it. I decided to keep it a secret. I was the doctor, the only one with any medical experience and if I told them, they would become frightened. I quietly began to prepare my medical compound. I labeled things, cleaned, organized and marked everything so I could train someone to take over for me. I thought I would never get off the ice. Within three months I realized this was spreading fast. I was experiencing shortness of breath, my lymph nodes were enlarged and time was running out. I told my team. People are great problem solvers. I was surprised by their response. They weren't worried for themselves, they wanted to find a solution. I trained the welder to perform a biopsy. We thawed chickens and potatoes and used that for practice. Lisa Beale used every free minute of her time for an entire month to restore and old microscope, a Polaroid camera and a computer to send the biopsy findings through the Internet for evaluation.

It was determined that I had a fast growing aggressive cancer and would require chemotherapy. Removing the mass was not an option because I didn't know where the margins were and I could do more damage. My only hope was self-administered chemotherapy, if it could get to me.

The American Air Force air-dropped a parachute in the middle of our winter night. I will never forget that moment. Suddenly, out of the darkness of the sky, was the American Flag, the American dream and the realization that as I stood in admiration of the efforts made to rescue me, tens of thousands have experienced moments like this.

That plane stood for my country and for the human spirit. We will go to great lengths to save another soul." She celebrated that night by putting on some lipstick and wearing her dress.

On October 16, 2000, Jerri Nielsen was airlifted from the South Pole to Christchurch, New Zealand. After an overnight stay, she was flown to Indianapolis to undergo thorough testing, and a lumpectomy. On the third day after the lumpectomy, a Staph infection set in and required a mastectomy.

After recovery and reconstruction, Nielsen concludes, "I look back now and realize this was not only profound, but even a positive experience because of what it did, because of how it changed me in the process. I was introduced to the notion of giving more than you have and using less than you need. I also realize now that we are the sum total of our own thoughts. This gives us different personalities with texture and individuality. But underneath it all, in the silence of the night, I saw truth and glimpsed the interconnected threads that bond us all together."

© 2002 Balance Magazine