Carla Person – Shamanic Healer

For those of you who are not familiar with diving physiology, one of the risks involved is decompression sickness (DCS), known in slang as “the bends” because in repeated cases a person gets crippled and bent over. It is caused from nitrogen bubbles forming in the tissues as a person ascends from the deep. These bubbles block the oxygen supply to tissues, and in type 2 cases, which I had, the bubbles form in the spine and can cause neurological damage, and in my case the bubbles caused damage of some kind in the brain itself, not unlike a severe blow to the head.

DCS is funny because while it strikes only 1% of divers, if a person is susceptible it can nail them even when they are extremely careful to follow all the rules. There are clear protocols divers follow to prevent DCS. I followed them. There are other more vague safety measures divers take as well. I did not follow one of them. Seems that I am suseptible, and I made a mistake. I dove 7 days in a row. I didn’t dive deep, nor did I dive excessively on those days. The (young) people next door who all work in the dive shops here were astounded that I would “get bent” on my diving profile. But really it is not surprising as I look back on it. I was ignoring subtle signs like excessive tiredness, and I wasn’t bothering to count the number of consecutive days I dove. I was just plain having too much fun! Now that fun is over, rover.

Friday night, Feb 8th. The first symptoms were a strong pain in my shoulder and arm, with tingling in my hand. I called the Dive Doctor hotline in the US and they sent me to the Bonaire hospital. The doctor there was immediately concerned, and at 11:00 PM I entered the hyperbaric chamber. This machine is a steel cylinder 7 feet long with an internal diameter of around 4.5 feet. It is very old and trustworthy, but not very comfortable. A “tender” was in there with me, a nice EMT named Harold from Suriname. I had to wear an oxygen mask for almost all of the 6 hours of treatment. Each breath required effort, and I never really was sure that I was getting enough air. I was, but I had to tell myself that. I fought back panic pretty successfully, and for a lot of the time I just floated out of my body, in emotional shock.

The next day I was wiped out, and the following day too. Then in the afternoon on Sunday I went for a slow walk, and couldn’t make it back without resting from extreme dizzyness. Nausea followed. I have had several good concussions, and I had all the classic symptoms of swelling on the brain. I asked the spirits their advice, and they said “sleep”. So instead of going to the hospital that night I went to bed for 12 hours. I was somewhat better in the morning, but my vision was blurry, my speech was slow and I couldn’t add two numbers together. I went to see the doctor at his office. It turns out that having a late onset of brain trauma symptoms is rare in DCS, so he did not think it was DCS. He tested my blood pressure and blood sugar and sent me home. The next day after another long sleep I was somewhat better, but I knew my brain was in trouble and that I had to figure out a plan. I had enough power in me to use the net and find a great hyperbaric medicine doctor in Phoenix. I spoke with his head nurse, and he told me to get back into the chamber, whatever it took, before I tried to fly home. So Tuesday evening I went back to the hospital and spoke with another EMT. I told him what the US nurse said, (the magic work was Hypoxia), and the Bonaire EMT called my Bonaire doctor. Upon hearing the magic word the doctor immediately ordered me back into the chamber for another 6 hours. Again I entered at 11:00 PM, but this time it was really awful. I panicked for the first 2 hours until I was so exhausted that I couldn’t move. Then for the next 4 hours I had to continually strive to relax. Finally it ended and I went home and collapsed.

It is now Thursday and I am still exhausted. I want to journey to get a shamanic story that explains all of this, but I don’t yet have the energy. The good news is that my brain is clear. I still ache all over, a side effect of many hours in the chamber I suppose. I am, however, improving daily and I AM NOT going back in that machine no matter what.

Will I ever dive again? No. I love it, but there are other things I love just as much that are far less dangerous for me. Mushroom hunting for example is a lot like diving – total immersion into nature to find elusive magical beings. I love getting lost in the dream of nature. The key is to make it a safe dream and to use a GPS.

So that my friends is why this diving/journeying blog went on hold. I have a lot of things to sort through, after I get another few hours of sleep.

Feb 18, 08 – Thank you all for your kind comments! I was fortunate enough to be on the airplane home with a Canadian dive physician, on his way home for a dive medicine convention, who helped me be calm when I went to altitude and gave me some idea of what had happened. The profile I was diving was not really aggressive for a normal person.  DCS can happen to anyone, but it more likely to happen to people with a heart defect called PFO. It is diagnosed with a test, so he couldn’t be sure, but his “Oh yeah, that’s gotta be it” opinion was that I have PFO.  I feel less stupid about my enthusiastic diving profile. He said he himself and many of the dive medical people with them on the trip dove equally or more aggressive profiles. So I feel less foolish, very curious, and simply exhausted. Today I will find a dive Dr in the valley to follow up with.

Thanks for being there for me friends!