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Medium Dawn Felagund of the Fountain

Ai, What a Weekend

The (Cyber) Bag of Weasels

bread and puppet




"About as much fun as a bag of weasels"...when I first saw this Irish adage, it made me think of the life of a writer: sometimes perilous, sometimes painful, certainly interesting. My paper journal has always been called "The Bag of Weasels." This is the Bag of Weasels' online home.

Ai, What a Weekend

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disgruntled
This was a busy, hectic weekend, and not always in the most pleasant of ways.

Friday, we met the inlaws for supper at Rocky Run and then saw Flyboys. Anyone who read the reviews that I posted yesterday knows how that turned out. I wish I could have that two-and-a-half hours of my life back.

Saturday, we had plans to go to the Maryland Renaissance Festival with our friends Cindy and Andy. A more detailed post with pictures will follow. I love the Ren Fest, but since we go a couple times each year, this one was approached as "Oh, we'll do what you want to do since we'll be back!" with the result that we got to do very little of what we wanted to do. Meh.

Sunday was dive training. It was not the best experience.

Last week was our first session underwater, and I discovered that--like it or not--my status as a human makes scuba-diving challenging. Our bodies are not built for prolonged stays underwater; as I told Bobby, if we were meant to stay for long periods underwater at depth, we would not get the bends. As such, our psychology is not built for long stays underwater at depth either. Likely, the people who tried to stay under for very long times at very deep depths were not the ones whose genes survived to propagate the species. (Although free divers can hold their breaths for upwards of seven minutes and dive deeper than 100 ft/33 m on a single breath!) Those who were afraid of or conservative in the water, on the other hand, stood a better chance.

I have come to terms that diving is not so much about physical ability as about the mental and emotional ability to overcome my natural inclinations.

Training this week started with a classroom review on Chapter Four, which includes the dive tables, and the Chapter Four test. (Another hundred for Bobby and me both! w00t!) The dive tables are used to calculate how much nitrogen the body absorbs (which varies based on time underwater and depth) and to plan safe dives. If a diver surfaces with too much nitrogen in the body, it forms bubbles in the tissue: that's decompression sickness or the bends. The bends can be deadly and are painful and require time spend in a recompression chamber. Yuck.

So dive tables are heavily emphasized, as one would expect. I find them easy, though I can see how some might find it a bit challenging. Charts filled with tiny numbers and multiple variables have that effect!

After the classroom lesson, it was off to the pool. To begin with, I was just having an off-day. I know that feeling well by now; there were certain days when, skating, I simply could not muster myself physically or psychologically to meet my challenges. We opened the lesson by practicing the giant stride entry into the water, which I did well except that I looked down instead of at the far wall. But when you're trying to remember a dozen details, missing one doesn't seem so bad, and I won't miss it again.

We did a test of our buoyancy in the water, and Bill took two pounds of weight off of me. Next, we descended to the bottom of the deep end: 13 ft/4 m and knelt in our usual semi-circle around Bill. I noticed right away that I had trouble keeping on the bottom as compared to last week, particularly on my left side. My left knee kept floating off of the bottom of the pool, and I would wrangle it back down, not easy to do in a neoprene wetsuit (which has a natural tendency to float).

We started with an exercise on how to breathe off of a free-flowing regulator. Regulators are built so that in the unlikely chance that they fail, they free-flow and deliver too much air rather than none at all. As such, we have to learn how to breathe from a regulator that is emptying itself at a frightening clip. The regulator stays out of the mouth, and you "sip" the rushing air. I was sure that it would be hard or scary...and still thinking this when I realized that I was doing it and it wasn't bad at all. Good deal.

Last time, my chief challenge was removing my mask and breathing with my nose uncovered. As a swimmer, I rarely swam with a naked nose, and when I did, I paced myself to exhale through my nose whenever underwater. After removing the mask, the first thing that happened was that water shot up my nose, which is not a comfortable feeling, especially when weighted to the bottom of the pool with a good amount of water overhead.

One of the first activities we did on Sunday: remove the mask and breathe without it.

As soon as I took off the mask, water shot up my nose and rolled down my throat. I tried taking a breath of my regulator; that was fine. I exhaled through my nose, and that was fine too. I took a second breath and more water went up my nose and down my throat.

The hell with that. I held my breath and put my mask back on. You are never, never, never supposed to hold your breath while scuba-diving. Air condenses at depth and expands as you rise to the surface, and a full lungful of air at, say, 60 ft/20 m will cause your lungs to burst if held until the surface. So even while practicing in the shallows, you never, never, never hold your breath while using scuba.

I held my breath. Bad 'gund! Though for only a few seconds, I was disappointed in myself because I 1) knew better and 2) simply couldn't handle the exercise.

Next was CESA: controlled emergency swimming ascent. CESA is used if you run out of air at depth and your buddy is not near enough to share air. (Another no-no, but we practice these contingencies anyway.) The idea behind CESA is to surface while swimming like crazy while constantly exhaling to avoid lung expansion injuries. In a pool, of course, it is rather silly to do a CESA straight up, so we did it diagonally while Bill swam alongside with his hand on the regulator to make sure that we kept exhaling. I barrelled for that surface and completed the exercise on the first try, but Bill stopped me at the top and asked what was wrong. "You're nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof," he said. "I can see you shaking down there."

I told him how I've really been struggling with the mask removal exercises, how I get water in my nose and throat and feel like I'm drowning. He told me that it's okay to hold my nose when I first take off the mask...but I have to let it go before the end of the exercise. He told me that I was doing fine and not to worry.

I floated in the "shallow" end of the pool with the others who had done the CESA on the first try. Everyone is struggling with the mask removal exercises, but Bobby went on a new diver forum and found that this is a common problem. While waiting for the others to finish with the CESA, one of my classmates told me that I look really natural underwater doing the exercises. I laughed, "If only I felt that way!"

"It looks so easy for you," he told me.

Well, I was to prove him wrong in just a few short minutes.

But first, we had to do surface exercises, "tired diver tows" and fin pushes. That was nice, lying on my back while Bobby dragged me across the pool. It was not-so-nice when I had to drag him--70 lb/32 kg heavier than me--back across the pool. But I did all three without a problem.

Then it was back down, back into the semi-circle. I noticed that I was really having trouble staying on the bottom now, and that damned left knee kept wanting to float. Bill knelt in the middle of us and demonstrated the next exercise: swimming without the mask.

I watched him do it, and I will be honest that my thought was "Oh, fuck no, I am not doing that!"

I couldn't even take off the mask without half-drowning myself much less leave it on the floor and swim. I honestly felt my sympathetic nervous system kick in when I saw him do that. My heartrate went up, my entire body tensed, and I was sucking on air.

Bobby was the first to try it. Like me, he's really been struggling with this particular exercise. And I watched him take off his mask and take a lungful of water. That didn't help matters any, to watch my husband struggle in 13 ft of water, looking like he was drowning. Protective-wife mode kicked in. I wanted to swim over to him, wrench his mask back on his face, and cuddle him all the way to the surface.

As it was, Bill took good care of him (without cuddling, thankfully), and he managed a short swim. But it didn't help me, having witnessed that, and when Bill came for me next and signalled, asking if I could do it, I could only shrug. But I had to try. I could have just as easily shaken my head and tried again next week.

I got the mask off and held my nose, and try as Bill might to get me to let go, I would not. I started to have an anxiety reaction; not an all-out panic because I kept at the bottom of the pool, even if clutching my nose with my eyes squeezed shut while vigorously shaking my head. I started to hyperventilate a bit. It was an interesting experience: having gotten my degree in biopsychology, I could name the parts of the brain that were reacting and list the chemicals that were causing me to behave as I was, but it doesn't take away the panic. However, it does allow me to understand it, to know what psychological factors triggered it so that I can work not to let it happen again.

I got my mask on without doing the swim. I was so frantic that the top part was curled under and causing it to flood. I calmed myself enough to fix that, but then I had trouble clearing. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong, but then Bill repositioned my hands, and I was okay.

For now, all memories of that had to be put behind me because we were working again on fin-tip pivots and neutral buoyancy hovering. The problem arose that suddenly--even after I had emptied all of the air from my BCD--I could not stay on the bottom of the pool. My left side, in particular, was being wonky. My left fin would not stay pinned to the floor. We had a divemaster Dan, and he observed me for these exercises, and I couldn't do them simply because I couldn't sink. Well, I did the hover just fine because it was my natural state at the moment!

Next, we practiced our ascent and Bill gave us free time to swim around. While dragging me across the pool earlier, Bobby's regulator had free-flowed, and he was down to 200 psi (mind you, we start at 3000 psi!), so I hung with him in the shallow end till Dan surfaced and asked what was wrong. Bobby explained that he was low on air and Bill had sent him to the surface. I said, "He's my buddy. So I'm here." Dan offered to be Bobby's buddy so that I could have some fun. I needed some fun. However, when I went to let air out of my BCD, it deflated but...nothing. I floated. I turned to Dan and said, "I can't sink." (It's amazing how intelligent one becomes when scuba-diving for the first time!) Dan hooked a two-pound weight onto the back of my tank, and that did the trick. I swam idly around without any buoyancy problems at all.

So it seems that the two-pound weight that Bill yanked from me will be going back on me this week.

After we went back to the classroom and finished our paperwork, Bobby and I had a chat with Bill. We asked if it would be advisable to practice no-mask swimming with our snorkels in the pool, and Bill thought that was a great idea, so that's what we planned to do.

Meanwhile, I was very down on myself.

I had freaked. It was that simple. There was something that--for whatever reason, physical or mental--I simply could not do. And I am not used to not being able to do things. I've always been versatile physically and mentally, and while I do tend to be highstrung at times, I am also proud to be able to manage my emotions. Not that day.

We planned to go to the pool the very next day, on Monday. I told Bobby that the twenty-four hours in between the ending of the disastrous class and arriving at the pool were mine to berate myself and just generally angst. After that, I would direct my energies in a positive direction and overcome it.

Actually, I started much sooner. Although I was tired, I could not sleep that night because I couldn't stop thinking about diving. Or--specifically--the no-mask swim. Lying in bed that night, I rehearsed my breathing. Obviously, I can only inhale through my mouth, else I get (as I had been) a throat full of water. I had been exhaling exclusively through my nose to clear the little bit of water that had a tendency to creep up there, then inhaling through my mouth. I paid attention to my breathing and realized that--after exhaling exclusively through my nose--a bit of negative pressure was created in my nose that (guess what?) caused it to fill with water. I switched tactics. I inhaled through my mouth, exhaled through my nose, and then at the very end, exhaled a bit through my mouth too. The feeling of negative pressure in my nose was greatly diminished.

I even woke up from a dream that night about--what else?--no-mask swimming. I was in no mood to deal with humanity the next day. An exaggeration, you might think? But I want this so much. I want to be scuba-certified for a variety of personal and professional reasons. And, as my classmate told me at the surface, I am good at scuba. It feels fairly natural for me. I love being in the water.

But there's this: This single thing that is hanging me up, that--if I don't do it--will cause me to not be certified. That is unacceptable. I simply do not know how to fail at something that I want this badly.

But the idea of breathing water and feeling like I'm drowing...that's daunting. I may have been able to hold my breath for the mask removal, but I could never hold it so long for the swimming, and the fact remains that I'm not supposed to be holding my breath at all.

I thought all day about getting in the pool on Monday. Monday, as soon as I got home, we left.

I got in the pool, took two breaths and had to come up because of all the water in my nose and throat. Three times, this happened. Bobby was chugging across the pool, happy as a lark, without his mask and breathing with his snorkel. But I could not. Why??

I honestly started to think then: What if I can't do this? Could I get by without a scuba certification?

But no, I decided, I would not give in so easily. I decided to simplify things: to breathe exclusively through my mouth and forget the nose, just to see what happens, to be able to break down better whether it was my positioning or if I was actually honking water up my nose.

There is a rule that I was taught in genetics but applies in lots of other things too: KISS. Keep It Simple, Stupid. As I started across the pool, breathing only through my mouth, I realized: I was doing it! I was not feeling as though I was dying, and even though little drops of water were getting in my nose, it was nothing too terrible. Halfway across the pool, I stood up and was so proud of myself.

I went back and tried it again. This time, I let out a little bubble of air when I needed to get the water out of my nose but did most of my exhaling through the snorkel. Again, I did it, several times across the pool without a problem.

Friday, we will go back and Bobby will hold me under the water so that I can remove my mask and then swim across the pool without it. But for now, I am feeling very confident. The swim is not pleasant--when I surface at the end of it and exhale through my nose, it's like someone turned on the faucet for all the water holding in my nose and sinuses--but I found myself able to relax, take it slow, and concentrate on my breathing. And that is my strategy for Saturday: Relax. Think. Take it slow. Don't rush to get it done. Concentrate on staying relaxed and on breathing. With each exhale, I was doing a quick muscle relaxation exercise that was really helping a lot. I will try to do that do while on the scuba.

I told Bobby that I actually felt like weight had lifted off of me. I am meeting my challenge and I believe that I can--and will--do it.

Sunday will tell, of course, but I believe that I will go into it relaxed and with a positive attitude, and that will make a tremendous difference. We'll see, but I'm confident. :)

Sunday afternoon, Potter came over, we went to La Fiesta for supper, and saw Jackass Number Two. Which I am not going to review because I have nothing to say about it, just that I needed to watch people beat themselves up after this weekend.

Oh, what a weekend.
  • As it was, Bill took good care of him (without cuddling, thankfully)

    Hmm, that's good. Things might have been really awkward otherwise.
    "You know that's my husband you're cuddling right?"
    "Huh, what? Oh...Yeah."

    And I am not used to not being able to do things.

    Dawn, were you one of those people in school that got good grades and could do everything?

    Hey, freaking is normal. I've freaked, plain and simple. And I'll admit, I've fallen from a horse three times. Three times it was a stupid mistake on my part. I got funny looks from some people at work this summer, but it's true. I'd guess that most of the time, a fall is the rider's fault, not the horse's. Sure, the horse might've refused a jump, but the rider should've been prepared for it. Anyways, you shouldn't worry about what sounds to be a problem for everyone learning to dive!

    Sunday will tell, of course, but I believe that I will go into it relaxed and with a positive attitude, and that will make a tremendous difference.

    I'm glad you know to do so! At first, I felt like I was watching this five year old handle her sister's dog, and getting frustrated and frightened, which made the dog stress, which made things worse...Except you were both. But yes, relaxing and being confident is good!

    And you know, I'll lend you *my* underwater dreams about Melkor/Voldemort/Bush/whatever evil entity flooding the world. I think the presence of Arafinwe and Ingwe will help. ;)
    • Dawn, were you one of those people in school that got good grades and could do everything?

      *shifts around nervously*

      *whistles innocently*

      Well, I was terrible in PE class except for gymnastics.

      Honestly, I had my challenges in school. I'm just not used to looking at something with the feeling that I absolutely can't do it. And for a long scary while, I honestly believed that I could not swim underwater with my nose undercovered while breathing.

      Hey, freaking is normal.

      Yes it is! Especially in an environment where humans are not designed to go. I've done it, I've survived it, and I need never do it again. ;)

      I think the presence of Arafinwe and Ingwe will help. ;)

      Hee! Why's that? Because it's easy to drown a blond by putting a scratch-n-sniff sticker on the bottom of the pool??

      *looks around carefully for Finrod*

      Good, he didn't hear that. ;)
      • Well, I was terrible in PE class except for gymnastics.

        Well, at least you were bad at something! ;P

        No seriously, I knew a girl who was good at every sport, at music, at academics...she even had perfect teeth without braces! I am a tiny bit mollified that she chose band over sports though...

        I'm just not used to looking at something with the feeling that I absolutely can't do it.

        I'm trying to think of something, but I'm only coming up with pre-calculus. How is it that pre-calculus is so much more difficult than calculus itself? So I guess I'm in the same boat. *thinks*

        Hee! Why's that? Because it's easy to drown a blond by putting a scratch-n-sniff sticker on the bottom of the pool??

        *snerk* I love that joke. Besides, then we'd have three dead blondes, and then what? No, they were trying to figure out how to get rid of all the water! All in all, very odd.

        Good, he didn't hear that. ;)

        *Mildly* Darn, I was hoping he'd try it. *fingers sticker*
        • How is it that pre-calculus is so much more difficult than calculus itself?

          Pre-calc is like a catch-all of everything that they want you to know before calc but doesn't fit in anywhere else. My high school pre-calc was trig, analytic geometry, and college algebra. Also, it's a lot more memorization, especially the trig.

          *Mildly* Darn, I was hoping he'd try it. *fingers sticker*

          Finrod: *pouts* I heard that. You're deserving of a spanking.

          Dawn: Whoa.... o.O
          • My pre-calc was HELL. That's all I really remember.

            Finrod: *pouts* I heard that. You're deserving of a spanking.

            Oh really...*eyebrow arch* I think I have something you'd enjoy more...

            ...
            ...
            ...

            A scratch-n-sniff sticker! ^_^
  • I laughed, "If only I felt that way!"

    "It looks so easy for you," he told me.


    Looking like is indeed different from feeling it. I am sitting here, just marvelling at something you are learning right now, knowing myself I most likely will never learn it. It's just wow. I guess this feeling can be filed under what I hear around me when people stare at me and say: wow you can write a story (or article)? How do you do that? It reads so good and it feels so natural! You're inclined to say: oh I completely suck at grammar, spelling and I cannot write a good narrative if I could save my life with it. But instead of that I just take in the compliment and smile.

    This is what you should keep in mind too. It takes time, practice and patience to learn something. Some things come natural and immediately, for others you have to work hard for it. Don't forget that when you are not feeling so great and your body let's you know that, that has a huge impact too. Bill isn't fooled by outward appearances, he keeps an eye on your bodylanguage too. It all adds to it. But please, give yourself the time to learn it, especially if you really really want to. Small steps and you'll see, as in the pool with the snorkle, it will come.

    I have several things in my life on which people so often excelled at, for example maths and often people shook their head and said I should get a job, quit school when I turned 16, but every person have their own learning cycle. Some have a slow start, but pick up the pace later in life (like me). Some learn good very young, but as they age they don't. You have your own unique style of adapting new things and learning things... so even when you go back Friday and you freak out again: it will come. {{{hugs}}}
    • {{{{{hugs back}}}}}

      I am going to keep working at it until I get it. The good thing is that I have to do this one time and never again. (Well, unless I pursue further accreditation as a divemaster or instructor; then I'll have to do it all the time!) It's not part of our open-water dives. So I get through it and *whew* all over.

      The thing with scuba is that it feels so weird and cumbersome...but I believe that it is something that I will just be doing one day and think, "Wow, this is so easy!" I remember when I started at The Piece working on the ice cream fountain, I struggled so hard with everything, and my mom--who was a server trainer there at the time--said, "One day, Dawn, you will look up and realize you're doing you're job. And it's not hard at all!" And one day, that was exactly what happened, and six months later, I was a certified trainer and teaching others. So it will happen. :)

      And Bobby and are both committed to de-stressing this weekend because--after reading this entry today--he came home and said that he'd felt the same way and that, also, he'd been apprehensive all week about some of the exercises. We are toughening ourselves mentally and also taking care of ourselves because this is hard...but we will learn it. :)

      Thanks for all the support and kind words. It really means a lot. :)
  • *hugs*

    Well, that was certainly an exciting weekend for you.

    I'm sorry to hear that you've been having such a difficult time, and that it was so scary (even if you could name the brain activities backwards, I bet you were a little shaken!). But I think you're handling this perfectly. You know what went wrong and you are working on it. You're going to learn how to deal with that part of the diving routine. You can't expect to be perfect from the start, now, can you? That's what this course and certification is all about, after all, isn't it?

    • I'm lucky too because everything else has come naturally. Bobby and I were both fish in past lives, I think! This...I do it once and never have to do it again. (Unless I go for divemaster or instructor, but let's get the open-water first! :^D)

      Meanwhile, I'm learning more from overcoming the challenge than I would if I breezed through everything. And learning how to relax and handle scary situations is important in scuba.

      Thanks for the support, Juno! *big hugs*
  • Ya know, the more I read about your diving lessons, the more scary it sounds. I love water very, very much and I'd go swimming anytime and almost anyplace. But diving sounds really creepy, probably because I'm claustrophobic and the idea of not being able to breathe (except the bubbles coming out of a regulator) with all that water on top of me is definitely enough to creep me out. You are a brave woman to do this and to be so determined to pursue a career that involves such dives into the open ocean. *bows*
    • It does feel terribly unnatural at first. I am like you: I love the water and have been swimming and comfortable all of my life. (I almost drowned once when I was three years old too, so as my dive instructor says, got that T-shirt too! :^D) But people are not meant to do this...so it takes some mental toughening!

      My dive teacher is actually claustrophobic too. He says that this means that he is not very interested in cavern diving. :^P (I--on the other hand--being a Lord of Caves, think that would be really cool.)

      Luckily, for most of the diving that Bobby and I will do, we will be on reefs and so not very deep. When you're shallow, you always have the option of bailing for the surface! I am not really attracted to really deep diving for a variety of reasons.
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