It'll never happen to me!

Until Scapa Flow June 21st 1995..

A good day - dived the Mark Graf and the K.P, two of the best wrecks I have ever dived, apart from the Louis Sheid (that was my first dive ever in the sea).

I was in my room after the dives, when the room started spinning. 'Wow!' I thought, and quickly sat down on the corner of the bed. Malcolm came in, noticed the strange expression on my face and asked if I was feeling OK. 'Not sure', I replied, so he called Nick, who, having had a bend himself before, tried some tests on me. However, we were still uncertain. I began to get numbness in my left arm and tingling in my right. At this point I was trying to calm myself down... you do something called 'shitting bricks' (unstoppable shaking). During this I was told to drink lots of water (thanks Donald for shoving it down my throat). I have never drunk so much at once. The water, if you don't know, is so that once in recompression, you hopefully don't have to go on a drip to prevent dehydration.

After a while, Nick and I walked down to the dive boat for the 0xygen ... on this I felt far worse. The symptoms became more apparent and I got lots of others as well whilst lying down with my legs up. About 10 minutes later an ambulance turned up. I got in and was taken not even 2 minutes drive down the road to a hospital. Could have bloody walked there - would have been quicker. Thanks for offering to come along John.

In hospital I went through everything again ... bursting for the loo (wonder why!). I got back into the ambulance and was taken to the airport and onto a plane! I'd never been in one before so now I would find out if I'd get air sick. Well it couldn't get much worse than it was already and what's one more thing! Looking out of the window at about 500-1000 feet - I've now seen Scapa Flow from all angles, 40 metres under...on top ... and from above. It's a very beautiful sight from above (though I wouldn't recommend getting bent to find out, even if it is free!).

A fifty minute flight to Aberdeen then another ambulance ride to the Hyperbaric Unit. Once in, I was again asked several questions and put into an average sized chamber. All well and good - then they said, can you put this on please ... a very strange thing like a plastic beer hat in a drinking competition, but in this instance it gets filled with pure oxygen. This went on for hours, 6 to be exact, and during this time I had about ten minutes break off the 0xygen, when I had a drink and did different exercises to check on my condition during recompression. Once they felt I was better they brought me back up to normal pressure. The time was about 3 or 4 am. and I was very tired.

My parents called during my time in the chamber, so once back at the hospital, I phoned them and they headed up to Aberdeen. A long, long, long, way for them, I thought (no sleep and then a 12 hour drive !). Finally, I went to bed, thinking that it was all over, but at nine I was woken up when the symptoms began to return. Shit!, back on to 0xygen (the doctors very worried), and back to the recompression chamber for another 4 hours. Would you believe that the two girls that went in on different occasions with me, were both from Exeter, studying for a degree. It's a small world! After all the tests, they confirmed that I had suffered a type 2 bend and was ultra-sensitive to nitrogen. It had affected my central nervous system and I had been very lucky not to have permanent nerve damage. If I wanted to dive again, I was advised not to go deeper than 6 metres!

After it was all over, I had a few tests, for future reference. Well fair's fair. They had helped me, so I helped them. All finished by Monday and homeward bound with two pit stops to visit my gran and then my aunt. I arrived home on the Wednesday ready for club night - what a week!

I will never regret having learned to dive. Never have - never will.

Gavin H.