A beginners guide to getting bent…
Ok, so I didn’t actually mean to get bent. But shit happens (mostly to me as it happens) and as a great mind once said “the only way to never get bent is to never go in the water”.
The first thing I noticed was the rash over my chest, red blotches, itching and screaming at me “I’m bubbles for gods sake woman, get yourself to a chamber!”. But me being me said “oh shut up” and carried on. An hour later, a mere trace was left, and I convinced myself I was ok. However, the guy from the chamber who was doing the survey work wasn’t so easily convinced and as I stepped up into his 4×4 on the cold windy quayside, a hurried explanation garbled to my friends, it dawned on me that I was taking the first steps on a road I had feared ever since my friend had said “So do you want to come scuba diving then?”.
What is a bend?
The bends is bubbles where there ain’t supposed to be bubbles, simply put. Be it in the skin, the tissues, the blood or the nerves, they don’t belong there and cause symptoms when they do arrive.
I’m not bent!
Ok, so the biggest thing you need to do is acknowledge there is something not right. I don’t know what that will be in you, maybe tingling, headache, visual disturbance, a rash like mine, unsteadiness on your feet, tiredness or the classic joint pain. Basically anything, anything at all, which isn’t normal.
You are not a diving doctor (well, most of you anyway) and you are not qualified to say “Oh fer fecks sake sharrap” and know you are right.
Denial is a biggie. A real biggie. Its one thing, hand on heart, I am good at. :D But if you convince yourself you are not bent because an ache in a joint is only an ache, what about the bubble in your brain which is silently starving a portion of it of oxygen? Bummer isn’t it?
So, what next?
Well, get on O2 is the next thing. Alert your buddy you are not right, tell the crew, the skipper, the cox, the coastguard, your mum, anyone except the cat (who will only ask to be fed before you drive yourself to A&E anyway).
Other than recompression, oxygen and rehydration are the only effective first aid for a bend, rubbing deep heat on it and taking an ibuprofen etc isn’t much good really, in all honesty.
Drink until you are peeing like Shergar. Dehydration is a bugger, and makes hubbly bubbly bits worse, so drink and drink some more! If you can, lie down, it makes sense. You have bubbles floating around inside you, the last place you want them to go is your brain which will be the highest bit if you sit up! So even if you feel like an eejit, lie down. You only get one brain, and we kill enough of that off reading about diving on the internet anyway without bubbles helping too.
Getting to a chamber.
Well, there are several ways of doing this, all of them depend on where you are and how bad you are.
Helicopters can lift you and take you to a chamber. Regardless of how they look on TV, I am assured they are smelly, noisy, rattley and you always find yourself pondering how the hell they stay airborne without vibrating themselves to bits. If you do get winched, don’t be afraid. Yes it will be noisy etc, but since when did noise kill you? Girls, think of the men in uniform. Blokes, think about how cool it will sound in the pub afterwards.
On land, either an ambulance or a friend will need to get you to a hospital as soon as possible. If you have already alerted the coastguard, do what they say. If not, go to the nearest A&E and argue till you are blue in the face you need to be seen before Auntie Ethel with her ingrown toenail. The best thing you can do is make them phone the on duty diving doctor. At least then you will be taken seriously.
Once at the pot.
You will examined, all over, everywhere. All neurological functions will be checked, some really dodgy tests involving touching your nose, walking with your arms out etc. Relax, they know what they are doing by now.
Go for a pee, pee for Britain if you can. 5 hours plus is a long time. Grab a book if you can too, a magazine, a logbook, anything. It is mind numbingly boring in there.
In the pot itself.
The door swings shut and the commands are relayed through the comms system. You will hear it hiss and your ears pop, you will need to equalise for a long time, much longer than you think. It takes a while to get to depth in one of these things.
It will be warm and sweaty; you will notice your voice change too. Once at depth, you will either have to wear a mask, or a hood. And so it begins. A period is spent on 100% O2 and then an air break. This is repeated over and over, the O2 time and air breaks changing length as to the commands relayed in.
Always tell them if you feel ill.
On the ascent it will get cold and your ears will creak and pop. But this is normal.
Afterwards.
They will usually keep you in for a short period, to make sure you are ok. Always say if you are not right. I made this mistake, and it hurts.
You will be out of the water for a time, maybe 6 weeks, maybe longer.
Residuals.
These are a bugger. In reality they shouldn’t be there, but im not going back to Hull to sort them out.
But be aware, they can probably be sorted out, which is why they keep you in for a period after the treatment. So if you are not right, say so. How would you feel about being like that forever for the sake of another few hours in a metal cylinder reading a magazine?
I hope this helps some of you at some point. If in doubt. Shout.
