Yesterday's first dive was on an old wreck in 70 feet of water. Visibility was excellent for this site at about 50 - 80 feet, the water was a comfy 75 on the bottom and seas were running about 2 feet, a very benign state for the big boat we were using. It was a beautiful dive with lots of fish and other critters for our entertainment.
I was at my safety stop with three others when one of the deckhands hit the water, frantically signaling us to surface immediately! I signaled him that there was one more diver taking pictures still on the site, and he went after her.
Tropical Storm Alberto was still well south, but perhaps the weatherguessers had been too optimistic. "Winds must be picking up sooner than forecast," I thought, even though looking up at the boat it didn't seem the seas had picked up at all. Surfacing along side, I asked the Captain "what's up?" and he said "I've got one on oxygen up here and it doesn't look good!"
"Which one?" I asked, expecting to hear "the old man" - our septuagenarian who'd had trouble getting down and aborted his dive at 15'. I was shocked to hear "middle aged guy, the blond."
Expecting to find our diver (lets call him Joe) having some relatively mild symptoms but on precautionary oxygen I was again shocked to get on board and find Joe completely out, on oxygen with his dive buddy (fortunately an MD) and a Fire-Medic already in attendance. As I shucked my gear and got to the scene I was told "he collapsed on the ladder; he's going fast!"
Holy great Zot! With Kimber's mishap fresh on my mind I thought "this is ridiculous... there's just no reason for this..."
The Fire Medic - Keep breathing Joe then to me pulse is thready back to him Come on, Joe, BREATHE! then to me were losing this guy, damn! as Joe quit breathing and went cyanotic. You still got a pulse? I asked, then to Joe, Come on Joe, BREATHE for me! Just a little, she said, as the Doc started rescue breathing... one breath, two...
Coming back she said, I think hes trying to breathe on his own again said the Doc, and I got the O2 mask back in place with a good seal. BREATHE, Joe, DEEP, SLOW! as he took a couple of a-little-too-quick breaths, then tried to swallow his tongue. The Doc and the Fire Medic pried his mouth open while I swept his tongue back out while commanding him to BREATHE, Joe and he did thank God!
Mask back in place, Joe was now breathing on his own and seemed to be responding to my commands to Breathe deep, Joe, breathe slow and deep that I was sort of rhythmically chanting. While my DiveCon changed oxygen bottles, the Doc & Fire Medic kept monitoring vitals and both reported I think he may make it now. Damn, that was close.
Meanwhile the crew was getting the last diver aboard, getting unhooked from the wreck and racing for the nearest dock, where theyd already made arrangements for an ambulance to meet us. One of my other divers, a Cop, had already secured Joes equipment and started the chain of custody on it.
With Joe a bit more stable, I started getting the story. He and the Doc had had a very relaxed, enjoyable dive, and had started their normal ascent after 25 minutes bottom time. They had a perfectly normal ascent in every way, with a three minute safety stop followed by a slow ascent and return to the ladder, where Joe had handed the deckhand one fin, said I feel light headed and suddenly collapsed. The deckhands and Captain said he was limp as a noodle and total dead weight as they hauled him up on deck.
The Fire Medic (just completed her OW checkout dive!) took over on Joe, stripping his gear off and checking vitals while the crew broke out the boats oxygen and sent one deckhand after those of us still in the water. The Doc shucked his gear and began assisting the Medic. Joe was posturing but only on the left side, unable to communicate anything. When I got aboard about three or four minutes later he appeared to be going down fast
With Joe in much more medically competent hands than mine, and EMS all lined up, I started getting names and recording basic information for the inevitable paperwork to follow. After what seemed just a few minutes, the Doc hollered over to me Hey, Rick, hes talking! Hes moving! Oh, thank God! I said, and went back over to see for myself. Joe was coming around nearly as fast as hed declined not thirty minutes earlier!
Now things actually got a little amusing. As Joe was coming back to us he started moving his hands, arms and feet, commenting that I think Ill just keep moving here, you know, just to keep the blood moving and then I know my eyes are closed but I can see ok but Ill just keep them closed for awhile. The Doc asked Why is that, Joe? to which he responded Because Im scared *****less!
By the time we reached the dock, Joe was coherent. Still a little slurred, thirsty, weak, but able to move all his body parts and tell us he had no pain or numbness or any symptoms other than a general great fatigue. He was able to stand and walk with assistance to the gurney for the ambulance ride.
At the hospital we found out hed used a Scopolamine patch and had been dieting, but nothing that should have precipitated the event. He also told me that if he'd lost consciousness completely it must have just been very briefly. From his perspective, he'd handed up the first fin, felt suddenly weak and lightheaded and said so, and then "my arms and legs wouldn't work, and it got hard to breathe. I could hear you all telling me to breathe, and I was trying to just concentrate and do that."
Though now asymptomatic, as a precaution the Diving doc at the hospital prescribed a Navy table 6 ride, which was completed last night; Joe remains asymptomatic this morning, and impatient to get out of the hospital and back to work!
The rapid resolution after such a severe decline has everyone stumped so far. Was it a TIA? Was it an AGE? Some sort of adult onset epilepsy? Or could it have been just a blood-sugar crash with dehydration? There is no doubt that had the event occurred under water or had the crew and his fellow divers not reacted quickly Joe would be a statistic today. I am thankful beyond expression for the happy outcome, and I dont even mind doing the paperwork well need to do
In the meantime, even though the tank he was using was just one of several filled off the same bank, we're having the gas analysed to see if there's anything there. We've already determined that all his gear was working fine, and he had 900 psi remaining.
Rick
I was at my safety stop with three others when one of the deckhands hit the water, frantically signaling us to surface immediately! I signaled him that there was one more diver taking pictures still on the site, and he went after her.
Tropical Storm Alberto was still well south, but perhaps the weatherguessers had been too optimistic. "Winds must be picking up sooner than forecast," I thought, even though looking up at the boat it didn't seem the seas had picked up at all. Surfacing along side, I asked the Captain "what's up?" and he said "I've got one on oxygen up here and it doesn't look good!"
"Which one?" I asked, expecting to hear "the old man" - our septuagenarian who'd had trouble getting down and aborted his dive at 15'. I was shocked to hear "middle aged guy, the blond."
Expecting to find our diver (lets call him Joe) having some relatively mild symptoms but on precautionary oxygen I was again shocked to get on board and find Joe completely out, on oxygen with his dive buddy (fortunately an MD) and a Fire-Medic already in attendance. As I shucked my gear and got to the scene I was told "he collapsed on the ladder; he's going fast!"
Holy great Zot! With Kimber's mishap fresh on my mind I thought "this is ridiculous... there's just no reason for this..."
The Fire Medic - Keep breathing Joe then to me pulse is thready back to him Come on, Joe, BREATHE! then to me were losing this guy, damn! as Joe quit breathing and went cyanotic. You still got a pulse? I asked, then to Joe, Come on Joe, BREATHE for me! Just a little, she said, as the Doc started rescue breathing... one breath, two...
Coming back she said, I think hes trying to breathe on his own again said the Doc, and I got the O2 mask back in place with a good seal. BREATHE, Joe, DEEP, SLOW! as he took a couple of a-little-too-quick breaths, then tried to swallow his tongue. The Doc and the Fire Medic pried his mouth open while I swept his tongue back out while commanding him to BREATHE, Joe and he did thank God!
Mask back in place, Joe was now breathing on his own and seemed to be responding to my commands to Breathe deep, Joe, breathe slow and deep that I was sort of rhythmically chanting. While my DiveCon changed oxygen bottles, the Doc & Fire Medic kept monitoring vitals and both reported I think he may make it now. Damn, that was close.
Meanwhile the crew was getting the last diver aboard, getting unhooked from the wreck and racing for the nearest dock, where theyd already made arrangements for an ambulance to meet us. One of my other divers, a Cop, had already secured Joes equipment and started the chain of custody on it.
With Joe a bit more stable, I started getting the story. He and the Doc had had a very relaxed, enjoyable dive, and had started their normal ascent after 25 minutes bottom time. They had a perfectly normal ascent in every way, with a three minute safety stop followed by a slow ascent and return to the ladder, where Joe had handed the deckhand one fin, said I feel light headed and suddenly collapsed. The deckhands and Captain said he was limp as a noodle and total dead weight as they hauled him up on deck.
The Fire Medic (just completed her OW checkout dive!) took over on Joe, stripping his gear off and checking vitals while the crew broke out the boats oxygen and sent one deckhand after those of us still in the water. The Doc shucked his gear and began assisting the Medic. Joe was posturing but only on the left side, unable to communicate anything. When I got aboard about three or four minutes later he appeared to be going down fast
With Joe in much more medically competent hands than mine, and EMS all lined up, I started getting names and recording basic information for the inevitable paperwork to follow. After what seemed just a few minutes, the Doc hollered over to me Hey, Rick, hes talking! Hes moving! Oh, thank God! I said, and went back over to see for myself. Joe was coming around nearly as fast as hed declined not thirty minutes earlier!
Now things actually got a little amusing. As Joe was coming back to us he started moving his hands, arms and feet, commenting that I think Ill just keep moving here, you know, just to keep the blood moving and then I know my eyes are closed but I can see ok but Ill just keep them closed for awhile. The Doc asked Why is that, Joe? to which he responded Because Im scared *****less!
By the time we reached the dock, Joe was coherent. Still a little slurred, thirsty, weak, but able to move all his body parts and tell us he had no pain or numbness or any symptoms other than a general great fatigue. He was able to stand and walk with assistance to the gurney for the ambulance ride.
At the hospital we found out hed used a Scopolamine patch and had been dieting, but nothing that should have precipitated the event. He also told me that if he'd lost consciousness completely it must have just been very briefly. From his perspective, he'd handed up the first fin, felt suddenly weak and lightheaded and said so, and then "my arms and legs wouldn't work, and it got hard to breathe. I could hear you all telling me to breathe, and I was trying to just concentrate and do that."
Though now asymptomatic, as a precaution the Diving doc at the hospital prescribed a Navy table 6 ride, which was completed last night; Joe remains asymptomatic this morning, and impatient to get out of the hospital and back to work!
The rapid resolution after such a severe decline has everyone stumped so far. Was it a TIA? Was it an AGE? Some sort of adult onset epilepsy? Or could it have been just a blood-sugar crash with dehydration? There is no doubt that had the event occurred under water or had the crew and his fellow divers not reacted quickly Joe would be a statistic today. I am thankful beyond expression for the happy outcome, and I dont even mind doing the paperwork well need to do
In the meantime, even though the tank he was using was just one of several filled off the same bank, we're having the gas analysed to see if there's anything there. We've already determined that all his gear was working fine, and he had 900 psi remaining.
Rick