arkstorm
Contributor
The Dive
On January 8, 2010, my dad, my wife and I were on our second to last dive of a week-long trip to Cozumel, Mexico. Our dive site that morning was ‘Delilah’. We made a giant stride entry above a sandy bottom that was 60 ft. deep. We descended to the sand and made a short swim towards a garden of sea grass which sloped down to 85 ft. We then drifted along the current and upward toward a garden of small coral heads from 40 to 35 ft. deep. Prior to our safety stop, we hung around at 25 ft. for three minutes as we observed a large midnight parrot fish swimming above the coral. When we got below 1000 lbs. of air we ascended to the safety stop followed by a slow ascent to Aqua Safari’s dive boat Ocean One, waiting above.
The dive profile was very typical for a morning first of two tank dive: 14 hour surface interval (after a night dive the previous evening); 85’ max depth; 3 min. safety stop at 15’; total dive time: 54 minutes; FO2: Air; water temperature 78 F.
The DCS Hit
After surfacing, my wife had already climbed out of the water and I waited for my dad to climb aboard the boat. However, half way up the ladder my dad froze. I asked what was wrong. He replied that he couldn’t feel his right leg. I thought he was having a muscle cramp. The deck hand helped take off his gear on the swim platform and helped drag him up the back deck of the boat. I was half way up the ladder when I realized something was very wrong. By the time I took off my gear my dad was on his back. He had complete loss of motor function and sensation in his right leg. I instructed the deck hand to get the emergency O2 tank.
The dive had been so normal that it didn’t even dawn upon me to think that my dad was having a DCS attack. I was more concerned that he may have suffered a stroke. However, not 10 minutes into the event, he began losing vision in both eyes. The delayed symptoms led to the early conclusion that it was some form of DCS.
The dive boat captain had already contacted emergency medical services and was heading full steam to the nearest extraction point, still some 30 minutes away. My wife, the dive masters and I were busy comforting my dad.
With the healing effects of the O2, the loss of vision began to subside within 15 minutes. Also, my dad started to regain sensation in his leg. By the time we got to the dock, 35 minutes after the initial onset of symptoms, he was able to stand and even change himself out of his wetsuit. He was able to disembark and greet the EMS personnel on his own two feet, but this was only the beginning.
When we arrived at the dock the waiting EMS personnel suggested that my dad be rushed to the nearest hyperbaric chamber but my dad insisted he was fine. It took a few minutes of serious coaxing before he begrudgingly agreed to go. Once at the hyperbaric chamber clinic the doctor recommended immediate recompression therapy and again my dad resisted, but I urged him to play it safe, so he agreed to go in the chamber.
My dad insisted that he was going to fly home the next day and that everything would be fine but this was not to be. After the first five-hour recompression session my dad went back to the hotel. His vision was fine but his legs were clearly not. He could barely stand. It ultimately took 30 hours over 10 sessions in the hyperbaric chamber before he flew home.
After those 10 sessions my dad had regained complete motor control of his legs and 99% of the numbness had subsided. The only remaining symptom is that he cannot fully sense hot and cold on certain parts of his legs. In the grand scheme of all the horrible ways this story could have ended had there not been emergency O2 on the boat or had my dad stubbornly resisted going into the recompression chamber, I consider his recovery more than satisfactory.
What I Learned
Lesson 1: DCS is not an urban legend. Anyone can fall victim to DCS on any dive, no matter how safe the profile and regardless of your level of experience. The subject of DCS is covered at every level of diver training and while, of course, the entire purpose of planning safe dives is to avoid DCS, I never thought about it specifically in planning or conducting a recreational dive. In this modern age of diving computers and high quality training I was lulled into a false sense of security.
Lesson 2: Know the risk factors. While your chances of falling victim to DCS are slim, you must account for risk factors such as age, fitness level, body weight, smoking, dehydration, etc. (this list is not exhaustive). Despite my dad having 1000+ dives under his belt, he is a life-long smoker. Couple that with being 61 years old, slightly overweight, doesn’t exercise regularly and the picture begins to become clear. A basic health screening is necessary to uncover your risk factors.
Lesson 3: Avoid denial. A DCS victim may be in denial, particularly if, as in my dad’s case, the dive went normally. The first thing you may think is that it can’t really be the bends because: you didn’t overstay your dive plan, you came up slowly, you did a safety stop and now all the symptoms are subsiding. Although the effects of breathing O2 may have temporarily neutralized the symptoms, those symptoms can regress without recompression treatment. Do not allow denial to delay treatment. Immediate treatment can eliminate or mitigate what could otherwise be life-long debilitation – even death.
Lesson 4: Get insurance. Make sure your health plan has 100% coverage for emergencies abroad or better yet, sign up for DAN insurance. You don’t even want to know what this would have cost my dad out-of-pocket had he not been covered.
Lesson 5: The quality of the dive operation can be the difference between life and death. This is the most unlikely lesson that I learned but must be emphasized. Pick your dive operation carefully! When in Cozumel we dive with Aqua Safari because of the quality of their dive masters and their general philosophy regarding safety. After the accident, Bill Horn, the proprietor of Aqua Safari, was present at the clinic every time my dad entered or exited the recompression chamber. It was extremely meaningful to have his support through some scary moments. In speaking with Bill I learned some unsettling facts regarding other dive operators on the island, the most significant of which is that not all dive boats have emergency O2 onboard. If not for treating my dad with emergency O2 immediately upon the occurrence of symptoms the outcome of this story could have been dire. Also, when every moment matters, it is crucial to be diving with a company that has emergency procedures in place. When in Cozumel I would never consider diving with anyone other than Aqua Safari but in general I would inquire to make sure that any dive operator I go with has emergency oxygen and procedures in place to thwart tragedy.
On January 8, 2010, my dad, my wife and I were on our second to last dive of a week-long trip to Cozumel, Mexico. Our dive site that morning was ‘Delilah’. We made a giant stride entry above a sandy bottom that was 60 ft. deep. We descended to the sand and made a short swim towards a garden of sea grass which sloped down to 85 ft. We then drifted along the current and upward toward a garden of small coral heads from 40 to 35 ft. deep. Prior to our safety stop, we hung around at 25 ft. for three minutes as we observed a large midnight parrot fish swimming above the coral. When we got below 1000 lbs. of air we ascended to the safety stop followed by a slow ascent to Aqua Safari’s dive boat Ocean One, waiting above.
The dive profile was very typical for a morning first of two tank dive: 14 hour surface interval (after a night dive the previous evening); 85’ max depth; 3 min. safety stop at 15’; total dive time: 54 minutes; FO2: Air; water temperature 78 F.
The DCS Hit
After surfacing, my wife had already climbed out of the water and I waited for my dad to climb aboard the boat. However, half way up the ladder my dad froze. I asked what was wrong. He replied that he couldn’t feel his right leg. I thought he was having a muscle cramp. The deck hand helped take off his gear on the swim platform and helped drag him up the back deck of the boat. I was half way up the ladder when I realized something was very wrong. By the time I took off my gear my dad was on his back. He had complete loss of motor function and sensation in his right leg. I instructed the deck hand to get the emergency O2 tank.
The dive had been so normal that it didn’t even dawn upon me to think that my dad was having a DCS attack. I was more concerned that he may have suffered a stroke. However, not 10 minutes into the event, he began losing vision in both eyes. The delayed symptoms led to the early conclusion that it was some form of DCS.
The dive boat captain had already contacted emergency medical services and was heading full steam to the nearest extraction point, still some 30 minutes away. My wife, the dive masters and I were busy comforting my dad.
With the healing effects of the O2, the loss of vision began to subside within 15 minutes. Also, my dad started to regain sensation in his leg. By the time we got to the dock, 35 minutes after the initial onset of symptoms, he was able to stand and even change himself out of his wetsuit. He was able to disembark and greet the EMS personnel on his own two feet, but this was only the beginning.
When we arrived at the dock the waiting EMS personnel suggested that my dad be rushed to the nearest hyperbaric chamber but my dad insisted he was fine. It took a few minutes of serious coaxing before he begrudgingly agreed to go. Once at the hyperbaric chamber clinic the doctor recommended immediate recompression therapy and again my dad resisted, but I urged him to play it safe, so he agreed to go in the chamber.
My dad insisted that he was going to fly home the next day and that everything would be fine but this was not to be. After the first five-hour recompression session my dad went back to the hotel. His vision was fine but his legs were clearly not. He could barely stand. It ultimately took 30 hours over 10 sessions in the hyperbaric chamber before he flew home.
After those 10 sessions my dad had regained complete motor control of his legs and 99% of the numbness had subsided. The only remaining symptom is that he cannot fully sense hot and cold on certain parts of his legs. In the grand scheme of all the horrible ways this story could have ended had there not been emergency O2 on the boat or had my dad stubbornly resisted going into the recompression chamber, I consider his recovery more than satisfactory.
What I Learned
Lesson 1: DCS is not an urban legend. Anyone can fall victim to DCS on any dive, no matter how safe the profile and regardless of your level of experience. The subject of DCS is covered at every level of diver training and while, of course, the entire purpose of planning safe dives is to avoid DCS, I never thought about it specifically in planning or conducting a recreational dive. In this modern age of diving computers and high quality training I was lulled into a false sense of security.
Lesson 2: Know the risk factors. While your chances of falling victim to DCS are slim, you must account for risk factors such as age, fitness level, body weight, smoking, dehydration, etc. (this list is not exhaustive). Despite my dad having 1000+ dives under his belt, he is a life-long smoker. Couple that with being 61 years old, slightly overweight, doesn’t exercise regularly and the picture begins to become clear. A basic health screening is necessary to uncover your risk factors.
Lesson 3: Avoid denial. A DCS victim may be in denial, particularly if, as in my dad’s case, the dive went normally. The first thing you may think is that it can’t really be the bends because: you didn’t overstay your dive plan, you came up slowly, you did a safety stop and now all the symptoms are subsiding. Although the effects of breathing O2 may have temporarily neutralized the symptoms, those symptoms can regress without recompression treatment. Do not allow denial to delay treatment. Immediate treatment can eliminate or mitigate what could otherwise be life-long debilitation – even death.
Lesson 4: Get insurance. Make sure your health plan has 100% coverage for emergencies abroad or better yet, sign up for DAN insurance. You don’t even want to know what this would have cost my dad out-of-pocket had he not been covered.
Lesson 5: The quality of the dive operation can be the difference between life and death. This is the most unlikely lesson that I learned but must be emphasized. Pick your dive operation carefully! When in Cozumel we dive with Aqua Safari because of the quality of their dive masters and their general philosophy regarding safety. After the accident, Bill Horn, the proprietor of Aqua Safari, was present at the clinic every time my dad entered or exited the recompression chamber. It was extremely meaningful to have his support through some scary moments. In speaking with Bill I learned some unsettling facts regarding other dive operators on the island, the most significant of which is that not all dive boats have emergency O2 onboard. If not for treating my dad with emergency O2 immediately upon the occurrence of symptoms the outcome of this story could have been dire. Also, when every moment matters, it is crucial to be diving with a company that has emergency procedures in place. When in Cozumel I would never consider diving with anyone other than Aqua Safari but in general I would inquire to make sure that any dive operator I go with has emergency oxygen and procedures in place to thwart tragedy.
