Windminstrel
Guest
My co-worker's friend's son had a bit of excitement on a cruise. Seems odd to me -- how would you get an embolism from snorkeling?
from http://cobweb.seas.gwu.edu/~sparv/rescue/here.php
The ship set sail from Ft. Lauderdale last Monday. The first stop was Key West; not much exciting here; saw Hemmingways house and mile-marker zero of U.S. Route 1. You cant be any farther south.
Next, Cozumel, Mexico. A VERY poor, depressed, area. Great bars, thoughCarlos & Charlies, and some Frog place.
On to Grand Cayman, where we went snorkeling Friday morning this is where it all began. They took us to 2 dive sites. The first mooring was directly above a shipwreck. I watched from the surface as the kids dove up and down to get a closer look. With flippers on, coupled with their swimming abilities, they we able to go down deep. Matthew dived VERY deepit looked like 15 feet or so from my underwater view, but my guess is it was actually deeper, since things appear closer as they are magnified by the water.
The other dive site was unbelievablecoral like youve never seen, with everything from exotic fish to eels in and around it. Up and down they went for about 90 minutes. When we climbed back onboard the snorkel boat Kate said she felt nauseas; Matt said he though his voice sounded different. I attributed her sickness to the rocking boat, and Matts to his ears being affected by the depth. We spent the rest of the day shopping in town, and went back to the mother ship around 5; Mary Ann and Kate went to primp for the New Years Eve festivities; I headed for BINGOnightly prizes of thousands of [tax free] dollarsand waited for Matt. He took the last tender back, and was late getting there; sat down next to me sweating profusely and said I hurt myself diving today; my heart hurts. I was hoping it was something muscular, possibly from straining to swim down then bolting to the surface out of breath. After some resistance, he agreed on to the Infirmary.
You would think you just walked into Mass General. Several doctors and nurses were on staff, and examined him extensively: EKG; chest x-rays; blood work. When the results were inhe was promptly admitted to the Intensive Care Unit; diagnosis: baro-trauma. The combination of repetitive deep breaths and deep diving put too much stress on his lungs. Air leaked out and is presently surrounding his heart. There should not be ANY air around your heart. Its possible that your heart could reabsorb the oxygen. If the heart doesnt reabsorb it, hell have to have a tube inserted surgically to remove it. However, if the air causes too much pressure on your heart, you could have a heart attack. The docs told me we have informed the Captain, we may have to reroute the ship to get him help; we have the last say and can overrule him if necessary. I went to the dining room to tell the others.
By this time, we had already set sail from Grand Cayman; we were supposed to go around the EAST coast of Cuba, and dock in Nassau after a day at sea and traveling some 1,100 miles; we are in the middle of NOWHERE
Heavy dialogue and consultation begins between the medical staff onboard, medical staff at Cleveland Clinic Florida, the U.S. Coast Guard, the ships Captain, the ships lawyers, etc., etc., etc. At 8pm Friday were informed of the decision. Its too risky to keep him onboard until Monday. The ship [carrying 2,200 passengers and 700 crewmembers] will be diverted; they will change course; turn around and head back the way we came [around the WEST coast of Cuba].
They still have not decided WHERE they will bring him, or HOW he would get off of the ship. He remains in the ICU, fully conscious and aware, but on 100% oxygen and IV to help the heart reabsorb. The monitor shows his heart rate is north of 125; his sister [the sophomore nursing student] is quick to point out that it should be at the lower end of the 60-to-100 range; it promptly escalates to 135.
During the next several hours they tell us of the possibilities: Cozumel, Mexico for the drop point [are you kidding me? They probably dont even have band aids there!]; helicopter rescue [where only HE would get off the ship; pulled up by a cable while lying on a stretcher]; boat rescue, where one of us MIGHT be able to go with him. No decision made Friday night. Later that night additional chest x-rays confirm their decision; at 10 minutes until 2005 were pouring over the resultsair still surrounds the heart; thankfully his condition is static; it has not worsened. Not much slept that night.
8:30am Saturday another set of tests; results still the same; air where it shouldnt be. The Captain makes a ship wide announcement about the pending medical evacuation, as passengers are wondering whats going on. We are told the Captain has increased the speed of the ship; however strong winds and high seas will extend the time by 3 hours. All day long we wonderhelicopter or boat? Alone or with us? Mexico or U.S.?
4:30pm the Coast Guard makes the callit will be a boat rescue; from the last buoy off of Key West; all of us can go with him; Mary Ann and Kate will stay, since we cant take our 8 suitcases and 4 carry-ons with us; Ill go. They will rendezvous with the ship at 7pm, 7 miles from shore in the Atlantic. I pack a change of clothes for us and leave my stateroom for the Infirmarysomeone sees me with the suitcase and heavy jacket and says jumping ship? So to speak, I mumbled. 6:30 they come in to tell us the possible logistics and ask me if we will have a problem climbing down a ladder; but not to worry, well have on life vests and be attached to a harness. No problemo. 7:00 arrives, here we go.
Hundreds of passengers along the balcony are watching, cheering, and wishing us well as we go; flash bulbs are popping. Final logistics are: there will be no tie-off; the Coast Guard boat will just pull along side the cruise ship, and have a 3-minute window to pull it off [not sure why]; there will be no ladder or harness; the ocean swells are 4 feet; we just wait for the boat to lurch up in the water, then jump down on to the deck; Matt will carry his IV.
We leap to the deck of the 47-foot Coast Guard boat and they speed off as were trying to make our way below. The boat is unbelievable100% silver steel; it looked like an armored tank. This is right out of Hawaii Five-O. A crew of 4, fully armed; in combat gear; pants tucked into their shoes; blackface [I think; maybe Im imagining]. They probably rescued us in between chasing drug dealers and protecting the coast. It was the fastest boat Ive ever been on; we covered the 7 miles in about 15 to 20 minutes; like the worst roller coaster youve ever been on, times 100. I dry-heaved a bit but never threw up. Matt thought it was cool.
At the Coast Guard port an ambulance takes us to Key West Hospital. Matt goes to the ER and I head to admitting. U.S. Customs and Immigration personnel descend on me; its not often you enter the country on a Coast Guard boat. They check our passports and inspect the luggage.
More tests for Matt, then we wait; and wait. Were fortunate that a radiologist is there to confirm the attending physicians diagnosis. The air has been fully reabsorbed; the recent x-rays show no trace of air, in stark contrast to his last onboard x-rays 14 hours earlier. He will not have to have a tube inserted. Hes out of the woods; discharged. However, doctors orders are NO FLYING FOR 5 DAYS; he cant risk any pressure on his lungs/heart.
So here we are; back at mile-marker zero again; and can not fly. We stay that night in a Key West hotel. Now, how to get home? Train sounds easy, just get to Miami [4 hours away]; but theyre sold out; no availability until Tuesday, then a 29 hour ridepass. So, we rent a car and drive to my parents house in Naples [275 miles] where were holed up now. Unfortunately, my parents left to go back to Connecticut on Sunday.
Ill have to wash each day so well have clothes, but the worst part is they have no internet [they do e-mail via web TV which cant accommodate dialing into the office]. Not a problem for a computer science major who has his trusty traveling laptop built with spare parts; he sent me to Wal*Mart to pick up a Free AOL CD and, presto, were online. Glad to see the tuition payments have paid off. Still, one computer, and two of us; an occasional arm-wrestle ensues. Hopefully, well fly out on Friday.
Hope you all had a much less exciting and Happy New Year.
from http://cobweb.seas.gwu.edu/~sparv/rescue/here.php
The ship set sail from Ft. Lauderdale last Monday. The first stop was Key West; not much exciting here; saw Hemmingways house and mile-marker zero of U.S. Route 1. You cant be any farther south.
Next, Cozumel, Mexico. A VERY poor, depressed, area. Great bars, thoughCarlos & Charlies, and some Frog place.
On to Grand Cayman, where we went snorkeling Friday morning this is where it all began. They took us to 2 dive sites. The first mooring was directly above a shipwreck. I watched from the surface as the kids dove up and down to get a closer look. With flippers on, coupled with their swimming abilities, they we able to go down deep. Matthew dived VERY deepit looked like 15 feet or so from my underwater view, but my guess is it was actually deeper, since things appear closer as they are magnified by the water.
The other dive site was unbelievablecoral like youve never seen, with everything from exotic fish to eels in and around it. Up and down they went for about 90 minutes. When we climbed back onboard the snorkel boat Kate said she felt nauseas; Matt said he though his voice sounded different. I attributed her sickness to the rocking boat, and Matts to his ears being affected by the depth. We spent the rest of the day shopping in town, and went back to the mother ship around 5; Mary Ann and Kate went to primp for the New Years Eve festivities; I headed for BINGOnightly prizes of thousands of [tax free] dollarsand waited for Matt. He took the last tender back, and was late getting there; sat down next to me sweating profusely and said I hurt myself diving today; my heart hurts. I was hoping it was something muscular, possibly from straining to swim down then bolting to the surface out of breath. After some resistance, he agreed on to the Infirmary.
You would think you just walked into Mass General. Several doctors and nurses were on staff, and examined him extensively: EKG; chest x-rays; blood work. When the results were inhe was promptly admitted to the Intensive Care Unit; diagnosis: baro-trauma. The combination of repetitive deep breaths and deep diving put too much stress on his lungs. Air leaked out and is presently surrounding his heart. There should not be ANY air around your heart. Its possible that your heart could reabsorb the oxygen. If the heart doesnt reabsorb it, hell have to have a tube inserted surgically to remove it. However, if the air causes too much pressure on your heart, you could have a heart attack. The docs told me we have informed the Captain, we may have to reroute the ship to get him help; we have the last say and can overrule him if necessary. I went to the dining room to tell the others.
By this time, we had already set sail from Grand Cayman; we were supposed to go around the EAST coast of Cuba, and dock in Nassau after a day at sea and traveling some 1,100 miles; we are in the middle of NOWHERE
Heavy dialogue and consultation begins between the medical staff onboard, medical staff at Cleveland Clinic Florida, the U.S. Coast Guard, the ships Captain, the ships lawyers, etc., etc., etc. At 8pm Friday were informed of the decision. Its too risky to keep him onboard until Monday. The ship [carrying 2,200 passengers and 700 crewmembers] will be diverted; they will change course; turn around and head back the way we came [around the WEST coast of Cuba].
They still have not decided WHERE they will bring him, or HOW he would get off of the ship. He remains in the ICU, fully conscious and aware, but on 100% oxygen and IV to help the heart reabsorb. The monitor shows his heart rate is north of 125; his sister [the sophomore nursing student] is quick to point out that it should be at the lower end of the 60-to-100 range; it promptly escalates to 135.
During the next several hours they tell us of the possibilities: Cozumel, Mexico for the drop point [are you kidding me? They probably dont even have band aids there!]; helicopter rescue [where only HE would get off the ship; pulled up by a cable while lying on a stretcher]; boat rescue, where one of us MIGHT be able to go with him. No decision made Friday night. Later that night additional chest x-rays confirm their decision; at 10 minutes until 2005 were pouring over the resultsair still surrounds the heart; thankfully his condition is static; it has not worsened. Not much slept that night.
8:30am Saturday another set of tests; results still the same; air where it shouldnt be. The Captain makes a ship wide announcement about the pending medical evacuation, as passengers are wondering whats going on. We are told the Captain has increased the speed of the ship; however strong winds and high seas will extend the time by 3 hours. All day long we wonderhelicopter or boat? Alone or with us? Mexico or U.S.?
4:30pm the Coast Guard makes the callit will be a boat rescue; from the last buoy off of Key West; all of us can go with him; Mary Ann and Kate will stay, since we cant take our 8 suitcases and 4 carry-ons with us; Ill go. They will rendezvous with the ship at 7pm, 7 miles from shore in the Atlantic. I pack a change of clothes for us and leave my stateroom for the Infirmarysomeone sees me with the suitcase and heavy jacket and says jumping ship? So to speak, I mumbled. 6:30 they come in to tell us the possible logistics and ask me if we will have a problem climbing down a ladder; but not to worry, well have on life vests and be attached to a harness. No problemo. 7:00 arrives, here we go.
Hundreds of passengers along the balcony are watching, cheering, and wishing us well as we go; flash bulbs are popping. Final logistics are: there will be no tie-off; the Coast Guard boat will just pull along side the cruise ship, and have a 3-minute window to pull it off [not sure why]; there will be no ladder or harness; the ocean swells are 4 feet; we just wait for the boat to lurch up in the water, then jump down on to the deck; Matt will carry his IV.
We leap to the deck of the 47-foot Coast Guard boat and they speed off as were trying to make our way below. The boat is unbelievable100% silver steel; it looked like an armored tank. This is right out of Hawaii Five-O. A crew of 4, fully armed; in combat gear; pants tucked into their shoes; blackface [I think; maybe Im imagining]. They probably rescued us in between chasing drug dealers and protecting the coast. It was the fastest boat Ive ever been on; we covered the 7 miles in about 15 to 20 minutes; like the worst roller coaster youve ever been on, times 100. I dry-heaved a bit but never threw up. Matt thought it was cool.
At the Coast Guard port an ambulance takes us to Key West Hospital. Matt goes to the ER and I head to admitting. U.S. Customs and Immigration personnel descend on me; its not often you enter the country on a Coast Guard boat. They check our passports and inspect the luggage.
More tests for Matt, then we wait; and wait. Were fortunate that a radiologist is there to confirm the attending physicians diagnosis. The air has been fully reabsorbed; the recent x-rays show no trace of air, in stark contrast to his last onboard x-rays 14 hours earlier. He will not have to have a tube inserted. Hes out of the woods; discharged. However, doctors orders are NO FLYING FOR 5 DAYS; he cant risk any pressure on his lungs/heart.
So here we are; back at mile-marker zero again; and can not fly. We stay that night in a Key West hotel. Now, how to get home? Train sounds easy, just get to Miami [4 hours away]; but theyre sold out; no availability until Tuesday, then a 29 hour ridepass. So, we rent a car and drive to my parents house in Naples [275 miles] where were holed up now. Unfortunately, my parents left to go back to Connecticut on Sunday.
Ill have to wash each day so well have clothes, but the worst part is they have no internet [they do e-mail via web TV which cant accommodate dialing into the office]. Not a problem for a computer science major who has his trusty traveling laptop built with spare parts; he sent me to Wal*Mart to pick up a Free AOL CD and, presto, were online. Glad to see the tuition payments have paid off. Still, one computer, and two of us; an occasional arm-wrestle ensues. Hopefully, well fly out on Friday.
Hope you all had a much less exciting and Happy New Year.
