24 hours of hell

...or making Baghdad seem better than a vacation.

Only I could really do that, it seems.

On Wednesday night, about 29 hours ago, I decided to celebrate my two open water dives with a burger and some beer. I was a bit antsy about the decision, because I had imagined a most amazing burger after the somewhat rubbery, strangely spiced stuff we get in Baghdad. I chose carefully, and ordered. The burger was good. But definitely not worth the price. 100 baht, or roughly $3.

I had to be up at 6 a.m. the next day so I could meet with everyone and go for our two morning dives, the last dives of the course...after which we'd take the final exam in the afternoon and get our temporary PADI certification cards (if we passed).

(FYI, there is a guy in this net cafe talking VERY LOUDLY while I'm here, and I'm having a very hard time concentrating. Of course, this is par for the course, and why I am calling this "24 hours of hell"...)

I went to bed early, bout 9:30 p.m. or so, and almost immediately thereafter I started to get very gassy, burping and (sorry for the extra info) passing gas. Then I began to have to run to the restroom every three minutes. Then I began to feel nauseated and began to dry heave multiple times (nothing would come out). I don't like to vomit, so perhaps I was't allowing it all to come out. I would try to lie down and sleep and then would begin to shiver uncontrollably as terrible cramps and pain seized my entire body. This went on until 6 a.m. when I called my instructor Dennis and asked him what I should do. If I missed the course's last day, everything else would be for naught, and I had a flight out of Koh Tao for Friday. With restrictions on flying after diving, I had few chances of finishing up my certification. He suggested I get out there and give it a try, go on the boat, and if I feel too terrible to not dive.

I was too weak to say otherwise, and really wanted to finish.

I grabbed my stuff and went down, protecting my belly as much as I could from the spasms of walking. I couldn't find immodium anywhere, but I picked up some extra water. On the ride over to the big boat I thought it'd be nice to take a photo, but realized I didn't have the energy to take my camera out of my bag. I got on the boat and tried to think positively. The marine toilet on our boat, Navakid, is basically an open door to the ocean, with a barrel of water next to it. I made many trips to the marine toilet.

Our first dive site was Southwest Pinnacle. It's roughly 45 minutes away, and as luck would have it, the waters were VERY CHOPPY and rough. The boat flopped from one side to the next and I braced myself in agony. By the time we got to the site, I was dying from the pitching of the waters and begging to get in so that things would settle. I made one last trip to the bathroom and geared up. We were traveling with a videographer to film our course, and I gritted my teeth and tried to grin and bear it, but I felt very very weak and dehydrated already.

We jumped in the waters, doing the dead man's fall backwards. I felt it apt. And then we got ready to do a quick skill test. Because our bodies weren't already inundated with nitrogen from diving, and we were "fresh," we had to do the CESA, emergency drill, which is basically an all hands on deck sort of run for the surface, blowing bubbles outward to avoid lung overexpansion. I wanted to do the drill first, but didn't realize how wacked out I was already. I went down the roughly five meters or so below water, and prepared to do the drill. Not realizing I should keep my regulator in my mouth, I pulled it out, blew out all my oxygen immediately, and when the instructor pulled me down to stop me from continuing that way, thought I was stuck. I panicked. Swallowing tons of water. Dennis grabbed my reg and smacked it into my mouth, purging it, and I tried to calm myself, coughing and breathing through the water, coughing and purging. Then motioned upwards, entirely wigged out. He tried to salvage the situation, calming me. After I calmed down a bit more, I motioned up again, claustraphobic as ever. I guess I could say my stomach didn't ache though, my mind was elsewhere. We got to the surface, and I watched my other classmates do the drill. Then it was (too soon) my turn. I went down slowly, sucked it up, and did it. At the surface we got ready to go for the real dive now. It was too soon, again, for me.

But dive we did. This time at a little over 17 meters, with 18 meters the limit for someone who is open water certified. Previously we'd only been as deep as 10 meters. It felt much better on my stomach underwater, but I was starting to feel a bit chilled and tired out. The fish and plants were beautiful, and I wondered where everyone was rushing off too. Sometimes a whole group of fish would swim by, and I would stop for them. The second dive, I think, it was a school of Barraccuda. Or sometimes a lone fish would just be scurrying right by me, and it was amazing to see us occupying the same space. After 43 minutes, the dive was over, and we went back up to the boat. Climbing out of the water was exhausting, and once I got up, I rushed to the toilet, sick again. After, I grabbed two pieces of watermelon that had been cut up for us. That along with a tentatively eaten banana was all I had eaten in the last 12 hours. Then it was another 30 minute ride of pure torture to the next dive site, and I mostly sat as still as possible on the tossing deck, staring at the goosebumps on my arms and trying not to cry.

Once we got to the next dive site, we went down to suit up. I was nearly prepared and doing the final check with my buddy, when a wave of nauseau came over me and out came the watermelon, banana, and any water I had drank all over the deck. Dennis moved me closer to the side of the boat, and again, and again, I vomited. I told him to get me water, realizing that I was vomiting off the stench of my own vomit. I vomited again. Then quickly rinsed my mouth out with water as the Thai crew ran water off a hose over me, my gear and the boat. I did feel much better, but even weaker afterward.

Dennis had said this dive would be less deep, but longer. Just those words nearly made me cry.

I did a frontward flip into the water. Then we went down to 10.7 meters and swam around, fish-watching. After a bit, we ascended to about five meters and began to "clown around" for the videographer. I did my best to act normal. But it took a lot of energy. Soon though we were ascending more and back up to the boat. Only 26 minutes in the water. I never asked why.

Back on the boat I stretched out on a table on my back. Amazed that I was still alive. I visited the marine toilet again. Then once we arrived on shore met with the rest of the class to clean up my gear. They'd left my bag on the boat--along with the socks I had been wearing b/c my fins didn't fit properly. We all then met to talk logistics for later on. I was on super speed unable to sit still without jostling trying to go somewhere, anywhere, to stop the pain. I told the office to give me AC for my room so I could rest, despite the extra cost. Dennis let me leave early, at about 12:30 p.m. saying we needed to return by 4:45 p.m. for the exam and needed to have finished all the reading/homework. I had four of five chapters left to do, but was planning to take a nap first.

I went back, showered, then fell into bed. But had to continuously visit the toilet, where I ran out of toilet paper quickly. Now I understand the usefulness of those hoses in the bathroom. It got messy, but I had no energy to respond. I got into bed and started shivering uncontrollably, spasms racking my body, and pain running up and down from my stomach through my legs. I was freezing but burning, and felt delirious. I was running out of energy to string coherent words together or make a phone call, or write a text message. At about 1:30 p.m., I grabbed my wallet, phone and key and walked out of my room, stumbling out crying hysterically. I sat down on the floor, unsure of what to do. Then walked out onto the road and saw a green cross, symbol of the pharmacy med clinic. I walked in still crying and they sat me down, with small grins on their faces. When Thais are uneasy, they smile or laugh. I am glad I knew this about them...

They took my blood pressure, which was 138/85 (rough guess), my pulse was 102. Very high for me, considering my resting pulse is usually in the 40s or 50s. They took my temp, which was a slight fever at 100.something degrees. They took me to a room with A/C and hooked me up to an IV for fluids and gave me meds through it too. They closed the door. After a minute I was shivering hard again, and no one came by, but I had no energy to get up. I lay there, feeling isolated and helpless. I yelled. No one heard me. I yelled more. Then I dragged myself up and out the door. Someone came over. I said, *cold*...moving my arms around myself in the diving symbol. They came in and turned off the A/C. I sat on the floor in the corridor. Disoriented. They helped me up. I got up and pointed at the blanket on the other bed. They gave it to me. Then I lay in bed resting. The nurse came in every hour or so to check on me, bring me meds, pills. I gave a stool sample (black water), and blood sample. My fever continued to climb. The doctor came in and told me my infection was very very bad. They gave me more meds. No pain meds though, and the pain was agony. I panicked at one point, wondering if they might not be doing the proper treatment, and wondering if I would die. I had reason to worry. As the Thai doctor gave me my IV a doggie was running about the room and his cell phone rang. He answered it, having a conversation while the needle hung freely between his fingers. No one wore gloves.

At about 2:30 or 3 a.m., my fever broke and waves of sweat washed over me repeatedly. I smelled terrible, but I was relieved. The saline had helped too and after initial chapped lips and continued burning up, I now felt somewhat human again. I contiued to sleep intermittently. They brought me some toast and jam, which I tried to eat, only eating half a piece initially. The second time I ate all of the toast and jam (four halves)...

At about 11:30 a.m. they brought me my first real meal of the last 18 hours or so...fried rice with chicken. It was good, but my stomach was very picky still and I only ate about a third of it. Afterward I continued to sleep, reading my PADI open water course book and trying to do the homeworks. As I had done most of the night I intermittently turned on the TV and watched Looney Tunes, Bugs Bunny, and all those others, to take my mind off the pain. I guess we all regress when we're brought so low.

At about 4:30 p.m. I finished my fourth bag of saline solution and meds. I was given a good to go with a more than 11,000 baht bill, or roughly $310. I wiped my bank withdrawl for the day clean.

I went home and showered, then I walked over to 7/11 to get water. Thailand, btw, has the most 7/11s of any country. Anyway, I went over to the Big Blue Diving Center to try and get my exam taken care of, grab my ferry ticket to head out of Koh Tao tomorrow, and take care of my bill. Because I hadn't used my A/C or my room the night before, I was hoping they wouldn't charge me for my room. No can do. I also had hoped to continue the discount price since I was still technically taking the course. Nope on that also. I was upset. I decided to take a dorm bunk to save myself some money for the last night. And back I headed to my hotel room, already exhausted again. I packed up and got a moped ride back to the dive center. Found my instructor after much back and forth, and then took the exam. I got 100% on the exam. But then, on my way to the toilet slipped on some oil someone had dropped on the floor somehow...and busted open my right foot's big toe all along the top of it. A big bleedy gash of an open wound. I got it wrapped up, upset as ever. And was told to stay away from the ocean and to keep it dry. Good think I'm leaving here tomorrow, if I'm still alive.