a novice diver,never considered at any risk of the bends, did less than 20dives,
never did more dives, longer dives, and deeper dives
but he was diagnosed DCS.
His detailed story.
Something worth to read about
by phillip greenspun
Some things that I learned the hard way about decompression illness ("DCI", "DCS", or "the bends"):
- 85% of people treated for decompression illness were diving within limits imposed by tables or a dive computer (i.e., most people struck by DCI are following the rules)
- the symptoms of DCI as described in PADI and SSI SCUBA instruction are not a complete list
- partly because of confusion over symptoms, most people who get DCI are never properly diagnosed or treated
- a liveaboard dive cruise can significantly increase your chance of getting DCI, makes proper diagnosis less likely, and may delay treatment
Here then is my decompression illness story.
I'm a novice diver, certified with 5 beach dives in Hawaii in 1991 topped up with 11 dives in three days from a liveaboard out of Cairns, Australia in 1992 (see
http://philip.greenspun.com/nz/australia) and two more dives in the Caymans in 1994. During those 18 dives, I'd never had any problems of any kind. I never considered myself at any risk of the bends because I tend to consume air rapidly. Following six years glued to the keyboard, in August 2000, I went out for a 6-day cruise to the Coral Sea out of Townsville, Australia with Mike Ball Dive Expeditions (
www.mikeball.com). There were 19 other divers on the boat. Every one of these 19 people did more dives, longer dives, and deeper dives than I did. Yet I got ill and they did not. Mike Ball requires and supplies dive computers. I used one throughout this trip. At all times the computer showed that I had ample time remaining at my current depth for a no decompression stop ascent. I felt pretty bad during much of the trip. We started off with a 10-hour drive through rough seas. Even with a Scopalamine patch on, I felt a bit seasick. Several other passengers and crew were vomiting. Few people reporting having slept well. Keep in mind that dive boats aren't luxurious floating cities like the Love Boat. We were on
Spoilsport, which is considered Australia's finest liveaboard, staying in a "premium" cabin, and yet the noise of the engines when moving is thunderous. The hull of a powerboat acts as a resonator for all the diesel engine noise and, even if you're wearing earplugs, you might have a tough time sleeping from the noise of the engines alone. This night we had the noise plus the seas were rough enough that we were actually pitched up into the air from the mattress regularly. Bottom line is that I was a bit tired on the first day of diving but felt good because I wasn't actually green and vomiting like some of the other passengers. While equalizing on the second dive (out of 24 possible), I bruised my right eardrum a bit. Upon visiting a doctor following my return, I learned that I had a wax buildup in this ear and that was probably why it was tough to equalize.
Lesson: Get a dive medical or at least a regular physical before any new collection of SCUBA dives. By the second day my ear felt better and I enjoyed three dives to about 17-18 meters. After three or four days I found that I was unable to read with my eyeglasses on. I'm nearsighted but normally I read with my glasses. One of the precautions against taking scopalamine is for people with glaucoma so I figured that this was a side effect of the patch, though I'd used these patches 10 or 15 times before with no such effect. Early in the morning on the fifth day of the trip, I had a really bad headache, I felt pressure behind my eyes, and my right arm ached as though I'd had a tetanus shot in the biceps. Was it from the three dives the day before (23m, total bottom time 27 minutes; 20m, 28 min; 17m, 25 min; all multilevel dives)? Headache is not listed as one of the symptoms of DCI in the PADI and SSI books. Or was the headache from the scopalamine patch? And the arm ache a result of a crewman opening a door into my elbow the day before? Jason, the captain, put me on 100% oxygen as a precaution. This is the traditional first-aid given to DCI sufferers. The oxygen did not give me any relief and the Mike Ball staff said that was a sign against it being DCI since a DCI sufferer will usually feel better after 30 minutes of oxygen. Jason also telephoned the hyperbaric chamber at Townsville General Hospital and spoke with a technician there. It was the judgement of the tech that my symptoms could best be accounted for by the scopalamine and the elbow whack. A helicopter ride and treatment in the chamber seemed unnecessary. I took the scopalamine patch off. The arm ache cleared by mid-morning. My headache cleared by the afternoon. Talking to the crew and the other passengers reassured me. All of them had convinced themselves that they'd gotten bent. They'd felt or imagined twinges and were sure that they needed hyperbaric treatment. But in every case it turned out that they were simply paranoid. There are 1 million people diving every year in Queensland and only 120 are treated in Townsville's hyperbaric chamber. 1 chance in 10,000! I did a dive to 14 meters for 40 minutes to watch a shark feed and then did a 40-minute multilevel night dive, to a max depth of 14 meters. I suffered from some stress and fatigue at the end of the night dive, however, as we overshot the boat and there was a strong current flowing away from the deco bar. Mike Ball had buddied me up with Kevin, a volunteer divemaster, who'd done about 60 dives before this trip. He saved my butt by helping me fin back to the boat. Some rough times were predicted so I took an English seasickness remedy, Sturgerol, from another diver. Overnight we drove through rough seas for 10 hours to get to the wreck of the
Yongala, a coastal steamer that sank 12 miles off the coast of Queensland in 1911 with 120 lives lost. This is considered one of the world's best wreck dives. However, conditions in the morning were challenging. Few had gotten a good night's sleep. The noise of the engines and the rough water, nearly as bad as the first night's sail out, was enough to wake almost anyone. There was a substantial surface swell, the sky was intermittently gray, and we had reports of a strong current down on the wreck. One of the good things about diving with a first class outfit like Mike Ball is that they spend a lot of time preparing the site. They dropped two lines to the wreck, one on the stern and one on the bow. So it would be possible to descend and ascend on the lines, important for doing the decompression stops that Mike Ball insisted on even if the computers did not. At the bottom of each line, in about 15 meters of water, the Mike Ball crew had left a spare SCUBA tank and regulator for anyone who was low on air. If you came up on the far line you could just raise your hand to get picked up by a Zodiac rather than pull your way back to the boat. I was buddied with my girlfriend Eve Andersson, who'd done her open water certification dives on board the
Spoilsport. We asked for help from the crew and they sent Kevin, the volunteer divemaster, with us again. My plan was to descend on the line nearest the boat, drift with the current to the second line, then ascend to the surface and ask for a Zodiac pickup. Short, sweet, no finning against the current. I let Kevin overrule me. Pointing to the crashing up and down of the
Spoilsport, he said that it was tough to get back onto the boat from the Zodiac and we'd be better off just staying in the neighborhood of the first line and coming back up. We executed a modified version of Kevin's plan. The current took us fairly quickly all the way to the other end of the boat. Then we proceeded to swim back. I watched my tank pressure gauge drop from 140 bar to 40 sickeningly fast. We were back on the first line but rather than grab the spare tank, Kevin had me breathe from his octopus regulator. He still had more than 100 bar (
Lesson: be in really good shape before a challenging dive and work out with your fins doing a bunch of snorkeling.). We did the safety stops with me breathing from his octopus but it wasn't much fun because something about the arrangement kept flooding my mask. We did a 2-minute stop at 10 meters and a 3-minute stop at 5 meters and then ascended. I went back on my own tank to pull myself back to the boat along a surface line. The waves were too rough for me to feel that I could snorkel comfortably so I stayed with the regulator and watched the pressure drop from 30 to less than 10 bar. Just like it says in the books, it became a bit tougher to draw breath. I made it back to the boat but couldn't get on immediately. The swell was causing
Spoilsport to crash up and down hard enough to crack anyone's head open. So the crew was on the dive platform telling divers exactly when to approach. I got on with maybe one more breath left in my tank. There are a whole lot of lessons to be learned from the preceding. One is probably to be more assertive about insisting on an easier dive plan. Second is to not be shy to grab the spare air tank. Third is to wait for a better day (as it happened the second dive that morning on the
Yongala had much reduced surface swell and hardly any current). The PADI and SSI books don't list being scared as a contributing factor to DCI. But they do list "fatigue" and "vigorous exertion". "Weakness" is also listed as a symptom of DCI. So it is possible that I had trouble finning against the current on the
Yongala dive because of DCI picked up from previous dives and that the effort of the dive itself made the DCI worse. The poor night's sleep wouldn't have helped either. My profile on the dive was reasonable. I was down at 26 meters only for about 5 minutes then mostly up around 17 meters. My total bottom time would have been about 20 minutes. It was a no-decompression dive by the PADI tables and the dive computer certainly gave me ample margin. That said, after the
Yongala dive, I was finished. I was exhausted and collapsed on my bunk. A terrible headache developed within half an hour and I tried some oxygen (the tank was still in our cabin). I felt a little bit better towards the afternoon as we drove back towards Townsville and managed to come up on deck to gaze out at the horizon. When I got off the boat at 4:00 pm, I was dizzy and had a headache. So I hopped in a taxi to a local dive physician's office and presented my symptoms. His diagnosis:
- based on a wax buildup in my right ear, it looked like I'd had a minor ear infection
- the pressure of diving had pushed the infection into my sinuses and that was the cause of the headache
- the other symptoms were side effects from scopalamine
I was put on a course of antibiotics and sent back to the hotel.