So every single time the diving day is over, usually as soon as I'm in the car on the way home, I'm convinced I have the bends.
A little soreness in the small of my back is obviously not from lugging 50lbs of gear up and down a hill all morning, or from being in an unnatural position in an unnatural environment for hours. It's obviously the bends.
Oh, my wrist is a little sore. It was only a tiny bit sore this morning, but now it's really sore after diving. Uh, oh. Bends.
What's this itchy rash in the crook of my elbow? Excema? Poison Ivy? Being in a wetsuit that I didn't shampoo last week? No, probably bends.
In each case I wait nervously to see if it gets any worse and, strangely, while I'm waiting, each time it has gone away.
I'm only now hedging up to 20 dives... please tell me this hypochondria will go the hell away.
A little soreness in the small of my back is obviously not from lugging 50lbs of gear up and down a hill all morning, or from being in an unnatural position in an unnatural environment for hours. It's obviously the bends.
Oh, my wrist is a little sore. It was only a tiny bit sore this morning, but now it's really sore after diving. Uh, oh. Bends.
What's this itchy rash in the crook of my elbow? Excema? Poison Ivy? Being in a wetsuit that I didn't shampoo last week? No, probably bends.
In each case I wait nervously to see if it gets any worse and, strangely, while I'm waiting, each time it has gone away.
I'm only now hedging up to 20 dives... please tell me this hypochondria will go the hell away.