How Hypothermia Taught Me to Always Trust My Gut

You ever have that feeling when you know something is wrong, but you convince yourself that it isn't?

Maybe you're doing something new and you don't quite know what to expect, so you keep telling yourself that everything is ok.  Or, maybe you bring up your discomfort to a friend only to have them shoot you down and tell you that everything is alright.  And still other times, you convince yourself beyond a doubt that you're over reacting.

A lot of times those are accurate responses.

But sometimes you need to trust your gut.

 

One of Those Instances

Last November, we found ourselves in Iceland: exploring waterfalls, skipping on black sand beaches, and climbing to the top of some exquisite churches.

 

 

 

Seljalandsfoss

Reynisfjara, Vík

Hallgrímskirkja, my favorite church in Reykjavik

 

One day we decided to SCUBA dive the Silfra Fissure.

I mean, swimming between the North American and Eurasian continental plates, how could we not?

Being avid divers, this was a must do bucket list item.

What it would look like

In all honesty, I hesitated initially, thinking it would be way too cold.

Come on, glacier runoff in Iceland in November, NBD right?

But then being in a dry suit, I figured I'd be fine.  I just couldn't pass up this opportunity.

Staying Dry

The day of the dive, mother earth blessed us with 30 degree air temperature and torrential rain.

To keep warm, we put on our gear inside the dive van.  First came a pair of thick, wool socks, then a big, warm jumpsuit over my leggings and jacket.  By the end, I felt more like an astronaut than a SCUBA diver.

Or maybe a snowmobiler?

When it was time, we emerged from the van and struggled into our massive dry suits.  Having never worn a dry suit before, I was nervous. The dive master cautiously checked all of our seals, giving me a couple extra bands to ensure the one around my neck was tight.

Almost ready!

Then came the weight vests (which looked like something a firefighter would wear), gloves, hood and tank. All in all, I had about 50-75 pounds of weight and boy could I feel it.

The Moment of Truth

We walked down some stairs to the edge of the water.

The channel from above

I braced myself knowing this water was going to be cold, between 1-3 degrees Celsius (33-36 F).

That's way brrr!

First foot in the water, nothing. I felt nothing.

"That's weird," I thought.

Second foot in the water, same thing.  I was able to walk all the way to chest level without really noticing that I was in water.  It was such a strange experience.

I submerged myself under the water.

Immediately, I was awestruck by the clearness and crispness of the water, as well as the incredible rocks around me.  Somehow I forgot about how cold it really was.

I should also mention that it was fresh water, some of the freshest water on the planet. You can drink it, Mr. Wow did and said it was delicious! Imagine diving in an ice cold bottle of Evian.

It was unreal!

This Isn't How It is Supposed to Be

About halfway through the dive, I felt a chill starting at my neck, slowly descending to my stomach and then to my legs.  I didn't think this was how it was supposed to feel, but since I didn't really know any different, I convinced myself that I was fine.

Really, I'm fine!

I started to get cold, REALLY cold. I couldn't even focus on enjoying the dive anymore.  Upon seeing the exit stairs, I bolted to be the first one out of the water.

Someone Telling Me It's Okay

Walking back to the van, I recalled the conversation.

"I'm cold."

"We're all cold!" Mr Wow replied. "We just dove in freezing cold water and now it's snowing!"

"I feel like I'm walking in puddles," I mumbled.

"We're all walking in puddles," he snarked back. "It is snowing, there are puddles everywhere."

Despite being the first one out of the water, I was the last one back to the van. I was exhausted and starting the shake.  I was cold and wet, but I was convinced that I was fine.

Just like Jack, I was fine!

As our group prepared for a second dive, I couldn't fathom the idea. I took off my gear.  The dive master pulled off my dry suit and a deluge of water poured into the parking lot. I was completely drenched. Everyone's jaws dropped as they looked at me in utter shock. I could read their minds:

That isn't how it's supposed to work!

I'm Not Over-Reacting!

Come to find out, that chill I felt was actually the seal around my neck leaking, slowly allowing a substantial amount of ice cold water into my suit. The inability to focus was my body conserving energy in effort to stay warm.  The puddles, well they were legit puddles from the water in my suit.

That night, I emailed my dad (a devoted diver himself) and his response really hit home.

Oh my, what a tale!  I hope that proves to be your worst dive ever.  Sounds like you experienced a minor case of hypothermia.  The shakes are not a good thing to have.

"Hypothermia? Me?" I questioned myself.

As much as I do not want to admit it, I do think my experience could be classified as such.

Bottom Line

Sometimes you need to trust your gut! There are plenty of times that people freak out about nothing or over-react to something insignificant or meaningless.  However, sometimes your intuition is spot on and needs to be heard.

I learned this lesson the hard way.  Fortunately, I still have all my fingers and toes, and eventually I did stop shaking (after a few hours and lots of hot chocolate).

The one good thing that came out of this experience, besides being able to write a post about it, was the bragging rights.  I can now officially say that I went SCUBA diving in Iceland in only a wetsuit!!

When have you ever not trusted your gut, only to realize later you really should have?