WK 7: Fish Out of Water

Cap Matoopa, Mahe, Seychelles

We've all heard it before, but the difference between a stepping or stumbling stone is the way we use it. but it's not just a matter of utilisation, mindset is key- and a clear head (plus all the supportive people on base) is what pulled me through a mentally and physically draining week. I am better for the wear - surely these experiences are the building blocks and mortar of character - stepping not stumbling.

*****

WK 6's title (Life is not what you look at, it is what you Sea) flashed like a marque across my vision daily. Struggling and striving to maintain clear sight despite the circumstances that arose. Under siege, I found Week 7 one of the most mentally and physically demanding as a battle waged within my body. I found solace on base in seclusion beneath one of the many fruit trees, closing my eyes to see clearer. Life is what you see, sea, see...

The Hunt begins

It all started on Sunday. I was uncannily fatigued by early evening. "It's the granola," I declared- the hunt for coconuts, then husking, grating, and baking took a full 9 hours. "Anyone would be tired after such work." I muttered to myself as I lay sprawled across a crooked wooden bench, waiting for a batch of granola to golden. I pushed aside the curious ache in my thigh and sore knee as the consequence of routine wear and tear (despite its peculiarity). Sure my knee was swollen around a coral cut, a 'token' of a survey dive. Yes, I could feel enlarged lymph glands acutely with every movement, no pain no gain they say. And when I saw a prominent red line running up my thigh from the knee I convinced myself it was no cause for concern.

Tough love

Thankfully, someone else saw things with a slightly more informed perspective. I was called off Monday's dive (and subsequently my leadership day) for a trip into town to visit the doctor. I didn't protest or stubbornly refute as I've been trained to do over the years. Instead, I took a deep breath and saw the situation clearly, realizing my innate fragility. I humbly accepted the opportunity to be treated before problems escalated out of hand. The doctor prescribed antibiotics for a week, ibuprofen for 3 days, and recommended no diving for at least 2 days. Despite the limiting diagnosis, I was grateful that people were looking out for me and silently hoped I could learn to do the same.

I felt quite mobile thanks to the ibuprofen (though let me be the first to say I wish I could have gone without it). The pain was dulled and the swelling lessened to such an extent that my terrestrial endeavors were essentially unhindered. I remained content knowing I was still an active member of the expedition out of the water. It was better to let myself go with the flow of things, than to struggle against the land bound current. I'd drift back out to sea in due time.

Hunting from a  2nd story ledge

Keeping my outlook positive, the following dry days were occupied with base duties and fruit(ful) hunts. Scouring base and the surrounding area for fruit- I saw the terrain with new found appreciation. My eyes quickly learned to spot the best mango, breadfruit, coconut, starfruit, banana, and guava. The hunts kept my head up in more ways than one, and every time I returned to base with sacks full of bounty.

Midweek I had a bit of an unsettling surprise when the lymph glands on the opposite side of my body swelled. Playing it safe (a new game, I'm learning) I revisited the doctor. He decided to maintain my prescription, but extended my out of water time through the week's end and cautioned that I should not over exert myself. The diagnosis, while not unexpected, tested the fortitude of my foundation as my manner of coping, fruit hunting and being as active on base as possible, would have to be toned down over the next few days. It was a hard fact to take, but I took a deep breath and knew a few days rest would be worth the next few months in the water. Clear mind, clear vision. See, sea, see...

By week's end, I was more than a little antsy and struggling to keep good spirits. Day after day of hovering around base had drained all mental energy. Limiting myself to such an extent is not an exercise with which I've skills to any degree. However, every moment in the water from here on out will be that much more fulfilling and I can say for certain that though it hurt, I've grown by leaps and bounds.