27 January, 2004
12:00 AM arrived with little fanfare. After the day that most of my
science colleagues and I had had with seasickness yesterday, I felt on
my way to a much better day. The ship was on a path that gave
predictable waves. I took a shower, and checked email and had a few
crackers and water. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. I thought
about heading down to midrats, but chose instead to do a little reading
and catch up on photos.
I felt pretty confident that it was going to be OK. I had been eating
and drinking since I began feeling better the day before, and I was
sure I had things licked. At 1:50 AM, just ten minutes before the start
of my watch, the ship changed course for the start of a new shot line.
My head and stomach both started somersaulting and flipping in a random
violent assault on my body that sent my brain into overload. I couldn't
get to the bathroom fast enough. In less than ten minutes I had gone
from a ready to go scientist to a quivering drooling lump hunched over
a toilet, thinking that I couldn't feel much worse, knowing that it
would be hours before the ship changed direction.
I half crawled, half stumbled back to my bed, managing not to smack my
head against the upper berth or ladder. I lay down as flat as I could
clenching the sides of the mattress hoping that if I was certain of its
location, it would somehow still the motion of the ship. I would have
no such luck.
At this point, I am not sure who came to my door, but with every macho
bone in my body I hobbled to the door to let them in and feign that I
was OK at least for the short run. Unfortunately the color green that
had taken over my skin and even my nails warned them of the truth. I
was a putrefying mass of flesh, incapable of making it to the door let
alone sit watch. I was destined to be down for the count a second day.
By this time Terry Wilson and Huw Horgan were concerned that I was far
sicker than I might have thought, and they asked Jesse Doren, a marine
tech and EMT to come and check on me. He asked if I could make it to
the hospital, but there was no way that that was going to happen. He
returned a while later with paperwork, thermometer, and blood pressure
cuff in hand to make sure that I was not dehydrated, and on the road to
something far worse than seasickness.
After checking me out, with confirmation from a call to a doctor, he
gave me juice, water, crackers and told me to get as much down as I
could and rest. The next ten hours is lost. I don't remember sleeping,
moving, eating, anything, but by about 3:00 PM, I knew again that I was
human. I got on my coat, finished the last of the juice and water, and
headed out to the 01 deck. After about 15 minutes if felt like I could
function just a little.
I spent the rest of the afternoon with occasional visits from
well-wishers as I sat on the floor in my room, drinking water, and
hoping that the worst was over. I had dinner. It felt good to be back,
or at least on the way back. The positive encouragement of everyone
aboard made it must easier and less embarrassing.