Getting Down to Earth...

This past week has been by far the most challenging in my path to wellness so far. The physical challenges have mounted.

A seemingly incurable headache that is at 69 days and counting.
Nausea. Vomiting. Dry Heaves.
Diarrhea.
Hair Loss.
Dizziness.
Difficulty concentrating.
Nightmares.
Chills, sweats, fever. Sometimes all within a matter of minutes.
Fatigue.
Tremors.
Bleeding.
Loosening teeth.
Abdominal pain.

I had to have a blood transfusion this week. Big shout out to the two AB-positive blood donors who made that possible. The blood episode exacted a cost I wasn’t prepared for, as well. For the second time in as many weeks, I have been faced with the financial realities of getting well. I had to decide whether to pay for my cash share of the blood transfusion or pay my Verizon bill. Unexpected medical bills don't meld well with working on a billable hour/consultant pay basis.  I made the obvious choice at the time. In retrospect, I wonder.

After 36 hours of no cell phone, withdrawal set in—twitching thumbs, irritability, attention deficit. I’m not so sure I would make the same decision again. Should there be a next time, I think I’ll choose the cell phone and upload pictures to my Facebook page of me sitting all thumbs up in the laps of Jesus, Josiah, and the Apostle Paul.

Anyway, the week was a tough one. By the time Sunday rolled around, I hadn’t eaten in a couple days. I hate to admit this, but I just sort of gave up. Nothing was staying down anyway. I had been contemplating how to get back on top of the mental game of all this, but I wasn’t coming up with much.

I was sitting at Starbuck’s trying to focus enough to finish a few work things on my computer, when I got a note indicating that there was a skydiving special going on in Lodi. My friend Maria, her sister Jennifer, and I have all been trying to figure out how to go for a while. I texted Maria and asked her if she was interested, but she had other things going on. Jennifer was in the middle of her three days of 12-hour nursing shifts.

With a few more phone calls, I was able to hustle up companions to at least drive with me to Sacramento, so I only had to drive a few miles on my own. It was something of a compromise situation, my compatriots telling me I should wait until I’m feeling better, and that, “someone has to be the adult here…” Fine.

I drove the last handful of miles to Lodi, and met up with Wendi, one of my Facebook buddies. She agreed to take photos of my jump. The next hour or so was one continuous shedding of fears, some of which, I’d never really consciously considered.

The first, was being in a crowd. After my number was called, I was directed to the gear room of the hangar, shuttled in with about twenty other people, in a fairly small space. It was kind of the same degree of angst I feel when in a crowded elevator.

Then, I was introduced to my tandem buddy, Logan. This handsome stranger began strapping me into my harness, clicking clasps and threading straps across my shoulders, around my thighs, and across my belly. I’m definitely not used to strangers being that close to me.

Once in the harness, Logan led me to the staging area, where he talked me through the basics of a 13,000 foot free fall. A tiny bit of fear began to set in. Before I could do much in the way of change my mind, he had me on the plane. Did I mention I’m also afraid of heights?

On the way up, Logan, Wendi and I made small talk over the roar of the engine. Logan began to strap me onto his harness. I warned him, “The last time I was this spooned up to a man, my son was the result, so pleeeease be careful back there!” He laughed and assured me that he was taking a lot of precautions.

As we neared jumping altitude, my stomach started to wretch a little. It made me wonder if anyone had ever lost their dentures or anything. Logan told Wendi and me that he’s been peed on, seen people ‘lose their lunch’, and the most curious: broke one of his head cameras. As he described it, “I was jumping with this woman, and all of a sudden it was, blue sky to the left, blue sky to the right, and then, BOOM- vagina!”

And he was worried about his camera?

As we waddled to the door of the plane, the fear momentarily set in, but I was resigned to jumping, as there were some huge guys behind us looking to get out of the plane, too. I as we edged to the door, I had that one ‘Oh Shit’ moment as I looked downward. When Logan instructed me to push off, that fear evaporated.

In realizing that I was strapped firmly to a guy who has been doing this for almost 20 years, fear gave way to awe and wonder. The feeling of sheer cold and wind was invigorating. I noticed in that moment that my headache was gone. The altitude and adrenaline rush had worked some magic.

During our 130-mph plummet back toward earth, Logan initiated some spins and turns that were invigorating, as if we were truly in flight. I was completely in awe of the enormity of the earth below us-- just one small section of it. As Logan pulled the cord on the parachute, we slowed, and I watched Wendi continue to fall at a much greater speed.

For a while, Logan handed over the pulleys to the parachute to me. It was fun to ‘drive’. With as much grace as I can muster (which admittedly, hasn’t always been enough), I’ve had to let go of so many things lately—control of my body, control of my living situation, relationships, and even parts of my future. It was nice to have control of where I floated over the farmlands of the Central Valley, even for just a few brief moments.

The scariest, most frustrating part of the whole experience was when we landed. I am far from the most graceful creature, even more so when strapped to someone else. Upon our landing, I went down. Down. On. My. Butt. And I could not get up. In that moment, I was confronted again with how weak I am right now. Fear of that weakness set in, and worse, fear of being judged for it. Before I could burden myself with too many more of those thoughts, there was a hand reaching down for me to help me up.

The whole experience made me think of how all the things that had overwhelmed me in the previous week were, just a small slice of my life, over time, and in this existence. I can make it through two or so more weeks. I can make it longer if I need to. I can do whatever it takes to kick the intruder’s ass. I’ll have help, I’ll have grace, and I’ll have the strength.

If for no other reason than there are surely more brilliant jumps from the sky in my future…