Let’s get a few things straight. Lots of people have some serious misconceptions about what it's like to drown. They say it's painful. They say it's terrifying. How would you like to know what it's like from a survivor who really experienced it herself? I won't hide anything, and I'll give it to you straight. Here's what happened in the summer of 2011:
I was swimming at a beautiful location on the North Shore of Lake Superior. I'd been there a several times before, and I was excited to bring a group of 16 people there to share the beauty. At this particular spot, Baptism River joins Lake Superior. There wasn't a fast current. The rivers waters were warm, but the lake was cold. I wanted to swim to that spot where the drastic temperature difference could be felt.
I can swim.
A girl who also enjoyed the feeling of the water could not swim. I swam out as she walked. Then she walked off a drop-off. Although I can swim, I'm not a strong swimmer, and I don't like to swim in deep water, so I decided to swim back towards the shore as she stepped into deep water. I saw her go under, and she reached for me.
Now I'll go ahead and tell you what I should have done:
1. Yell to the victim: "CALM DOWN!"
2. Get the attention of the people on the shore, and if any of them have anything to throw to the victim, it should be thrown.
3. Swim BEHIND the victim, and pull them to shallow water in a manner that does not allow them to grab you with their arms.
4. If the victim is grabbing you, you should push them, punch them, or do whatever it takes to not just save their life, but prevent yourself from becoming a victim, too.
This is what I did that afternoon:
I thought I could just push her back over the drop-off to where her feet could touch again, so I swam towards her. Then she panicked and grabbed me. I could not touch the ground, so I went under, too. We struggled like that for a couple minutes, each of us instinctively trying to get above the water by any means available. And the only way was to climb on the other and push her under. I thought that if I could get more air, I could help her. Each time I came up, I screamed for help--I didn't take in any air.
It didn't seem to take more than a minute before I blacked out. The people on shore say it was at least a couple minutes. The last thing I remember was getting extremely mad and thinking to myself, "I am NOT going to die like this!" Although I can swim, I'm a very insecure swimmer, and I had always been scared of drowning. That summer I had been working for a youth organization. 12 of the people on shore were teenagers that I brought there. I didn't want them to see anyone die. I didn't want the program to have a horrible memory of the incident. I didn't want swimming to be banned from the program forever because of a death--or two (gulp). SO, I thought to myself, "I am NOT going to die like this!...........But how am I going to make it out of this alive?" I went very deep into the water, and I may have waited and hoped for my feet to touch the ground and I could rebound up. It didn't happen. Everything went black and I was unconscious.
The next thing I remember was waking up on the beach. My friend pulled me from the water. He said that my body was lingering just an inch or two below the surface of the water, and here's what I'm sure is etched into his memory forever: My eyes were open wide. So, I woke up on the beach, laying on my right side. I felt like vomiting, but never did. I did feel the need to spit, though, which is weird for me--I hate spitting.
I felt exhausted, my head hurt, I was weak. I was concerned for the other girl. I could speak, but it must have been very quiet. There was an EMT visiting the beach with his family, so he was asking me questions, but didn't hear all of my answers. I tried to sit up enough to look behind me to see the other girl, but I couldn't, so I stayed still. An ambulance was called, and they took the other girl away first. I didn't see any of it. Soon another ambulance came for me. I thought that I would be fine, that I just needed time, and I could move myself. But it was too much, so I let them put me on the board, and several men carried me up long flights of stairs on a hillside to the ambulance. By then I was able to transfer myself onto the stretcher.
In the ambulance I learned that my heartbeat was racing. I can usually feel my heart beating, and I was shocked at this information. How could it be beating so fast when I was so tired? Well, it was. But it slowed down a bit by the time we reached the hospital 40 minutes away.
In the hospital they drew blood and took x-rays of my lungs to make sure there wasn't any water in them. There wasn't. The epiglottis is a little flap of cartilage that keeps food and water from going into your lungs when you swallow. It automatically closes when you nearly drown.
Within an hour I was released from the hospital. We went back "home." The other girl was also released from the hospital. I still felt like I was going to vomit. My sinuses were killing me, my head was pounding, and I was exhausted. The other girl ate dinner with the rest of the group, and I tried to stomach a piece of bread and some canned fruit. I had to use the bathroom a lot, so I must have swallowed some water. I didn't sleep very well that night, but by morning I was on an eight hour boat ride--just doing my job--to visit a crew on an island in Lake Superior. I hated the taste of water for weeks--it all tasted like Lake Superior to me.
It was, by far, the most terrifying experience of my life, but somehow it wasn't as bad as I thought drowning would be. There was no pain--just fear. And recovery was incredible considering I almost died. I was 100% back to normal within 48 hours (except for my fear of water). If I had to choose death by drowning or by fire, I would choose drowning. Only two minutes of fear, and then you feel like you fell asleep. I'm not exactly scared of water anymore, either. I don't want to swim in deep water, and I would wear a life jacket if I did. But I love to be around water again. And on it. Just not so much submerged in it.
I was swimming at a beautiful location on the North Shore of Lake Superior. I'd been there a several times before, and I was excited to bring a group of 16 people there to share the beauty. At this particular spot, Baptism River joins Lake Superior. There wasn't a fast current. The rivers waters were warm, but the lake was cold. I wanted to swim to that spot where the drastic temperature difference could be felt.
I can swim.
A girl who also enjoyed the feeling of the water could not swim. I swam out as she walked. Then she walked off a drop-off. Although I can swim, I'm not a strong swimmer, and I don't like to swim in deep water, so I decided to swim back towards the shore as she stepped into deep water. I saw her go under, and she reached for me.
Now I'll go ahead and tell you what I should have done:
1. Yell to the victim: "CALM DOWN!"
2. Get the attention of the people on the shore, and if any of them have anything to throw to the victim, it should be thrown.
3. Swim BEHIND the victim, and pull them to shallow water in a manner that does not allow them to grab you with their arms.
4. If the victim is grabbing you, you should push them, punch them, or do whatever it takes to not just save their life, but prevent yourself from becoming a victim, too.
This is what I did that afternoon:
I thought I could just push her back over the drop-off to where her feet could touch again, so I swam towards her. Then she panicked and grabbed me. I could not touch the ground, so I went under, too. We struggled like that for a couple minutes, each of us instinctively trying to get above the water by any means available. And the only way was to climb on the other and push her under. I thought that if I could get more air, I could help her. Each time I came up, I screamed for help--I didn't take in any air.
It didn't seem to take more than a minute before I blacked out. The people on shore say it was at least a couple minutes. The last thing I remember was getting extremely mad and thinking to myself, "I am NOT going to die like this!" Although I can swim, I'm a very insecure swimmer, and I had always been scared of drowning. That summer I had been working for a youth organization. 12 of the people on shore were teenagers that I brought there. I didn't want them to see anyone die. I didn't want the program to have a horrible memory of the incident. I didn't want swimming to be banned from the program forever because of a death--or two (gulp). SO, I thought to myself, "I am NOT going to die like this!...........But how am I going to make it out of this alive?" I went very deep into the water, and I may have waited and hoped for my feet to touch the ground and I could rebound up. It didn't happen. Everything went black and I was unconscious.
The next thing I remember was waking up on the beach. My friend pulled me from the water. He said that my body was lingering just an inch or two below the surface of the water, and here's what I'm sure is etched into his memory forever: My eyes were open wide. So, I woke up on the beach, laying on my right side. I felt like vomiting, but never did. I did feel the need to spit, though, which is weird for me--I hate spitting.
I felt exhausted, my head hurt, I was weak. I was concerned for the other girl. I could speak, but it must have been very quiet. There was an EMT visiting the beach with his family, so he was asking me questions, but didn't hear all of my answers. I tried to sit up enough to look behind me to see the other girl, but I couldn't, so I stayed still. An ambulance was called, and they took the other girl away first. I didn't see any of it. Soon another ambulance came for me. I thought that I would be fine, that I just needed time, and I could move myself. But it was too much, so I let them put me on the board, and several men carried me up long flights of stairs on a hillside to the ambulance. By then I was able to transfer myself onto the stretcher.
In the ambulance I learned that my heartbeat was racing. I can usually feel my heart beating, and I was shocked at this information. How could it be beating so fast when I was so tired? Well, it was. But it slowed down a bit by the time we reached the hospital 40 minutes away.
In the hospital they drew blood and took x-rays of my lungs to make sure there wasn't any water in them. There wasn't. The epiglottis is a little flap of cartilage that keeps food and water from going into your lungs when you swallow. It automatically closes when you nearly drown.
Within an hour I was released from the hospital. We went back "home." The other girl was also released from the hospital. I still felt like I was going to vomit. My sinuses were killing me, my head was pounding, and I was exhausted. The other girl ate dinner with the rest of the group, and I tried to stomach a piece of bread and some canned fruit. I had to use the bathroom a lot, so I must have swallowed some water. I didn't sleep very well that night, but by morning I was on an eight hour boat ride--just doing my job--to visit a crew on an island in Lake Superior. I hated the taste of water for weeks--it all tasted like Lake Superior to me.
It was, by far, the most terrifying experience of my life, but somehow it wasn't as bad as I thought drowning would be. There was no pain--just fear. And recovery was incredible considering I almost died. I was 100% back to normal within 48 hours (except for my fear of water). If I had to choose death by drowning or by fire, I would choose drowning. Only two minutes of fear, and then you feel like you fell asleep. I'm not exactly scared of water anymore, either. I don't want to swim in deep water, and I would wear a life jacket if I did. But I love to be around water again. And on it. Just not so much submerged in it.
I wish Red Cross would teach the releases in their lifesaving swim lessons like I did when I was teaching swimming. Body contact is the last resort, but if there is body contact, people should know how to break those holds and get away. I thought I had taught you kids those holds and releases, but I guess I didn't do a very good job of it. I am very grateful that all turned out ok.
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