So, lets talk about how when I was a child my dad often took my family to the beach. He loves swimming in the ocean. Growing up in Santa Monica it was kind of expected that you would know how to swim they even offer swimming lessons during physical education in different levels! Anyways, when I was very young maybe around 7 or 8 I hadn't gotten professional swimming lessons but I held my own in pools and I could keep up with my dad. The water never scared me.
One day we all went to the beach my brother was 3 years old and he was building sand castles with my mom, my dad and I went into the water. I got caught by a rip current and got tossed and tossed around under water. As a child this was terrifying I didn't know how far out I'd gone and I couldn't get ahold of myself. The water was controlling me. All I could think about was holding my breath and getting air. Before I could think my dad and a life guard had found me and carried me back to shore. I was questioned and traumatized to say the least. We packed up that evening and went home. My brother was never fond of the water and his experience watching me caused him to become scared of the water. My mom vowed to never let us go back in the water.
After that, I never went back into the ocean to swim. However, my love for swimming didn't vanish. I joined a swim team while I was in middle school and loved going to pool parties. I would frequent the beach with my friends in high school to go tanning, or take photos, or to walk along the shore.
Once I left to university everyone was amazed that I lived a few blocks from the beach in Santa Monica and didn't go swimming every day. I guess you take things for granted but I never felt like revisiting my childhood trauma. So, I just made lame excuses that I didn't like the ocean but would be all in if a pool was involved. My now husband, grew up in Hawaii and when we moved back to Santa Monica he could not wait to go to the beach everyday. I confessed my fear to him and we started going ever so further into the water every day. He was a great coach to get over my ocean rip current fear. Little did we know I would get a new fear.
I had gotten pretty confident in my swimming in the ocean and we would go past the wave breaking point and spend a few hours swimming. This went on for a few months. Then one foggy morning, we went out and I got tossed by a wave and trying to get my footing together I felt a sharp point on the bottom of my right foot. I kept swimming tried to stick my foot out of the water to see if I had stepped on glass as our oceans are not known to be the cleanest. I examined my foot and didn't see anything. I kept catching up with my husband and the pain grew instead. I shouted to my husband that my foot was hurting and was going to be heading in to examine my foot. I began to swim back and didn't even get three strokes in when my foot went stiff and I could no longer move it. The pain became unbearable as though someone was electrocuting me. My husband noticed I stopped swimming and came over to me and began to carry me in to shore. The lifeguard on duty met us at the shore where my husband was instructed not to move me and leave me lying down as they were bringing over the head lifeguard. They examined my foot and told me that what I had experienced was being stung by a sting ray. I do not remember what I thought was going on or why I was in pain all I remember was asking them to make the pain go away. The head lifeguard arrives driving down the sand in their truck, I remember feeling like I had stepped into a movie set. They come over with a bucket of water and ask me to step my foot into it, now please bear in mind I am hysterically crying in pain, my leg is stiff and I cannot move it, it was THE worst pain I had ever experienced. I do my best with the help of my husband and the lifeguards they sit me on the tail of the truck so that I can comfortably dangle my leg into the bucket. I am thinking oh they probably want to clean my foot, they told me they had to check to make sure there was no barb left behind as that could be devastating. I step into the bucket, THE WATER IS BOILING HOT! What?!!!!! I scream more in pain than before. The head lifeguard very casually looks at me and explains that if I fail to control myself my raised heartbeat pumping the blood through my body that the toxins would only be able to spread through my body quicker and that it was probably minutes away from affecting my heart and that could be catastrophic I would then need to be rushed to the emergency room. I froze, bit my lower lip and endured the pain. My husband asked if there was anything else we could do, if perhaps there was medicine to calm my pain, or if the hospitals could have more advanced technology. They explained to the both of us that boiling water is the only way to draw the toxins out. As much as I was crying on the inside I composed myself the best I could. They examined my foot and found the puncture wound but no left over barbs. I was in the clear. They said I would be swollen and in pain for the next 3-5 days and had to be bed ridden keeping off my foot until the toxins wore out. That if the pain didn't go away or worsened within the next few days to be taken to the emergency room. Chase had to run home to get the car, and the lifeguards drove me over on the back to meet him in the parking lot. They gave me a souvenir bag with a stingray on it that they dumped hot water into for me to keep my foot in the car with. We went home, I called work and was just in awe that this would happen.
I can proudly say I survived a stingray sting, and that is some pain. Next time you are at the beach shuffle your feet in the ground so that those little suckers know you are nearby.
Until tomorrow....
Xoxo,
Ivon Auriemma
Comments
Post a Comment