Fear Of Heights

I am afraid of heights. What am I not afraid of, though, right?

Yesterday Nik Wallenda walked a tightrope between two skyscrapers in Chicago, IL. Just the mention of it gives me chills. Below is a photo from ABC News.

Twenty years ago, though, I overcame my fear.

I was crew on a sailboat on Lake Erie. We were in Erie, PA. It was summertime. They were having a celebration on the nearby waterfront. The festivities included fireworks.

Now, I love fireworks. There was one problem. The steaming light on the mast was blown out. We needed this light to be able to lawfully navigate and there was only myself and the captain aboard.

The light in reference was at the top of a mast that stood 45 feet above the deck of the boat. That is pretty high, for me.

As the morning turned to afternoon I thought more and more about letting the captain hoist me up in a bosun's chair so that I could replace that light bulb. A bosun's chair, by the way, is simply a board for your butt and ropes to go around your legs. It is attached to a halyard, the line that raises sails, and the halyard is pulled, pulling you up the mast.

I must have gotten in that chair a dozen times, chickening out each time. Finally I turned to liquid courage. I had a beer. That didn't do it. I had another. Then I waited a bit. At last, I had a third and with that the liquid courage took hold and I allowed him to hoist me up.

Once I got up there, it was no big deal. I replaced the light bulb, we made sure it worked, and he lowered me back to the deck.

We sailed to the festivities and had a lovely time as the fireworks filled the night sky.

Would I do it again today? No. I am now landlocked and sail no more, and I no longer drink. But I am glad that I can recall the time that I faced my fear and, with the help of a little liquid courage, made it a night to remember instead of regret.

Meniere's In Your Ears Is No Fun

The American Tinnitus Association has deemed the week of May 18th to May 24th Tinnitus Awareness Week. They say that ten to fifteen percent of Americans are afflicted with tinnitus, or "ringing" in the ears. Although it is described as ringing it can be hissing, buzzing, roaring, whistling, and humming. It can be as soft as a whisper and as loud as a freight train.

While it often follows exposure to a loud noise, it can occur for other reasons. In my case, that reason was Meniere's Disease.

Tinnitus makes it hard to sleep, concentrate, have a conversation, and hear in a crowd. Often just trying to relax is a chore because you always hear the susurration in one or both ears.

My journey into tinnitus hell started innocuously enough. One day on my way to work I felt a little dizzy and my ear started ringing. The world turned a quarter, then stopped. I thought, "Well, that was weird". But my ear continued to ring. About ten years later the attacks were so bad that I spent a year on steroids then decided, with my ear, nose, and throat doctor, to have surgery to remove my right inner ear.

By attack I mean that I would get so dizzy that the entire world would spin and I would lose my balance, fall down, and throw up. Many times I went to the emergency room because I couldn't get it to stop.

Still, even though the surgery stopped the attacks, I suffer from tinnitus in my right ear. Sometimes it is a whisper, sometimes it is a freight train, but it is always there.

Before all this occurred, I used to sail. I delivered new sailboats from Myrtle Beach, SC to the British Virgin Islands and West Indies and Bahamas and worked on private boats up and down the eastern seaboard. In all that time I took care of dozens of people who were seasick. That's where you can't stand straight and you throw up. I always felt so bad for those afflicted but I never once felt seasick.

I had some wonderful people who helped me in my times of need when I was having the attacks. I think it was my karma for having taken such good care of those that were seasick. I am so glad I took the extra time to make them feel better.

The next time someone tells you that their ears are ringing, please don't dismiss it as a character flaw. Tinnitus is a very real problem that afflicts so many dear souls. Thank you.

Dirty Laundry On A Plane

Many years ago I helped deliver sailboats from Myrtle Beach, SC to the British Virgin Islands. Sometimes the weather was kind to us, sometimes it hated us. On one trip, it despised us.

It usually took about a week to sail to the island of Tortola in the BVI. This time, it took thirteen days. And on every one of those days it rained. On most days, it not only rained but it stormed. I was lucky to be sailing with an experienced captain, who was my boyfriend at the time, and a crew member who was also a good friend and an excellent sailor.

We were going in tandem with another boat. We soon lost sight of them, but we were still in contact with the VHS radio. The stoves on the boats were on gimbals, meaning that the stove could tilt to accommodate the tilting of the boat and would always remain upright. Well, their stove was not installed correctly and would not tilt, meaning that they could not cook. When you are cold and wet, at least a cup of coffee is a small consolation and a hot meal is a blessing.

I know it was in February because on the morning of Valentine's Day I was on watch in the morning when I got a special delivery. A group of balloons, most likely from a cruise ship, floated by us. When I told the captain of the other boat about it he joked that they were from him and that there was a chocolate bar attached to the bouquet.

Once we arrived at Tortola the weather was fine. It was sunny and warm. The islands really are beautiful. But we had used all the clothing we had brought with us. Nearly every stitch was wet and salty from the rain and the waves that had come crashing over the bow of the boat. Since we were only there for two days before we had to catch the plane home, my boyfriend and I decided not to spend a day doing laundry. All the wet clothes were put into one big green army surplus duffel bag.

Our luggage consisted of his bag, my bag, the duffel with the dirty laundry, and a large metallic trunk full of tools and replacement bits that he brought on every voyage. Even though this was before the tragedy that occurred on 9-11 we were used to getting pulled aside to be searched in the airport about every fourth voyage.

Of course, this was one of those times. We opened our bags and the trunk for the couple of men from customs and security. That was when the younger man reached for the green dirty laundry bag. As he started to undo the strap on top I told him, "You can open that if you want, of course, but it has two weeks of wet, salty, moldy clothes in it so don't have your face close to it when you open it.". I will never forget the look on his face. He was thinking,"Are you serious?". He looked back and forth from me to his fellow officer and back to me. Then he, very carefully, handed the bag back to me and said, "Um, that's okay. I believe you.".

I often think of that young man's face when I hear of people having trouble with the TSA now. I know that it would never have happened that way in today's world and I am glad that it happened before things changed. I can just imagine going through all the nasty clothes, and I shudder.