One year ago today I made my first ever jump. On the way up I was more scared than I had ever been before, seriously questioning whether I was even going to jump. Even in the open door, looking down at the ground so far below I still hadn't made my decision. However, we practice the exit routine on the ground and though I thought I was going to decide at the time once I had checked in with my instructors I just followed the process. Before I knew it I was in freefall. I don't even remember the first few seconds of the jump, as a phenomenon known as "sensory overload" took over fairly heavily. It's the only time it's ever got me even slightly, but I may as well have been unconscious. Once I got over it I started to enjoy myself, and as the rest of the jump went better and better I started falling in love. The second my feet touched the ground I knew I was hooked.
Today, to celebrate this anniversary, I planned to take the day off work and head to the drop zone. Hopefully I could get a couple of jumps, but if the weather was bad I could learn how to pack my new parachute properly from one of the instructors. However, events have conspired against me.
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Now, I'm not a doctor but... |
While I was out running a minor slip and small, painless collision left my finger rather spectacularly dislocated. A quick attempt to sort it myself resulted in a huge amount of pain, no movement from the offending digit and the conclusion that professional medical assistance was required. The NHS did themselves proud and I finished my evening with a reset finger and a prolonged high from the nitrous oxide.
It's already been re-examined and had the splint and bandages removed, so I'm making good progress but jumping is off the agenda for this weekend at least. It's on my left hand and if I found myself needing to use my reserve handle for any reason I imagine I probably could, but I'd rather wait until I'm fully fit. The sky will still be there next week. At least now I have an answer next time someone says i could hurt myself skydiving...
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