The late columnist of the Los Angeles Times, Jack Smith in his syndicated column once said, “Everything comes with practice except getting up in the morning.”
So it is with HBOT. Each dive gets a little easier.
Digging back in my cobweb addled brain for memories of Freshman Year in college, back to Physics for Dummies, it came to me that there is a relationship between hyberbaric pressure and heat. As compressed air fits into a combined space, there are more molecules to vibrate and the energy creates heat. Which is why the tank gets hot until the compressor is shut off and normal air has slower molecules so it gets colder.
It’s getting easier with each dive but, I can assure you, there are a lot of places I would rather be than in the tank.
The worst part of this is the solitude, coupled with not being in control. I am at the mercy of the tech who operates the controls - sort of like being in jail. The air pressure holds the hatch tightly shut, so there is no way out of this thing when the pressure is even slightly above the normal barometric pressure. My water bottles begin to collapse within seconds of the hatch closing.
Another thing that drives me crazy is not being able to write - computer, pen or even pencil. For a creative soul like me, it is literally, like being in jail except that I know I’ll be out soon.
The last thing that drives me crazy is that there is no way to measure the time passage. No clocks are visible from the portholes. Dave, thankfully, raps on the window every 20 or 30 minutes to let me know how much time is left.
Well, break’s over. Back to my tank.