The Day My Bucket List Changed

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Just after lunch, our pagers went off for a patient in Cape Breton who had suffered a significant heart attack. This was a flight that is perfect weather would take approximately 80 minutes one-way. The pilot's weather check was fine, reporting only a slight wind warning. I hadn't been outside since coming on at 0800 and was shocked when I stepped out onto the tarmac. The wind had become almost unbearable with tiny bits of sand and dirt whipping about in mini tornado-like squalls on the ground. It felt like needle pricks on my legs as they made contact. We loaded our gear and took off from the airport in the Sikorsky-76 at approximately 1:00 PM.

I immediately felt uneasy. I had flown in all types of weather but never in wind this strong. We got about 10 minutes out from the airport when the pilots radioed us from the cockpit to inform us we would be returning to the base. They felt that continuing in such severe wind conditions would jeopardize the crew's safety. Even though we had flown only 10 minutes it took us almost 30 minutes to get back to the base because of the headwind. My stomach was in knots from the turbulence by the time we exited the helicopter. We weren't off the hook, however. The air medical program had a contract with a local airline to provide us with a fixed-wing aircraft in cases such as this, ie, severe wind or icing conditions.

The dispatchers had arranged for the King Air 200 to take us to Cape Breton for the patient. This plane was configured in such a way that it could carry 6 people in seats as well as 2 patients on stretchers. The plan was to leave in 20 minutes.I took a Dramamine in anticipation of the turbulence. None of the air medical crew liked the fixed wing. It added significant time to our missions because it eliminated the ability to land at hospitals. We had to land at an airport near the hospital of our destination, be picked up by an ambulance and taken the rest of the way to the hospital. This typically added at least an hour to the mission time.

Kevin and I unloaded our gear and waited inside the hangar for the plane. The wind was too strong to stand outside. The plane arrived right on schedule and we met them out on the tarmac as soon as they shut their engines down. Darn! It was my 2 least favorite pilots. I always felt compelled to ask them for ID. Surely they couldn't be more than 12 years old. How much experience could they possibly have? My guess was about 6 months between them. Not wanting to be seen as a doubting Thomas I helped Kevin load the gear in and kept my mouth shut. The wind certainly hadn't improved. I was interested to see if the plane handled the wind any better than the helicopter.

Our lift off was uneventful. Within minutes we were above the clouds and the wind had all but disappeared. The flight in the fixed wing was expected to be 45 minutes. After only about 15 minutes into the flight, dispatch called us to inform us that we would be returning with a second patient. This was a woman who had slipped on the ice in her driveway and had sustained a significant closed head injury. The seats for the air medical crew faced each other with our knees only about 12 inches apart. We discussed the patients and our plan and before we knew it we were beginning our descent into the Cape Breton airport.

It wasn't long after we started to descend that the turbulence started. I had certainly experienced turbulence before so I wasn't all that worried. As we continued our descent the turbulence became worse with much shorter intervals between each episode. Kevin and I shot looks at each other trying to get a sense of the other's level of concern. I could see the co-pilot from my vantage point and tried to glean what might be happening up there. He was all eyes in front and on the Christmas tree-like panel in front of him.

I found myself thinking, "I wish I couldn't see up front" when...Boom. It felt like the plane hit a brick wall. Kevin and I were now white-knuckled as our grips on the seats tightened. I could feel the pressure of the lap belt as the plane seemed to drop 100 feet and then ascend back to its original position all in less than a second. I was really beginning to question our safety at this point. Everything was happening so fast and was so violent. I felt my butt completely leave the seat and then slam back down. It was as if we were in an elevator that had gone haywire at supersonic speed. I knew this was bad. Kevin and I didn't speak. We just occasionally looked at each other between attempts to look out the window to get a sense of how close we were to the ground. Oh my God! Is that the tarmac in the window? It was. The plane was completely on its right side and near enough to the ground that I could see the details of the asphalt below. A split second after this information registered in my brain we were thrown in the opposite direction. My waist was now hurting from the seatbelt tearing at me. I couldn't help but notice the panic on my 6' 3", 250-pound, "little" brother's face. We had now rotated and the plane was now on its left side. I expected to be catapulted down the runway at any second. Instead, we shot back and forth from the right to left wheel of the rear landing gear. The 25-pound Life-Pak monitor interrupted my thoughts of pain, fear, and uncertainty as it flew by my head. The cargo netting had broken, allowing its contents to take flight. I found myself praying now, not something I did regularly but it seemed the right thing to do. The plane seemed to rock back and forth from side to side for what seemed an eternity.

Finally, it appeared that the pilot may have gained control. I saw the co-pilot, whose face was crimson, look at the pilot. Kevin and I still didn't speak. I could feel my heart in my throat as we taxied to the hangar where our ambulance sat waiting. They had seen the whole thing. Once we stopped the co-pilot turned to me and said, "Are you guys okay?" I pointed my finger at him and said, "Buddy, as soon as the feeling returns to my legs I am going to kiss your butt". Kevin's response was a little more colorful. It was then that I saw the paramedics out the window. They were running towards the plane. Kevin got up and opened the door and dropped the stairs. I seriously could not feel my legs. They came up the stairs and were out of breath. "Holy ___! We thought you guys were dead." They mimicked the plane with their hands to show us our approach. It was just as I had pictured. They had even called dispatch and told them we were probably going to crash. The pilot and co-pilot seemed to downplay the whole thing but we were their customers and I suppose they didn't want to give the impression that we had at any time been in jeopardy. They were lying like a rug. Kevin and I both knew that.

After several minutes of exchanging our experiences and thoughts over what had happened over the last several minutes, I was able to stand up and help transfer our gear to the ambulance. The plan was for us to return within the hour with both patients. Kevin and I sat in the back of the ambulance for the 20-minute ride to the hospital. I think it was after the 4th time that the paramedics turned around and recounted the landing with a few more "holy ____ "s that it all hit me. I started shaking and could feel tears running down my face. I realized that we had come very close to dying. I just sat with my head in my hands and shook. We pulled up to the hospital and I told Kevin I was going to the bathroom to try and get myself together

straight to the bathroom without saying a word. I closed the door and stood with my back against it. I was a little surprised at my reaction. Maybe it was the Dramamine. I wiped the tears again and opened the door. I found Kevin in a private room speaking with our manager who had been contacted by dispatch. I heard him say, "Darlene, we came as close to crashing as we could possibly come without actually crashing". That said it all. I spoke with her and told her there was no way, no how I was flying back to Halifax in that plane. She was very respectful and concerned for our safety. After discussing several possible scenarios I agreed to bring the head-injured patient back by ground ambulance and Kevin, feeling that the return flight couldn't possibly be worse than the first flight, agreed to come back in the plane with an off-duty paramedic and the MI patient. It was nearly 6 PM when we all left the ER.

The ambulance crawled back to Halifax in a blinding snowstorm but hey, I was on the ground and was in my eyes safe. We arrived at the ER in Halifax just after midnight and were met by my manager. It meant a lot to me that she was there and was supportive of my decision to return by ground. In the days that followed, I found myself reliving the incident and having to stop myself from thinking about what could have happened. The entire air medical crew were very empathetic and many of them shared their "not-so-perfect landing" stories with us.

The next time I had to fly in the fixed wing was a couple of months later. It was a flight to Yarmouth in a very impressive lightning storm. Once again I white-knuckled the chair for most of the flight. I had been feeling that maybe I wasn't really past what had happened in February in Cape Breton. What happened soon after solidified it for me. All air medical crew before being allowed to fly in the helicopter were required to obtain certification in a simulated crash exercise we called the "Dunker". It took place in a large swimming pool in a rig that simulated the inside of a helicopter. We all donned survival suits and sat in the simulator that was dropped into the pool and flipped upside down with the participants buckled in their seats. The object of the exercise was to complete the following sequence: once the simulator came to a complete stop upside down in the pool, smash out your window, remove your seatbelt and swim to the surface, which was 6 feet above your head. This process was completed 4 times with each subsequent time being more difficult, ie, the first time window is left out for you, second time you must smash out the window, third time is the same as the second time but in complete darkness, fourth time is the same as third time but with the added noise of a simulated crash and complete chaos. There is an unspoken rule amongst air medical crew that no one tells the newbies what to expect with the Dunker. Had I known what to expect I probably would have stayed home that day. Luckily the provincial air medical program only required one-time certification. However, I was also an employee for the offshore air medical program where we flew out to the oil rigs on an as-needed, emergency basis to retrieve trauma or acutely ill patients. This program required the crew to re-certify in the Dunker on a yearly basis. My re-certification came up in April after the incident in the fixed wing. I arrived at the pool and participated in the morning classroom didactic session and after lunch returned to the pool for the "Dunk". It wasn't until I sat in the simulator and the warning bell to announce dunking rang out loud that I realized I couldn't go ahead with it. The diver tried to talk me into it but I knew my heart was beating too fast to hold my breath for the required time. I left the pool without my re-certification. Up until this incident in the fixed wing happened I really felt invincible. I always thought someday I would try skydiving or bungee jumping but on this day at the pool, I realized I no longer needed that adrenaline rush that accompanied those activities. I handed in my pager for the offshore program that day. I continued to fly in the helicopter and occasionally on the fixed wing for the next year or so but I always had in the back of my mind the realization that bad things can happen when you least expect it. I made a decision to never unnecessarily put myself in the position of perhaps being taken away from my family again. I took advantage of the protocol of all team members having a voice with the decision to fly in adverse conditions and will always respect my employer for being allowed that choice. Bucket List....skydiving....delete.

The Day My Bucket List Changed

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