What a skydiving injury teaches you about support, patience, and getting back in the plane.
The potential for Injury is baked into just about every risk we account for in skydiving. Always in the background, and hopefully something we do our best to mitigate through good planning and decision making. That said, they can still happen, and when they do, they bring some unexpected perspectives and lessons.
To clarify, my injury was enough to put me on the sidelines for a good handful of weeks, but in no way equates to the more catastrophic injuries some of us have witnessed or even experienced. Although my story is small by comparison, I hope the lessons learned can apply to anyone who finds themselves in a similar situation.
My oopsie woopsie and the pain that followed initially seemed underwhelming. Something to be thankful for, of course, but what I didn’t expect was the shock when it came to lifestyle change. It’s challenging, seeing yourself as a relatively capable person, especially physically, and then feeling like that has been “taken away” from you abruptly. I don’t think there’s a way to fully prepare for being totally self-sufficient one day, only to need help with just about everything… up to and including stepping in and out of the shower the next.
The Support System You Didn’t Know You Had
A sliver lining here, especially in the early stages, is getting to see your support system in action. The amount of people who not only reached out, but also played an active role in getting me the support I needed was incredible. Heartwarming is an understatement. To those of you who helped, you know who you are, and I’ll never forget it.
If there’s one major positive in anything bad that happens to us, it’s that it gives your friends and loved ones a chance, a real chance to show you how far they’re willing to go for you. Moments like these almost make getting injured feel worth it.
Keep Small Goals
Another huge lesson learned: keep goals small. Unless you’re superhuman, the chances of you getting “back to normal” on a timeline that meets your desires are unlikely. Here’s an example, instead of thinking “Man it’s gonna be MONTHS before I can even walk right, let alone jump again” you can focus on “Dude I stood up today. It was in a boot, and it was only for a minute or two, but that’s so much better than it was yesterday. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.”
This type of thinking not only makes healing way more positive, I also believe it makes it feel like it’s passing by much faster. Looking back now, the first few days felt like they’d never end, and then suddenly 10 weeks went by in the blink of an eye. It’s important to understand that there are ebbs and flows in this process. Just because I’m saying focus on the positive, doesn’t mean I didn’t have days where I felt downright depressed. I’m far from an authority figure on mental health, but if anyone reading this has the misfortune of knowing what I’m talking about, I hope you can take some solace in knowing you’re not the only one who has gotten depressed through recovery. I can say for me personally, keeping the focus and goals small, then patiently expanding to the bigger picture is what kept me in the right headspace the vast majority of the time.
What comes next is a balancing act I’m not sure I completely got the hang of. Supporting your friends and staying up to date with what’s happening in the sport, but also doing what you can to take some time off without feeling guilty. For those of us who have worked full-time in skydiving, we know how much of a grind (albeit a fun and rewarding one) it can feel like day to day. So getting “off the ride” suddenly requires some adjustments. Bottom line, you get to take as much time as you need for yourself, so checking in on what’s happening in the community is super healthy until it’s not. I think some FOMO is normal and can even aid in keeping a purpose through recovery, but finding that line is critical and will likely look different for everyone.
Photo by Felix Wetterberg
Taking Control of the Comeback
Another key takeaway: don’t forget that you’re still in the driver’s seat. A loss of control in these situations is, on some level inevitable, but always remember that you can and should play a massive role in getting back to “normal.” To be clear, I am by no means saying that you shouldn’t follow whatever guidelines have been set by your Doctors, PT, or any other professional that’s a part of your recovery team. What I am saying is that it’s essential to remember you’re still in the driver’s seat with you yourself as an active contributor, not a passenger. What this meant for me was religiously following my PT program (probably to the point of obsession), knowing when to push the affected area, when to back off, and when it was time to stop ‘babying’ it and start ‘training’ it. This milestone felt like a big one.
What comes next is tricky. Knowing when to get back to flying. Just because you’ve put in the weeks of PT and whatever else was necessary, it doesn’t mean hitting as hard as you can (or want to after waiting so long) is the best course of action. My timelines were aggressive. I’d like to think I did everything I could to recover right and fast. There were very few things I’d change about my process. I say all this to say I was STILL nervous in the airplane on my first jump back because I now had firsthand knowledge of what the other side of an injury looks and feels like. I’d like to think this is normal. What helped me quiet those thoughts was knowing that I truly did do everything I could, and the decision to slowly start getting back at it was a calculated one. I felt I had mitigated the risks to the best of my ability.
Looking Back
As strange as it sounds, I’m grateful to have had this experience. Perhaps it doesn’t sound right to say I’m grateful for something like this, but I am. It showed me how far my friends and family were willing to go for me, and proved that I’m more than just what I can do physically.
Lessons can be taken from anything. The big ones here are to recognize and cherish your support systems, keep goals small but consistent, understand that you’re probably not the only person on Earth that’s ever felt “this way”, know when to stop babying and start training, getting back to flying should be a calculated decision, and you are NOT your injury.
