Skip to main content

A Recent Adventure

Love is a crazy thing. But I love it.

It has not only made me who I am today, but it works in my life everyday to teach me new things, shower me with new experiences, and grow emotionally stronger with my best friend. 

And in the spirit of love, and the whole reason I started this blog - adventures - I will share with you my new found appreciation for the wind in my hair and having a dude I just met strapped uncomfortably close on my back. 



So basically, Chris decided, on a whim a few months ago, to purchase a Groupon, no wait...it was 2 Groupons...for him and his brother to skydive shortly before our wedding. It was one of those, "April, this is something I have always wanted to do" things. Without much of a second thought I said, "Go for it!" and proceeded to forget the date said skydive was to take place. I was reminded about a week before the adventure during a wedding task list discussion about the skydive plan. "Cool," I said, "Hope it's fun!"

Blah, blah, blah...I'm sure you can imagine where this is going...

So the bottom line up front (or middle, rather): Chris's brother called him at 0630 the morning of the skydive. He was in Birmingham still and the appointment was in Chattanooga at 0900. Obviously he wasn't going to make it, and Chris was pretty upset. So, at approximately 0631, I proved my unconditional love for this man. "Hold on, I'll go with you." In the back of my mind, I was thinking, "Well, I will ride along and see how I feel." Chris's friend Spencer showed up (he bought the same Groupon) and we were on our way. Was I entirely awake? No. Did I think to call my family and tell them what I was about to do? Yes. Did I actually call them? No. Did I think about actually doing the whole skydive thing the entire way to Chattanooga (1.5 hour drive)? Not a chance. 

But as it turns out, I quickly filled out the paperwork, told my tandem buddy about the whole Type 1 Diabetes thing, and the next thing I knew I was strapped into a harness in the back of a stripped out Cessna 172 with a somewhat questionable pilot (his name was "Enrique" and he was joking in a thick Hispanic accent about getting his pilot's license online the night before). 

But, what the heck, I was doing it for Chris, right?

After the excruciatingly long ride up to 10,000 ft (crappy old Cessna, remember?), we opened the door and before I knew it, Chris was out the door. Holy crap. I guess I'm really doing this. And the next thing I knew I was crouched on a small platform (think 2x4) outside of this dinky airplane with a dude strapped to my back yelling something I couldn't understand in my ear, although it was probably mentioned in our 5 minutes of "training". 

And that was it.

I was falling at 130 miles per hour straight down. 





And it was completely worth every ounce of fear and reservation, it was the most free feeling I have ever felt. 

I guess my dad is right, sometimes you just have to scare the hell out of yourself to make sure you are still alive. 

I love you Chris, thank you for pushing me to go beyond my self-imposed limits. 


Oh, and by the way...I decided to call my family after I was safely on the ground, I figured not much point having them worry. They were, from what I could tell, slightly shocked. 

Comments

  1. thanks for not killing me! ahahahaha. AWESOME!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Awesome!

    I've been skydiving too. I think since I live 3000 miles away from my family it didn't even occur to me to tell them what I was doing before I jumped. They were slightly shocked after!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I totally missed this post earlier. Wow, April. I want to do this so badly. LOL. I'm so happy you did it!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Who has two thumbs and loves comments? Nerdy April!!! Type one out and hit publish!

Popular posts from this blog

The road to curing Type 1 Diabetes

From the moment of diagnosis, the road is rough, the learning curve is steep and the stakes are literally life or death. The map is less-than-helpful - paths originating from virtually every corner, coalescing at a center point (aka "diagnosis") and bursting back outwards - some paths cross and wrap around each other but others are isolated. And even with all of these roads, most of the territory is uncharted - how did we all get here and how will we all exit? Where are the obstacles we haven't found yet? Which passage holds the key to unlocking the solution?

On any given day I feel pretty isolated with this disease - I'm the only T1D in my group at work, the only one in mission control, the only one in my family. I go through the logistics of calling insurance companies, ordering supplies, changing sites and troubleshooting malfunctions mostly on my own. Even those pesky carbs really only get counted in my brain, no group think for a meal bolus here. But there is b…

On 20 years with Type 1 Diabetes

I think it's finally time to hit 'publish' on this post, considering it's been sitting here for, oh you know, like 2 weeks now ;-) Sometimes I "April" about things too much (this is Chris's term), and with my dad here for Christmas I realized that it's definitely a trait passed down, haha, love you dad!


To be honest, I never thought the day would come when I would say, "I've had Type 1 Diabetes for 20 years."

20 years ago a cure was 'just on the horizon' and as an 11 year old kid I took that phrase to heart - I had to. My continued existence was based solely on whatever the endocrinologist said - pancreas, insulin, autoimmune, blood sugar, islet cells, shots. I didn't know what I didn't know at that point. I had never heard of an insulin pump or glucose meter. Ketones and hyperglycemia were just big, meaningless words. Carb ratios and counting might as well have been formulas for travelling at light speed. I wasn't ov…

Type 1 Diabetes - IT life.

Nine years ago (9 years ago?!), I was still waiting for the black-box-doctors at the FAA to clear my Class III medical certificate - a requirement for my then-job flying on experimental Army helicopters. To 'pump' up my diabetes-dejected ego (ha), Dave let me tag along with him for his MH-47G proficiency simulator runs. That tiny taste into helicopter flight dynamics gave me so much appreciation for him - hovering is literally the.hardest.thing, I was tense the entire time and constantly felt like I was one small cyclic movement away from losing control. Even though I knew in the back of my mind we were in a (moving) simulator, my senses got lost in the weight of the flight controls, the movement on the screens, and the hard thumps when I hovered right into the ground.

At the end of the runs I asked him how he has the stamina to pilot this monster of a helicopter for literally 15 hours straight (these special ops versions can mid-air refuel). He sort of laughed, but his answer…
01 09 10