Hello everyone:
I learned to swim while almost drowning. Let me explain what happened.
I went to summer camp with an organization that promoted girls. It shall remain unnamed to protect the guilty. (It should be noted that my idea of “roughing it” is the Hilton Garden Inn, not a camp that has a two-seater outhouse for 50 girls, no electricity in the cabins, and mattresses that were two inches thick and that threatened to suffocate the person unfortunate enough to lay down on it. It curled up and attacked. But I digress.)
On the first day of camp, we put on our bathing suits and walked down to the lake through unmowed weeds that were almost as tall as we were (Okay, I admit to a slight exaggeration there!). When we arrived, we were told to wave our arms, one over the other, pretending we were swimming the breaststroke. I think it was the breaststroke. I didn’t know how to swim, so what did I know? After a few minutes, we were allowed to get in the water and play.
The next day, they took us to the lake and had us enter the shallow part of the water (it was up to our knees) and hold onto a pipe that was perpendicular to the shore. The pipe was at water level and attached to the dock, which was L-shaped. They told us to kick our feet. We did so for a few minutes. We were then allowed to play.
The next day, they took us out to the end of the dock, which protruded about fifty feet into the water, which was about ten feet deep there. They told us to jump in and swim to shore. I turned to the camp counselor and said, “But I don’t know how to swim.” She said, “Did you move your arms like this (and she showed me).” I said, “yes.” “Did you kick your feet yesterday?” “Yes,” I replied, with fear and trepidation. Despite my naivete, I could still see where this was going. “Then you know how to swim. Jump in or we’ll push you. If you jump in on your own, then you’ll have time to take a breath. If we push you in, then you won’t know when it’s coming. Don’t worry. If you start to drown, we’ll get you.” She lied.
I made the executive decision to jump in on my own. I swallowed a whole lot of the lake that day, but I made it to the shore. That was done! Now they would leave me alone, right? Wrong.
The next day, we were taken out into the middle of the lake via a canoe, with two counselors accompanying one camper. When we got to the middle of the lake, they said, “Jump in and swim to shore.” “But I don’t know how to swim.” Did you drown yesterday?” “No.” “then you know how to swim. If you don’t jump in yourself, we’ll flip the canoe, and you might get trapped underneath. We won’t come get you. You’ll drown. And you might end up swimming the wrong direction, if you do manage to get out from underneath the boat. You’ll still have to swim to that shore over there.” They pointed.
I made the decision to get in the water, but I was not going to let go of the canoe until they told me they were going to hit my hands with the oars. I finally let go, hands intact and headed towards the shore. My foot hit something in the water! What was that????? I was launched. I made it back to shore in record time.
To this day, I do not like swimming in water over my head, in water that is dark and murky, or with unseen fish. But the good news is I do know how to swim.
Best,
Dr. Sheri