Deep end here I come

Interesting day at swimming yesterday. And yes, I still swim most Sundays, but it is not always eventful.

As I got there, one of my classmates was climbing down a ladder into the pool. This doesn't seem that astounding, I realize, but the guy normally walks down the ramp. He uses a cane and has an orthotic device on one foot. So really, this was pretty bad ass.

I asked the teacher after class when she would let me climb down the ladder, instead of using a ramp and wheelchair. Her response? Next week. She then said, "You don't scare me buddy." I suspect she thought she was calling my bluff, but I am ready for the ladder.

She continued: If you get that breathing thing squared away, we'll take you to the deep end and let you dive in. I've seen guys jump in from there power chairs.

How cool would it be to wheel up to the 12-foot deep end and dive in, leaving your chair behind?

My breathing is not up for that yet, but I have noticed lately that when I put my head under, I no longer get water in my nose. Instead, I subconsciously have started to blow out through my nose and make little bubbles, keeping the water out.

Unfortunately, this has another effect. I was swimming on my own mostly, not even the fat suit, and I made it two-thirds of the way down the pool. Then the teacher, who was walking next to us on the pool's edge, said something, and the volunteer, who usually stays behind my head, came up next to me and said, I can't tell. The teacher turned and said, I'll get a towel.

The volunteer said I had a bloody nose. I never have bloody noses.

The teacher came back with a rubber glove, tissues and paper towels. I was standing there holding the wall. She put the tissue on my nose and when she pulled it away, we saw it was a booger not blood. (I horrified my niece when I told this story last night.)

How'll I blow my nose if I am in the deep end of the pool?