Space Station Maneuver

{ |< } { < Prev } { Next > } { >| }

Yesterday the order came in to secure all the lab equipment within the space station because of a standard avoidance activity to get away from the path of space debris. We had to fire the minor thrusters to change our orbit to a different orbital attitude. This wasn't an unusual manuevuer since avoidance was practiced every time debris was calculated to come within 20 miles of our station and this occurred every month or two. We had spent six hours yesterday tying down all of our our equipment so it wouldn't fly out of control from the change in acceleration caused by the force of the thrusters. Such is life aboard a space station in Low Earth Orbit.

But then, disaster struck as it often does when one let's their guard down. The new attitude was directly into a larger debris field and we had less than twenty minutes to attempt countermeasures. Suffice it to say, I was managing a setting in an auxilliary module when catastrophe struck and a piece of debris ripped a hole in our station. The mission computer responded by immediately isolating the impacted module (where I was) from the station control module where the rest of the crew and the Environmental Control and Life Support System (ECLSS) was located.

We don't specifically have plans in place when stuff like this happens, but it's not unplanned for either. At the back of my head I knew I had 9 minutes to dress myself in a space suit before my body would cease normal functions (a euphamism the mission engineers used to describe the way the vaccum of space will poison and kill somebody). This was followed by a short and terrifying period of radio silence before I got in contact with the rest of the station crew. They were a bit shaken, but otherwise alright.

My immediate goal at that point became an extra-vehicular activity (EVA) and climbing across the outside of the station to rejoin the rest of the crew at one of the servicable docking bays. The slow and arduous task of exitting the station and finding a safe path across it was nerve-racking. Without one of the jet-powered suits, it was critical that I remain in contact with the outside wall of the station at all times or I'd force my crewmates to execute an emergency rescue mission with the aforementioned jet-powered suit (something that has never been done before).

The EVA took a full four hours, enough time for me to fly over my home in Eastern Texas three times. Several times I had communicated things that I wanted my crewmates to tell my husband and two daughters if things didn't turn out good. But in the end their assurances that everything would be okay were correct and at 7:27am GMT I re-enterred our space station safely as I thanked God to be safe.

At this point, my nerves have calmed significantly and I've had a chance to video-conference with my family. However, the auxilary module is still sealed off and at this time mission control is working overtime to figure out if there's going to be a way for us to make the necessary repairs without launching a special purpose mission to send up replacement components (though currently all evidence points to the need for a specialized mission). In the meantime, research continues on the station and I'm very much looking forward to my return trip to Earth so I can hug and kiss my husband again. This near-calamity has been too much for me to bear.

Original photograph from NASA: March 23, 2009 Extravehicular Activity (EVA). The mission was to relocate the Crew Equipment Translation Aid (CETA) cart from the Port 1 to Starboard 1 truss segment. Astronaut Richard Arnold, STS-119 mission specialist, is shown participating in the mission's third scheduled session of EVA as construction and maintenance continue on the International Space Station.

{ |< } { < Prev } { Next > } { >| }