In reply to Exile:
Not as serious a situation, but I once had a similar experience. The first and only time I went pot-holing was fascinating, challenging (I have mild claustrophobia) and er, 'invigorating'. Half way through the route, I got left behind. The bag holding my battery came to bits and I stopped to repair it. When I looked up, everyone had gone. Properly gone - no sight or sound of them and I didn't know which way they'd gone. It's hard to judge how long it took me to hook up with the guys again. Probably five minutes, but it felt like half an hour. This wasn't the harrowing bit, but it served as background to it. The harrowing bit was a letterbox crawl near the end of the route through a horizontal gap about two feet deep and twenty feet long. That's when the claustrophobia kicked in good and LOUD. I had to tell it to STFU because I was busy and I'd pay attention later. Got through as cool as you like. And every night for the next three nights, I woke up bolt upright in bed, drenched in a cold cold sweat and scared to death