Nitrogen

On the morning of the 14th, the 6th anniversary of a previous attempt, I tried the nitrogen. It didn't work...at least not in the way I planned. But it, and the LSD the day before, relieved some of the tension and by the following evening, yesterday, when this photo was taken, we were at dinner and I was enjoying myself again.

Ramblin' Jack Elliott

Old Blue

For those who may be considering...setup was relatively easy (link is to a pdf), but the experience itself entailed some problems. To be sure...you'll need an adjustable wrench or one of the proper size to attach the regulator to the tank and an allen wrench to adjust the regulator from its factory setting of 100psi down to the suggested 12 psi.

Also, EXIT International cautions about structural changes that frequently occur in the face that can result in leakage. I was fortunate to find (on craigslist) a high-quality C-Pap mask with a silicone rim that I felt would be trustworthy. The mask was vented and I taped the vent closed. That made  breathing a little difficult and I had to lift the lower part a couple of times to get enough air. This too was, in the first phase, a bit exasperating as I expected the nitrogen to work more quickly than it did.

Also during the first phase I experienced some angina. I had a heart attack the first week of March and as the oxygen in my blood decreased, the pain in my chest increased. Expecting to soon lose consciousness, I withstood the pain for a while, but when, after about ten minutes I was still awake, I stopped the process and took some nitroglycerin. This quelled the angina after which, with increased enthusiasm, I climbed back into the mask.

(Note to those with arthritis or other debilitations: the mask has bands that go around the base of the scull and the back of the head and take a bit of wrangling.)

Round Two: I was now relaxed (a side affect of the nitrogen) and pleased to realize all anxiety had dissipated. I got comfortable and settled in for the final go. After about 15 minutes, still conscious, I realized that, and this is the hilarious part, my mindset had changed. I was now both angry at it having taken so long and -- apparently a side-affect of nitrogen -- simultaneously in a more positive frame of mind; I decided to hold off. I shut off the valves, one on the tank and a secondary on the regulator, and lay back to think. It took about two hours for my (alleged) mind to clear.

I recalled my favorite therapist telling me once that the sign of maturity was an individual's ability to tolerate ambivalence. I laughed aloud as I lay there, like a pig in a waller (of ambivalence) and thought, "Maybe some acid would help?" It did; it churned the milk and turned in into butter. I made some toast to go with it and, once again, decided to see what the morrow brings. Blue's a patient dawg.

Further!

Below is lifted from a website about piloting planes and the use of oxygen to stave off hypoxia. I thought you might find interesting the description of euphoria that accompanies hypoxia. When I tried it, I had none of the symptoms below other than the euphoria.

The common symptoms of hypoxia include increased breathing rate, dizziness, headache, sweating, reduced peripheral vision, and fatigue, but the most insidious symptom is a feeling of euphoria. Pilots suffering from hypoxia often experience a false sense of security rather than a sense of the danger inherent to this condition.

Hypoxia also impairs night vision. Because the rod cells in the eye, which give us night vision, require a lot of oxygen, a lack of oxygen causes visual impairment.

For pilots, hypoxia's adverse effects are described in terms of time of useful consciousness (TUC) and effective performance time (EPT).

TUC is a measure of your ability to function in a meaningful way. In other words, it's a kind of threshold on the pathway to becoming, first, something like a drooling fool, and second, unconscious and certifiably out of it.

EPT is defined as the time from the loss of significant oxygen to the time when you are no longer able to perform tasks in a safe and efficient manner. This is a dangerous condition, because hypoxia's onset is subtle. Pilots may think they're doing just fine — and in fact, may well have things under control — even though their EPT is dwindling away, and the countdown clock to unconsciousness is surely running. This false sense of well-being is, in itself, a symptom of hypoxia. But usually, at this point the pilot doesn't care.

People are not the same. Even though we've just been talking in terms of EPT and TUC guidelines, it's time for a reminder: Not all pilots have the same EPT or TUC. If you're a smoker, under a great deal of stress, or don’t exercise regularly to increase your heart rate, your EPT and TUC will be considerably shorter than the published guidelines. A pack-a-day cigarette smoker is physiologically hypoxic at sea level. The smoker's lungs are so damaged that they're incapable of absorbing as much oxygen as those of a nonsmoker, so at sea level, the smoker's blood-oxygen concentrations are already at the 7,000-foot level.

For this reason, smokers and those with more sedentary lifestyles lose consciousness faster at altitude than the smoke-free and fit, and they should begin using oxygen at altitudes lower than required by the regulations. Other day-to-day factors such as nutrition, alcohol use, and quality and amount of sleep can also affect your oxygen requirements. There's even evidence that poor air quality can lower your blood oxygen saturation level. Maybe that's why "oxygen bars" are seen in high pollution metropolitan areas like Los Angeles, Mexico City, Tokyo.

Doctors and hospital staff want to see your blood oxygen saturation level at 96 to 98 percent. That's considered normal. You can measure O2 saturation with a relatively inexpensive pulse oximeter that clips over your finger tip. A 100-percent level is as good as it gets, and 95 percent is considered a minimum. An oxygen saturation level below 90 percent is a warning sign. That's when patients — and pilots — begin to experience hypoxia.