It Might Get Messy

North Africa, early 1940s. The first extended engagements of World War Two were a technology testing ground (the German decimation of Europe in a matter of weeks the previous years really only proved that a well-funded and updated war machine trumped outdated armaments and desultory and inadequate commitment of men and materiel [nifty word, “materiel”]). The 1930s had barely seen the transition from multi-winged World War One aircraft to modern single wing designs. Tanks and other armored vehicles remained light-weight, under-armored, under-gunned machines intended to support infantry under the war doctrines of the day. In the Spanish Civil War, remarkably, only the Germans and Soviets took the opportunity to test weapons, tactics, and strategy. Other players plodded along by the numbers, investing as little capital, financial, technological or intellectual, as possible.

So North Africa, where an odd pastiche of French (both collaborationist and free), Italian, German, British and indigenous forces danced over a mosaic landscape worthy of a “Risk” game board, became the first major technology assessment laboratory for the tools of war. 

Of course, local quirks of the harsh environment dictated peculiarly specific fixes to problems that were less-than-general. Air filtration, for example. When I was in Jordan, one day we had driven deep into the eastern desert to visit an endangered species recovery facility. We got caught in a relatively minor sand storm that lasted about 45 minutes and required us to sit tight while it blew through, visibility dropping to zero. We buttoned the car up tight. But, with all windows and vents fully closed, a substantive quantity of super-fine sand accumulated inside anyway. It was so fine and thick it threatened computers, cameras, and cell phones. In the 1940s, such grit played hell with high-performance aircraft and vehicle engines designed primarily for the moist, clean air of northern Europe.

First victim was an Italian heavy fighter plane, the Breda “Lynx”. Its twin engines required a retrofit of air filters. As soon as the filters were in place, the plane’s performance fell to the point where it became a joke [1]. A short-term joke, as the entire stock of Lynxes was shot to hell in one fell swoop early in the conflict.

Even with filters in place, tank engines had to be changed out after 3500 kilometers of driving. In northern Europe, engines lasted 7500 kilometers [2]. Dust also had inordinate effects on radio hardware. It was difficult to maintain group cohesion with radios weakened, damaged, and destroyed throughout the active formations.

And just what the hell, I hear you inquiring, does this discussion of atmospheric dust have to do with cancer? 

Turns out that it has considerable relevance. For a long time, after I got out of the hospital, I was in the habit of using odd little barrel-shaped air filters on the sticky-outy end of my tracheostomy hardware at night. For some reason, over the past few months, I got out of the habit. I didn’t make any connection between this hardware hiatus and the increased levels of discomfort I’ve been feeling lately. 

In preparation for two weeks on the Outer Banks (which I, unable as I am to safely swim or even wade very deep in surf, intend to spend in intensive pursuit of reptiles, nature photography, and preparing dynamite dinners for our multi-family household), we ordered up a box of air filters (because having blowing sand blast directly into my bronchi seems like a guaranteed recipe for post-vacation inflammatory pneumonia). I started using them again at night. And it turns out, I feel a hell of a lot better during the day when I do so. The filters keep my oral cavity and throat moist, which results in thinner, less sticky and frustrating, mucous production. The filters also reduce the volume of mucous. I am uncertain why they have this property. I suspect it is because the warmer, moister throat environment feels more “natural” to the mucous membranes lining its surfaces. Absent the dryness and irritation, my salivary and mucous glands don’t feel the imperative to pump out goo to cover the inflamed areas. Leaving me much, much more comfortable.

Most nights for the past month or so, I’ve been awakened at least half a dozen times per in a claustrophobic panic, short of breath, having to rip out the removable inner tube of the trach system, take it to the sink, and flush out the accumulated sticky mess with hot water. This takes some time, and requires me to turn on the light in the bathroom. Which means that I’m not getting much rest overnight, having to deal every hour or hour-and-a-half with hardware maintenance. Last night, for the first time in a long time, I got through the entire night being awakened only twice. Felt really good. 

So I’m back on the air filters, big time. This, coupled with an increased calorie intake, has me feeling a bit better than I have been. Not great, mind you. But definitely better. 

It’s not much, but it’s something. I’ll certainly take it. I am really getting psyched for the upcoming beach trip. For one thing, there will be the warmth that comes from spending time with 50 or so old friends, including a couple of ex pats from the Antipodes in a rare appearance. But, as pointed out above, there will also be the opportunity to spend long hours pursuing reptiles, including some, like the Outer Banks king snake and the speedy legless lizards, that I haven’t seen in decades. And more hours every day devising ever-tastier dinners appropriate for the seasonal abundance of delicious food products in the coastal South. 

So, despite continued weakness, pain, and discomfort, I’m feeling pretty good about things at the moment. Just have to remember to count my pills carefully to make sure I’ll have enough to get me through the beach fortnight. 

Rock and roll, everybody. Summer’s here, and the time is right for enjoying life. Live ‘em while you got ‘em. My love and gratitude to all of you. Hope your summer is shaping up to be a good one.

Notes

[1] http://listverse.com/2011/04/04/top-10-worst-aircraft-of-world-war-2/

[2] http://usacac.army.mil/cac2/cgsc/carl/download/csipubs/toppe.pdf