Hypoxia is a funny thing. It creeps onto the scene, makes you giddy, and turns a friendly game of patty cake into a violent competition. As soon as the air returns, the tingling disappears. So it was a few days ago, when the Navy deliberately deprived me of oxygen. They train us to recognize the signs of the dangerous condition, responsible for several Navy accidents and the death of Payne Stewart and friends in an aircraft that slowly leaked oxygen until all crew and passengers went unconscious. It's a debilitating kind of thing, and good for us to understand.
They took us up to 25,000 feet in altitude (simulated), where the air is rare. We removed our oxygen masks, and tried to do simple tasks: patty cake, counting cards, naming colors on a color wheel. After a few minutes, these things became all-consuming, and some folks couldn't follow instructions. A few blacked out, missing about 30 seconds of the time when they were most hypoxic. Me, I became a combat patty-caker.
After a huge build-up in my mind over the days leading up to the event, it went by easily. Another day when I think..."I'm getting paid for this?"
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