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Sixteen Squared · Jan 20, 12:46 AM

16 times 16 is 160 plus 60 plus 36, which totals to 220 plus 36, which is 256. Of course.

I’m on my back, going through the squares. 1, 4, 9, 16, 25, … the first ten are easy. I broke the teens down into triple sums just like I did 16 above. In hindsight, the formula is N*10 + (N-10)*10 + (N-10)^2, but at the time, it was reassuring to know I had my wits about me enough to do simple arithmetic. I made it all the way to 24 before I gave up and reverted to watching the other people training.

Half an hour previously, we had been working on something that easily turned into a choke, and Dan was demonstrating for the new guy. I was the crash test dummy, and we ended up on the ground, with Dan showing how to work a crucifix-like submission; I was taking light chokes and blows to the head. After we got up, we were about to move on, but Dan caught me.

“Tom, are you all right?”

“I sshttnk sso.”

That’s what actually came out—I had been trying for “I think so.” Slowly, like when you’re drunk, I realized how slurred my speech was, and a flashback hit. Adam and I had just descended from a freezing summit of Mount Katahdin in Baxter State Park, marking the end our our Appalachian Trail hikes. The freezing rain cut our big emotional moment short, and we stupidly took the quick way down, which involved scrambling three thousand feet down an open, loose rock slide. We ended up on the wrong side of the park, but the ranger offered to take us into town. The only catch was that I had to stay in the back. The ride into town was about fifteen minutes long. Because it was only lightly sprinkling, I had removed my rain gear, and was exposed to the cold wind and rain for the whole ride. We were dropped off at the hotel to be met by Adam’s parents; I knew I was cold, but my worlds came out slurred, and my gross motor coordination was off. They put me into a hot shower, and I stayed in for maybe fifteen minutes. When I came out, my head was clear.

That was as close as I have been to hypothermia, and it’s what flashed through my mind as I tried to answer Dan. My journal entry from that day is here.

“Waytahminnt” (that’s how “wait a minute” came out)

And now I’m realizing that brain not work good. Dan sits me down, elevates my feet, and treats me for mild shock, including the proper assessment to determine if anyone needs to go the hospital.

So I’m laying on my back, working hard to square the integers; it’s an activity that requires basic cognition and short term memory, but not motor or speech skills, and being able to do it is reassuring. 24^2 is 576, you know.

It was over an hour before I was willing to believe the shock had cleared up. If you’ve been there, you may know what the symptoms feel like. The cold sweat wasn’t disturbing, but the strange constant feeling of being about to break down in tears is, and it gets in the way of speech. It laster for at least half an hour.

Anyhow, barring a concussion, I’m recovered.

[Updated: One of the witnesses said my speech wasn’t nearly as incoherent as I remember it. huh.]

* * *

  1. Ouch!!!!!!!!

    — LAGBolt    Jan 24, 11:25 AM    #

  2. And did you volunteer to be crash test dummy?

    — Dad    Jan 24, 04:15 PM    #

  3. Dad: Yes, it was voluntary, and if I had tapped out, that would have been respected.

    — Tom    Jan 26, 02:09 AM    #

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