Swimming to Antarctica_ Tales of a Long-Distance Swimmer - Lynne Cox [66]
Dr. Horvath begrudgingly relented, although he didn’t go along with the idea of gradually lowering the water temperature and doing daily studies. He told us he would give me a onetime deal only: the water temperature in the cold tank would be dropped to forty-two degrees, and he would let me swim while being supervised by his research team. A cardiologist and an internist would also be present in case we ran into any problems.
Brigette, the nurse at the Institute of Environmental Stress, led me to a tiny white cubicle and had me take off my sweat-suit jacket. Sitting down facing me, she picked up a piece of fine-grit sandpaper, leaned over, and began sanding my chest as if it were a coarse two-by-four. After rubbing two quarter-sized bright pink spots on my upper chest, she had me take off my swimsuit top so she could sand three more spots around my left breast. The skin there was very tender, and she quickly reached the nerves. I held tightly to the chair arm.
Brigette explained that she needed to sand the skin away to ensure good contact with the EKG leads. An accurate reading was critical. Based on normal responses of human beings, the experiment could put an enormous stress on my heart. No one was sure how I would respond, so the cardiologist present in the lab would be watching the EKG monitor throughout the test.
To prevent water from getting into the EKG circuitry and shorting out the system while I was in the water, Brigette attached twelve long wire leads to the electrodes and then covered the electrodes with airplane glue and a thin layer of plastic. Then she broke out a fresh piece of sandpaper and lightly sanded my big toes, fingertips, and a couple of spots on my forehead. To these areas she attached thermocouples that held the electrodes on my skin; the electrodes would measure my skin temperature during the experiment. Using waterproof tape, she taped more leads to my big toes, fingers, and forehead. By the time she finished I looked like Medusa.
She collected the leads, held them while I pulled up my suit, and then draped them over my right shoulder. She gathered the thermocouple wires and let them rest in a pile on the floor. Just before we left the cubicle she handed me a tube of K-Y Jelly and a lead that was at least twenty feet long. She explained that the lead was called a rectal probe; it was a thermometer that would measure my core temperature during the experiment. I needed to insert it so they could get the necessary readings. She left me standing there with the jelly in one hand and the twenty-foot-long probe in the other. I was completely baffled. The whole thing? I wondered. Too embarrassed to ask, I stood there wondering what I should do. Thankfully, Anne Loucks came by to check on me and explained that all I needed to insert was four inches; then the lead would be taped to my upper thigh so it wouldn’t slide out during the test.
Once we secured the probe, Anne untangled the leads and held on to the cluster of EKG leads with one hand and the thermocouples with the other. Following her into the lab, filing past the researchers and lab assistants, I felt very self-conscious, especially with a twenty-foot-long tail wagging behind me.
When we entered the cold-tank area, it looked like NASA’s mission control. Dr. Drinkwater, Dr. McCafferty, Dr. Horvath, and two other physiologists, as well as Dr. Reyburn, an internist, and Dr. Borjia, a cardiologist, were standing around the tank, all wearing