Sentience: The Weight of Intelligence.

      The more "Intelligent" a sentient being is the more likely they are to suffer in quality of life as a result of their own intelligence, relative to the beings around them. This is a point that I will argue and explore in this post. I have thought about this for many years now, connecting patterns of behaviors of those who were deemed to be intelligent and from first hand experience of those around me. I do not make this argument to doom the intelligent to any sort of fate but simply to perhaps explore the loneliness or detachment that population experiences in daily life. I will forewarn you that I consider my self to either be intelligent or very misguided. 

    Sentience is the ability to feel sensation and produce thought, however basic, from said sensation. Whether the sensation in physical like pain, cold, heat, etc. or an emotional sensation and be aware of it. By this modern definition there are animals who have been deemed sentient beings such as dogs as they have the ability to perceive physical and emotional sensation and give thought to the reaction rather than by instinctual reaction such as our fight/flight response. The philosophers of the 16th century would argue that sentience is rather the ability to reason. Sentience and sapience are often used interchangeably but sapience goes further than sentience in the regards that it includes the ability of self transcend based upon ones wisdom/experience. While a dog could, by definition, be considered a sentient being, some would argue that a dog is not sapient or wise, as dogs don't have the ability to empathize and explore anything beyond what they are. 

    Intelligence, by definition, is the ability to acquire and apply knowledge and skills. This definition separates the gathering of knowledge and it's use. After all, there are many students who finish a Bachelors degree but are not people you would consider intelligent. Testing intelligence is based upon the comparison of others and there is not one set scale or meter by which to measure intelligence. Even the smartest of primates doesn't compare to human beings and even the human beings of past millennia wouldn't compare to the minds of today. Intelligence is a moving target as we as a race combine to the common pool of knowledge and enlarge it's scope and mass every day.  I think that filtering knowledge  should also play a part in intelligence. With the sheer amount of data that one can find on the internet or even in a brick and mortar library, an individual seeking to gain knowledge and apply it for a specific purpose can easily spend more than a day were they blindly attempting to gain a specific piece of knowledge. After all, given enough time and motivation, an unintelligent individual could scour a library book by book, A to Z, to find a book that would say how many individual squares there are on a chessboard. An intelligent person would start by finding the pattern to the libraries organization and filter out each section and filtering out thousands of irrelevant books in a comparatively short amount of time. 

    Having defined and explored what it means to be an intelligent, sapient and sentient being one can begin to explore how those at the right end of the bell curve are affected by their own intelligence. For starters, while it may seem almost non-applicable in our new world of computers, but those who are intelligent are more prone to have sloppy or unaesthetic handwriting. This is because the thoughts and ideas forming in the mind are flowing at a faster rate than their hands can keep up with. With the advent of typing on a keyboard similar correlations may be found even with typing speeds of over 100 words per minute. While this is but a minor crutch, it does get rather annoying to have a natural flow of thought interrupted by the mechanical chokepoint of fingers. 

    On a much more serious note, there are higher rates of depression, anxiety and bi-polar disorder amongst the more intelligent. This is often related to the tendency to ruminate or analyze extensively. Whether it be what someone said you, how they acted differently or other things of similar nature, intelligent people tend to over think and become what is called "psychologically overexcited". This however could be explained away because intelligent individuals are more likely to recognize a problem with their mental well being and seek help. The access to help is probably more available to this population as well. 

     This line of thought brings me back to something I wrote about in a blog a few weeks ago about the tribes in Africa. My peer in the Army and I discussed how life back in the tribe was easy going and far less stressful albeit less intellectually stimulating. My friend told me it was a happier and simpler time. Perhaps those of intelligence could gain something from this perspective when they feel overwhelmed: Life is still essentially simple, there just isn't a need to analyze or ruminate on every single detail and possibility. There is also a time to slow down, and take a while to be blissfully ignorant like a camping trip or a quiet afternoon alone or with friends/family. 

ALC: Advanced Leader Course

     Here I am, back at Fort Sam Houston to attend a medical course. Not really medical, but a course on how to operate as a SSG and SFC as a medic in the Army. Seeing as I'm already a SSG and I have more years as a SGT than some of my peers have time in the Army total I'm a little upset to be here. My real learning experience on how to be a SSG happened a few years ago when I was still a SGT and was thrown to the wolves when I was tagged to be a platoon sergeant for 8 months. Platoon daddy's are usually SFC or a SSG if you're short a SFC but to be an E-5/SGT platoon daddy is just an act of desperation to have someone in charge. To add insult to injury I'm also going to be stuck on Fort Sam, unable to leave, because of restriction of movement order that limits me going home on the weekends. In fact, they are so COVID sensitive here on Fort Sam I can't even walk outside unless I have a mask on. 

    While I'm here though I'm attempting to make the best of my situation as usual. I managed to purchase a water rower right before coming here and lugged it up to the fifth floor of my hotel room. Thankfully I don't share a room with anyone! I'm also having a lot of trips down memory lane being here. I'll expand on that shortly. The first two weeks of class is going to be from 0730 to 1600 on microsoft teams. It sucks having to sit and listen to stuff I know already but I'm having fun with it by switching my backgrounds to star wars images of Hoth or inside the death star. I have even edited a background that has me in it, looking like I'm paying attention. I use this and block my camera with a sticky note so that they see only my background with what seems to be SSG Moore looking intently at the screen. I have done this to take several breaks already. I dare not use it for too long though, and remain vigilant for any auditory hint that I'm not actually giving my attention to the class. Thankfully my hotel has a decent view of San Antonio out of my window and the sun comes to greet me daily through it. The water rower has kept me sane these first two days. I enjoy it's sounds of rushing water and the feel of wood when I put it away. 

    The food situation is less than ideal however. I like to workout between 0630 and 0730. Then I like to shower, eat and prepare for the day which usually begins at 0900. Here my day starts at 0800 which greatly disrupts my routine and frustrates me to no end. The chow hall here is 3/4 mile away. Which is no problem to drive there but the chow halls are hit or miss as this post has all the medical trainees on it and they number in the thousands. So when a company of 100 soldiers marches to the chow hall doors, you may as well go find another one or buy a sandwich. Instead, I eat breakfast at the hotel, which is free and the quality reflects the price. Okay... it's not that bad but I usually eat more than a biscuit, bananas and a small serving of oatmeal for breakfast. It's free and only a short trip down the elevator away; great for those times when you've only got 5 minutes until class starts. 

    For dinner I attempted to drive to the chow hall but as I pulled up there was a company of trainees standing outside. They looked about 50 deep so I decided to drive around post for a little bit and wait it out. I just drove aimlessly for about 30 seconds until I realized I knew where I was. Sidewalks, buildings and streets looked familiar. I knew that I was nearing the training area from years ago when I was being taught the medic ways. Slowly but surely I drove right up to my old barracks. "Alpha Company, 232nd Medical Training Company" was printed on an all too familiar brown sign right outside the tan building that I spent a little more than 4 months in. I've spent longer time in other places but those 4 months dragged on there. I took a quick picture and sent it to my buddies from AIT to get some reactions out of them.  The reactions were mixed. Some were disgusted, and rightfully so, while another buddy of mine did some positive reminiscing with me for awhile in our back and forth. 

    I'm not sure what else I'll do to pass the time here but I'll try and replicate some healthier habits I formed at the recruiting school like daily workouts, walks, prayer time and of course talking with my family. I don't like being away from home, but I can't do anything about it. So for now, I just have to appreciate the small things like getting a piece of banana bread from the chow hall. Nice. 

An Army Story: CAMP BOLUS

     Camp Bolus. A place known to all combat medics of the modern era. A place of tears, sweat, blood, some more blood and the occasional laughter or sleep. After two months of studying to be an EMT and two more months of learning combat medicine the culminating event is a two week tour to Camp Bolus. This is the final graded criteria of combat medic training and can send you back to the beginning of the combat medicine stage if you don't pass. More importantly it's more of the suck. And some fun. I'll tell you a little bit about my time there. I have some very distinct memories.

    The exercise starts off with familiarization of the areas and brief after brief. The first few days are just training and getting told how we will be tested. The entire time we have a dummy rifle to hold on to and have to be accountable for it at all times. A favorite of the instructors is to find them in the porta-johns after you set it down to take a crap. There are challenges that get passed down from cycle to cycle. I participated in one such challenge: No showers the whole time. Not my best move but it was cold and showering in the field is a cumbersome task. The alternative is to baby wipe your self clean. Armpits, crotch, arms, legs, feet, face and even your hair. It takes about 10 wipes but that means a pack of 100 wipes lasts ten days. There is even a deeper level of the challenge where you only wear one uniform the entire time. I changed uniforms after the first week, so I almost got that one. 

    Part of Camp Bolus is that you rotate playing a casualty or the combat medic. It sucks being the casualty and I'll tell you why. Each casualty gets two things: a nasopharyngeal airway (NPA) and an I.V. in the arm. An NPA is basically a rubber hose that is inserted through your right nostril, shoved through the sinus passages and goes down the back of your throat. If you've never had an NPA before I want you to try sticking your pinky finger in your nose the next time you shower, and shove in until there is an immense amount of pressure. Now take your other index finger and stimulate your gag reflex. Now just stay like that for about an hour. On top of that, it's probably cold outside and you've got an IV in your arm that hurts because an 18 year old who just learned what a needle was rammed it into your arm. My friend, Kurt, was my medic once. He decided that I should be a special patient and get an IV in my basilic vein, which is not typical and it hurt, and he also decided I should get two NPA's. One for each nostril. I was strapped to a little, and wrapped in a space blanket so I couldn't do much to resist. It was cold so I laid there wrapped up for about a half an hour deciding on whether or not I would worm my way out. I did worm my way out and self treated my newly inflicted arm wound and massaged my nasal passages. I then got back under the space blanket for a quick nap until the instructors ended the exercise.

    On the final night/day it was an all nighter exercise. We just kept swapping in and out from being patients and medics. It was pretty exhausting and frustrating. It was also cold and wet. At about 0200 my friend Josh and I decided that we had enough and that we were going to wait it out as long as we could in the holding area where people took a break before going back at it. We huddled under a space blanket and hid our faces. We were leaned up against a concrete loading bay and facing east. I know this because when I popped my head up from under the space blanket the sun was rising directly in front of us. It was a sight that brought relief and happiness. Relief knowing that the last day was done and that we would clean up and go home that afternoon. I say happiness and not joy because happiness is fleeting and joy is a longer lived emotion. I was happy the sun was up but I was not happy with all the work ahead to get to my real bed back in the barracks complex. Regardless, I woke my pal up and we decided to act like we were role playing the whole time. 

    If you ever come across a young medic like myself, go ahead and ask him or her about their time at Camp Bolus. You'll see many different emotions come across their face and maybe even smile. You'll be sure to get at least a ten minute story!