Hash

HASH CARL A. DRAGSTEDT* My dictionary gives two definitions for "hash." The first refers to the item which is an unlamented reminder ofa boarding-house menu. The second says hash is a new mixture ofold matter—a second preparation or exhibition. It is in this latter sense that I use the term. Onprevious occasions Ihave related some biographical items incidental to the thesis ofa particular paper. This was not done in a straightforward manner, but was intrudedhere and there as occasion permitted. I amagain going to annoy you with some biographical anecdotes, but there is no little pretense at any story with a theme to it. There is a widely held beliefthat ifone is conscious during a time of greatperil, andparticularly ifdeathseemsto be impending,therewillflash before the mind's eye a kaleidoscopic review ofmany ofthe major events ofone'slife. Iamaconverttothisview, althoughas maybediscernedfrom the frivolous nature ofsome ofthe following tales, I would not insist that the word "major" is appropriate. Some years ago I was "spread-eagled" on my back upon a hospital bed. There was a salt-and-sugar infusion going into one ofmy leg veins. There was a blood transfusion going into the vein ofmy right arm. My left arm was being used for intermittent small injections ofthis and that and for withdrawing blood samples at various intervals. I was uncertain whether they were interested in how the brew was mixing or in how the mix was brewing. There was atube goingthrough mynose down into my stomach with some bile-stained fluid being aspirated into a large bottle. There was another tube in my fundament connected to another bottle. My vital fluids were being reshuffled and redealt in some modern version of the ancient doctrine ofhumors. Supervising this glorified game of put-andtake was a grim-visaged intern, who, wittingly or unwittingly, conveyed * Northwestern University Medical School, 303 East Chicago Avenue, Chicago, Illinois Ö0611. 218 Carl A. Dragsteà · Hash Perspectives in Biology and Medicine · Winter 1965 the impression that it was a darn shame to waste all that good blood on a hopeless case. I was well doped with drugs, but not too lacking in perception to interpret the intern's pessimism as a very bad omen. This was the stage setting for the kaleidoscopic "flash-back" ofa series ofevents in my life, and thus for my credulity respecting this old legend. The events were not re-enacted in their proper chronological order, nor in their entirety, nor with explanatory footnotes, nor without some discursive wandering into areas ofthe world of dreams, but I shall try to remedy some ofthese faults in my description. Event Number i: We Find Some Dynamite My brother Lester and I were born and raised in Anaconda, Montana, the smelter city for the Anaconda Copper Company. During the summers before we were old enough to work we had ample time to explore thehills and mountains roundabout. At times our trips were motivatedby ahuntforsquirrels,jackrabbits, orcoyotes, andwe carrieda22-caliberrifle, but more often they were concerned only with what was to be found on the otherside ofthe mountain. Early onesummerwediscovereda cave ina rather remote area. It was situated about half-way up the wall ofa steep incline, and a number ofattempts to climb directly up to it had been unsuccessful because the mass of loose rock below the mouth of the cave offered very poor footing. Eventually we solved the problem, however, by climbing to the same elevation as the cave, at a considerable distance around a bend, and thenworking our waycautiously in a lateral direction. Imagine our surprise andjoy when we exploredthe cave and foundthat it contained a large box ofdynamite sticks, several boxes ofpercussion caps, and two coils offuse. It was obvious that no one had been there recently. We threw a few dynamite sticks down the mountain side onto the rocks below, buttheywere alittle damp and didn't explode. Wehadreadabout miners drying out dynamite in the oven of a stove—and getting away with it—but we abandoned the idea as not being feasible for our home or oven. But the percussion caps! They were dry and in good shape. They would explode in a terrifying fashion, either when thrown against a rock...