New muffler and tailpipe, stainless steel, $150 delivered. So my next step with the Jeep is to take out the corresponding parts of the exhaust system and install these, which will go a very very long way towards reducing the drone I get inside the cabin.
Of course, it's not that simple. It's not an exact replacement, so I'll need to cut the flange off the old muffler and reuse it; and I also need to replace the rear hanger on the truck (which is a clamp-type) and cut the hanger off the tailpipe (which is the rubber bushing type). Hope beyond hope that the flange on the muffler isn't the leak, but I do have a welder so I might be able to bodge something together. (Except, wait, the original is stainless steel. *sigh*)
I haven't done the rear hangar because it means removing, at least partly, the trailer hitch. I've been thinking, though, about turning the mounting holes on the exhaust hanger into slots so I can just loosen the hitch, then slip it in. I don't know what to do, which is one reason I haven't done it yet despite having the parts since 2018.
Anyway, I unboxed the shiny new parts and gloated over them, then turned to today's actual project: the cupola roof. The panel I stuck on last night is on tight, so I rotated the piece 90 degrees and stuck on the next one. The glue is still usable and in fact came out of the tube easier. Or, perhaps my hands just aren't as tired since I did not spend the prior half-hour cutting aluminum sheetmetal with tin snips.
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Trouble sleeping last night, of course. But not as bad as Friday night. So, in 2020, my medication regime went from two pills, to six, taken at bedtime:
* anxiety pill (brain)The latter two are not prescriptions but just taken on general principles.
* blood pressure pill (heart)
* acid blocker (stomach)
* antihistamine (nose)
* Vitamin D3 (skeleton)
Formerly, just anxiety pill and multivitamin. But my blood pressure has finally gone up out of "marginal". Prior to this year, there had been times when my blood pressure went into the yellow arc, where it was too low to be high, but too high to be normal, but it always dropped again later on. It's not likely to drop from here. And maybe if I keep working as I have this last week it'll drop again because I simply haven't been getting enough exercise, and exercise is what kept it low (or at least marginal) prior to all this.
And my stomach--I discussed that; the bronchial symptoms I've been having are due to GERD, so a proton pump inhibitor is needed. As late summer/early autumn has begun I've found myself sneezing a lot, which is allergies, hence the antihistamine. Vitamins are just good for you and I added the D3 partly for anti-COVID but also because I realized that I don't get enough sunlight to photosynthesize enough of my own, and I probably need it.
Anyway, looks like the anxiety pill will have to stay at a full tablet now. It's not supposed to be obvious that quickly--SSRIs take time to work--but the nights when I take a half tablet are inevitably a lot more disturbed than ones where I take a whole one. I keep waking up, I have more trouble falling asleep, etcetera. Got to love chronic anxiety. *sigh*
To be honest, it's easier to swallow a mouthful of six assorted pills than it is to swallow one or two tiny ones. "Straining at gnats" and so forth.
* * *
Mrs. Fungus and I watched Outland last night. Not art for the ages and I only put it on because it was the first thing under "free movies" that caught my eye, and I was sick of watching political news.
Not art for the ages but a good, solid, entertaining movie that is (mostly) hard SF. Okay, it's basically High Noon set in a mining colony on Io, but people are people regardless of the century. Peter Boyle's character--the general manager of the mining colony, Shepherd--is just about every supercilious, condescending, idiotic, shithead boss everyone's ever had, and Boyle played the role well, so it's really satisfying to see Sean Connery deck him at the end.
On Io, Shepherd is a big fish in a little pond, but it's made obvious during the movie that elsewhere he's a little fish in a big pond, and he's going to find out what that means the next time a shuttle arrives from the space station. And he's not likely to be as resourceful as O'Niell (Connery) is.
The explosive decompression scenes are, of course, pure Hollywood, but you can't really avoid that. Dropping abruptly from atmospheric pressure to zero atmosphere would not be good for you, but most of the injuries that kill you don't produce graphically gory results; for the most part it's just the bends--nitrogen bubbles in your blood that cause embolisms throughout your entire body, interrupting blood flow to heart and brain. Of course that doesn't make for an obvious fatal condition, and it looks like the guy just fainted (except for maybe some light bruising, red eyes, a bit of foaming or bleeding at the mouth and nostrils, perhaps, etc) so they hype it up.
People experience a rapid pressure drop of 4 psi all the time: they get into airplanes which then climb as rapidly as possible to cruise altitude, and the pressure inside the plane remains about 10 PSI or so. The only way you suffer any ill effects is if (as an episode of House, MD once pointed out) you went SCUBA diving within the past couple of days. Even then, you're not puffing up and exploding or anything.
Above about 14,000 feet most people need supplementary oxygen to remain conscious. At the peak of Mount Everest, air pressure is about 4.4 PSI, a scant third of air pressure at the surface. The Apollo spacecraft ran at 5 PSI.
With proper preparation it might be possible for a human being to get by in vacuum with just a respirator. Prebreathe pure oxygen to get the nitrogen out of the blood, have a breathing apparatus that supplies oxygen at some low pressure--just enough to force it into the blood, "2 PSI" is the figure I recall--and gradually reduce the ambient air pressure. I'm sure there would be disconcerting effects but I can't think of anything that would be actively fatal. Well--except 2 PSI in the lungs might be too much differential. It's not a lot of pressure, but what's the surface area of the inside of the lung? Multiply that by 2 and it's probably a lot. 7265 square feet is a median figure for the area, so that'd be a mere seven tons of air pressure inside the lungs trying to get out.