The Adrenaline Cure-All

How to solve your health is­sues, one stress­ful episode at a time

Augustman - - Minority Report -

YOU’VE SURELY HEARD, at some point or other, one of those sto­ries where peo­ple man­age su­per­hu­man feats that defy imag­i­na­tion. Like some­one lift­ing a car to save a per­son, with­out con­sum­ing that in­sane drug flakka. That’s a dif­fer­ent kind of rush. But th­ese sto­ries are all adrenalinein­duced episodes. I was al­ways scep­ti­cal of such tales of drama un­til I had my own adrenaline-rushed ex­pe­ri­ence last month.

I’d just reached the of­fice after see­ing a doc­tor about a sprained back (which I had of course hurt after do­ing some­thing tremen­dously manly like crossfit train­ing and not be­cause I spent far too much time hunched over the com­puter play­ing DotA) when I re­ceived a text from my mum that read: “Pops is at the holis­tic doc’s. Hav­ing chest pains”. Now see­ing as my mum had texted in­stead of call­ing, I as­sumed it wasn’t an emer­gency. A cou­ple of min­utes later, feel­ing a tad un­easy (the start of an adrenaline charged su­per­hu­man ex­pe­ri­ence that’s granted me psy­chic pow­ers), I de­cide to check on the sit­u­a­tion. Within sec­onds of my re­ply, my mum rang, her trem­bling voice telling me to fetch my dad be­cause the pain had got worse and he couldn’t drive.

The 10-minute cab ride was ag­o­nis­ingly slow. A sec­ondary power of the adrenaline brain surge is the abil­ity to slow time. When I got to my dad, he was pale, shak­ing and sweat­ing pro­fusely. I had never seen him so vul­ner­a­ble. I sus­pected it was his heart, so I got into the driver’s seat and slammed on the ac­cel­er­a­tor. The only thing I re­mem­ber about the drive was that it was the fastest I had ever driven. Yet amaz­ingly, no speed cam­era ev­i­dence. Clearly another pow­er­ful side ef­fect of adrenaline.

Once we pulled into A&E, the hos­pi­tal staff took over. They at­tended to him and con­vinced that he was now in safe hands, I went in search of a park­ing lot.

When I fi­nally found one, I sprinted back to the emer­gency cen­tre where the doc­tors con­firmed that my dad was hav­ing a heart at­tack and re­quired an angiogram right away. They took down my de­tails, gave me his be­long­ings in a bag, and wheeled him away for the pro­ce­dure. Thank­fully, a few hours later a nurse in­formed us that they had elim­i­nated the block­age and placed a cou­ple of stents in the clogged artery. When we fi­nally got to see him, I felt an im­mense rush of re­lief.

Through­out all of this, my sprained back had given me no pain, some­thing I only re­alised hours later on the way home. I had gone from being barely able to move about in the morn­ing to speed­ing down roads like a race car driver and then sprint­ing sev­eral hun­dred me­tres through a hos­pi­tal in a mat­ter of hours.

For­get the pain pills and mus­cle re­lax­ants that doc­tors pre­scribe for the body is­sues we ex­pe­ri­ence. The best fix is to have a ter­ri­fy­ing, down­right hor­rific event kick up the adrenaline a big notch. Sure, the down­side is the scare of a life­time. The up­side, how­ever, is that it’ll en­able your body to fix it­self. Sorta.

For­get the pain pills and mus­cle re­lax­ants that doc­tors pre­scribe for body is­sues

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Singapore

© PressReader. All rights reserved.