So imagine my surprise when I'm told by my doctor that adrenaline's not a good thing for me now.
Some background information is needed here.
About 2 weeks back, I started getting what felt like painful period cramps, except, I hardly ever had period cramps and when I did, they didn't hurt the way some of my friends' cramps hurt where they were nearly homicidal. And to top it off, I haven't had cramps for 7 months. So to say that they were a little bit of a worry would have been an understatement.
Needless to say, the doctor didn't think it was funny either. Immediately, I was put on leave from work and the "cramps" which were apparently, "contractions" subsided. At Friday's follow-up, he asked about the "cramps" and I said truthfully, they only appeared when I went to work, which I'm still doing even though I'm officially off till the offspring arrive. It was amusing then to watch him talk to me as if a child- "So what does that tell you about going to work?" Of course, he explains in medical terms why going to work causes the contractions to occur. And that's where the word adrenaline comes in.
So, work causes an adrenaline rush and not in a good way. It's what gives me the energy to yell and flail my arms at the kids even when I feel like I've been run over by a truck. It's what gives me that extra bit of energy to fit political battles. But it's what causes the contractions.
Then, I tell him I'm miserable and sick and beg for some reprieve. He tells me what I can take, which isn't all that much because most cough and cold medication contains, say it with me, adrenaline, which is good to cure the common cold apparently, but not when one is trying to grow offspring to full-term without the added risk of inducing pre-term labour.
To top it all off, he gives the be-all- and- end-all warning. That I'm not to do anything that might cause any sort of surge in adrenaline unless I'm really that excited about seeing the offspring that I don't mind the miniature not-yet-fully-functional version that would need special and extremely expensive care. So, no exercise, no major fights with Packrat or my mother (although I must say, my mother is a more likely candidate than Packrat unless he WoWs indiscriminately into the night again), no having my fist stuck into a pot of hot water as if I were a poor caged up bear in China waiting to be eaten and no playing chicken with a monster truck.
In summary, the action junkie needs to take a chill-pill and it's gotta the herbal edition. Not all that exciting but then again, this is pregnancy, not the name game of death.
Technorati Tags: Pregnancy, Contractions