Monday, April 27, 2015
I have the MTHFR gene mutation. Zoo-wee-mama! as Jeff Kinney says in The Diary of Wimpy Kid. Oooga. Oooga. (That's the sound of a submarine's alarm.)
It means I marinate in stress hormones like adrenaline even "at rest" "under a palm tree" with a "umbrella drink in hand." It's just how I'm wired. I'm wired to be concerned the warm breeze causing the palm fronds to undulate might be the front edge of a tsunami.
I don't have to seek out adrenaline like a junkie by swimming with sharks off Australia or kayaking in Antarctica impersonating Ernest Shackleton, adrenaline finds me drying the wet brunch dishes with a dish towel and worrying about catastrophe.
The adventure of a lifetime begins with whitewater rafting in my prefrontal cortex.