Welcome to the amazing world of glucose tolerance testing for gestational diabetes! I've seen people live blog important events like the Oscars, and I figure this is at least as exciting. Right?!?
Yesterday, 8:30am: Call to make the appointment. Nurse says I can come as early as 7:30am. Readily agree. Receive instructions to not eat anything after midnight.
Today, 7am: Consider nurse's words carefully. Decide that by "as early as" she really meant "anytime after."
7:01am: Hit snooze button.
7:30am: Wake up. Shower, et al. Pack entertainment bag consisting of breastfeeding book (scintillating), laptop, and Kindle. Grab snacks for ride home since am positive will be moments from starving when this is done.
8:02am: Holy shit, traffic is insane. People actually go to work this early? Lots of people?
8:14am: Check in for bloodwork.
8:15am: Phlebotomist goes on break.
8:30am: Called back. Blood sugar drawn. Best stick ever. Barely felt at all. Tell blood guy; he promises to try to be here for each draw. Talk about hospital portrayals on TV. Consensus: Scrubs is best; House is worst. Wait for results. Looking for number under 126; mine is 93. Score!
8:35am: Retire to waiting room to...wait. Already hungry. This is going to suck. Sorry, baby, for withholding nutrients. But really, at a hefty 3.5lbs when most babies are 2.5, maybe you can use the break.
8:36am: Baby kicks in protest at implication that she is fat. Better get used to it, kid. You live in a world where people think a size 10 is obese.
8:37am: Every channel appears to be having 24 hour Royal Wedding coverage. UGH.
8:42am: Booooooored. UGH again.
9:20am: A little jittery and light-headed. Consider trying to nap on the couch. The hard plastic couch with no cushions. Debate which pieces of clothing I can remove to use as a pillow without being obscene.
9:35am: Second blood draw. Different person, but another good draw. No instant answers this time.
9:37am: Back in waiting room. Again ponder clothing removal for pillow usage. Eye couch wistfully.
10:11am: OMG kill me now. Another hour and a half at least. If I hear "Royal Wedding" on TV one more time I might fly to London and personally....well, I don't know what I'd do. Something. Something drastic.
10:20am: Sugar drink + empty stomach = weird gassy pukey feeling.
10:38am: Third draw is done. Sucked. First she slipped out of the vein so had to stick me again. Then the vacuum blew (??) so she had to get a new collection tube. Light-headedness compounding. So glad I have snacks in the car. GOOD THINKING, LARA! One more hour, one more draw.
11:15am: HUNGRY. RUMBLING. TUMMY. Gulping water to attempt stomach-fullness trickery.
11:37am: Where are they?? Why haven't they called me back? Panicking. Will it invalidate the results if my blood isn't drawn at an hour exactly? AHHH.
11:38am: Phew. Called back. Same chick from last draw. The one that sucked. Grimacing; anticipating worst. Over! Not bad.
11:41am: Devour crackers and banana in car. So grateful I brought them.
11:55am: OMG. Driving home. So lightheaded. Trying to concentrate on not puking in my car. Make emergency stop at fast-food drive through. Life. Saved. By. Fries. Mmmmm. Start feeling better immediately.
12:10pm: Arrive at work. Consider pleading "not feeling well" to go home, but decide to suck it up.
12:12pm: Regretting suck it up decision. Want to go home. However, this is every day.
1:18pm: Waiting for results.
1:50pm: PASSED! Whoo. She's just a giant child.
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