Recently, I failed my routine 1-hour glucose blood test by one point. One point! If it hadn't been for baby boy measuring big the past few months, I probably wouldn't have had to do the 3 hour test, but alas, I did. The following is my "humerous" diary of this experience. It is intended to be funny....let's hope you find it as such....
Monday 4-6-09
In my attempt to improve my chances of passing tomorrow's glucose test, I am abstaining from all sweets and eating healthy. My day's already off to a rough start when I am running late for work and don't have time to toast my standard English muffin with peanut butter. As I run out the door, I weigh all fast food options and try to determine which one would be the most 'healthiest'. I opt for the breakfast burritos and milk from McDonalds over the sausage rolls from the donut place. As I scarf my breakfast on the way to work, I eye the bag of M&M's that are used as rewards (and bribes) for my students. I resist the temptation. Throughout the day, I am offered desserts at 2 separate times and pass that bag of M&M's all day long, yet successfully resist the desire for sweets. Dinner that evening consists of veggies and pork chops. Two hours later, I'm already hungry, but know I am pass the time of eating and must fast. My body is already missing food....sigh.
Tuesday 4-7-09
3:30 a.m.
AHHHH!!! My body is already feeling deprived of nutrients as I jump out of bed with a charlie horse in my right calf muscle! As it slowly subsides, I crawl back into bed and fall asleep.
5:00 a.m.
AHHHH! Again, my calf muscle is attacked by another Charlie Horse as I slide off the bed (literally, as my body is great with child) and once again, ease the calf muscle down. It's like my body senses it's desire for potassium as my stomach growls and I think of the bananas sitting on the counter in the kitchen. I look at the clock and realize I still have about an hour left of sleep, so i climb back in bed liked a beached whale and close my eyes and drift off to sleep, putting the bananas out of my mind.
6:30 a.m.
I hit the snooze button for the last time and crawl out of bed to get ready for the day. As usual, about half way through my morning routine, my stomach begins to growl. I try to suffice it with lots of water. It's only half satisfied, but it calms down. Knowing I'm going to be REALLY hungry once this 3 hour test is done, I pack myself a peanut butter and honey sandwich, grab a banana, and put them in my backpack full of school work. I leave the house and get in the car and it feels like I'm forgeting something.....Oh wait; I know...it's my usual breakfast. Sigh. Empty-handed, I climb into the 4Runner and head to my appointment. Along the way, it seems like every other radio commercial and every billboard that morning is advertising food. Sheesh! Do you know how many Sonic billboards I passed??? Focus..focus...focus!
8:00 a.m.
I arrive at the midwife's office prepared to see an empty waiting room all to myself. Afterall, they (the office staff) did say they schedule me for a day when no other patients would be there so I wouldn't have to deal with a waiting room full of wacky people! I step into the waiting room and ta-da! There's another preggo with her boyfriend and aunt (?) waiting. Not only is there someone else there, but she doesn't look happy to be there! Great! A preggo grump in the waiting the room! This should be pleasant. The nurse calls preggo #1 back around 8:20ish and I sit there patiently awaiting my turn. I am wondering when they are going to get this show on the road, because the longer they take to call me back, the longer it is until I get to eat. Just as I consider taking a bite of that PB and honey sandwich to tide me over, the nurse calls me back.
8:25 a.m.
The nurse directs me to the lab where the blood lady will take my first blood sample and then have me drink the sugar syrup, thus beginning my glucose test. I walk around the corner to the lab and there's preggo #1, sitting in THE one and only chair, sipping her sugar syrup drink (aka glucose drink), chatting away to the blood lady. After sitting in the 'waiting chair' for several minutes, I realize preggo #1's taking her sweet time to finish off the drink. I resist the urge to yell at her to hurry up as she's holding me up from getting in the chair! She climbs out of the chair while the blood lady runs to get her (preggo) some water. While she waits for blood lady to return, preggo #1 starts to chat with me. Turns out this is her first baby, it's a girl, and she's due the exact same day as me (June 24th), and she too is doing the 3 hour glucose test. How cool is that? Now, get out of my way, so I can start this test too, lady! Ok, so I don't really say that, because she is nice and hey, I'm nice too. Preggo #1, who has now become my comrade leaves back to the waiting room and I climb into the chair. Determined to be a good and positive patient, I greet the blood lady with a smile and ask how she's doing today. She's very nice and we've met before (after all, it was only 2 weeks ago that she took my blood for the 1-hour test). She does her thing while I look at the pretty pictures on the wall. Afterall, I make a better patient if I'm not watching the needle suck the blood from me!
8:30
Blood lady gives me a choice of either the orange sugar syrup or the clear sugar syrup. I have no preference, so she opts to give me the clear, as I've had the orange before. Unlike my comrade, I down the drink in about 3-4 drinks. Blood lady says she'll see me again at 9:31 a.m. and off I go back to the waiting room. I get back to the waiting room and set about pulling out my work to keep me busy. I take over my area of chairs and set up a system of inputing grades into the computer from the mound of papers I've brought along. About 15 minutes into this, I'm overcome with lightheadedness and feeling really blah as the sugary syrup begins to takes effect on my empty stomach and system. Ughhhhhh! This could be a long morning! I feel miserable! Throughout the next hour, I resist the urge to curl up in the chair I'm sitting in and close my eyes, especially since I can't curl up anyway as I have this huge basketball-sized stomach in my way. I plug on through continuing to input grades, all the while changing sitting positions every several minutes. At one point, I am sitting cross-legged on the floor working and doing my best to not be dramatic about how uncomfortable and lousy I feel, when the receptionist walks through the waiting room and asks why I'm sitting on the floor. "Trying to get comfortable," I reply with an amused grin. She grins back and continues to her destination. Meanwhile, my comrade and her entourage across the room carry on several kinds of interesting and not so pleasant conversations that I do my best to ignore. Preggo #1 gets up at one point and waddles across the room towards the exit to head to the restroom. She and I give each other sympathetic looks, and I tell her that this really sucks (as by this time, I've probably changed sitting positions about 10 times, and she replies, "I'm just trying to keep it down". Oh my! I am suddenly overcome with gratitude that I don't feel nauseated...just miserable, uncomfortable, and hungry. If I could just have some graham crackers or something , I know I'd feel better.
9:25 a.m.
My unhappy comrade and her boyfriend head back to the lab to have her second round of blood work taken. Aunt waits here and curls up in a chair. A couple minutes later, boyfriend returns for aunt and mumbles something about needing her back there. I pack up my papers and laptop and watch the clock to soon follow her. I wait until 9:3o and I too get up and head to the lab. I notice that one of the patient room doors are now closed as I walk down the hall. I am feeling woozy and VERY miserable by now and I'm wondering if anyone's ever passed out during this test. I make my way to the chair, a bit unsteady, but make it nonetheless to my destination. As I sit down, I ask blood lady if anyone's ever passed out during this, and she says no, that some tend to get nauseaus and throw up. THROW UP! Ugh! There's nothing more horrible than that! I hate to throw up! I begin to pray that the Lord will get me through this without vomiting and heaving, as I know there's nothing in my stomach since I haven't eaten in a week (it seems). Blood lady takes my blood and says she'll see me at 10:31. I get up and head back to my post in waiting room. As I pass the closed patient door, I hear the awful sounds of someone heaving her guts out, and I know it's my comrade. Ugh!!! I pick up my pace to the waiting room, sit back down, and again pull out my work, trying to take my mind (and my stomach) off of what I just heard. A few minutes later, my fallen comrade and her gang emerge and head to the exit and leave. Apparantly, throwing up disqualifies you from finishing this race. Again, I pray that the Lord will get me through this...
Over the next hour, I start to slowly feel better as the glucose syrup runs it's course. I only change positions about 7 times this time. There are a few times that I try to coax baby Ian/Eli from kicking me and somersaulting within in. He too is apparantly feeling the sugary effects and is hopping around in there like a kid on a trampoline! As this hour finishes, I am thankful that I am a little bit more steady in my walk down the hall to the blood lady.
10:31
As I sit in the chair, I comment to the lady that apparantly throwing up disqualifies you from the test (referring to my comrade). She said yes, and that depending on the doctor, most of the time, the doc will prescribe a nauseau pill and then have you come back and do it again. DO IT AGAIN?!??! Are you nuts?!? I resist the urge to tell her that if I pass out or vomit, that this is all she gets. There's NO WAY I'm doing this again! I decide instead to pray once again that the Lord will get me through this so I won't have to endure it again.
Over the next hour, I continue to feel a little bit better and I silently rejoice that the end is in sight! I can't wait to chow down on that PB and honey sandwich. I begin to pick up the pace a bit on the pile of work I've brought. I mind my own business as more patients come in and out of the waiting room (so much for no other patients, but hey, that's ok...I'm nearing the end of my test!) I'm concentrating on my work, when another patient walks in with her rambunctious 3 year old and her mother (Grandma). Both mother and daughter strike up conversation with me and feel the need to point out the obvious..."Oh, you grading papers! You a teacher?" Of course, their English grammar was not correct and I swallowed the urge to correct them, and just smiled and said yes. They then go about their business of filling out paper work and scolding the 3-year old to sit down and be quiet. They alternate the threats to him from that if he didn't behave, the doctor was going to come out and give him a shot and that they were going to take him to school because he didn't know how to behave. At least with the other patients who've come and gone, they've smiled and nodded at me, but were quiet for the most part. THIS patient and her entourage were NOT that way. The boy was all over the place and he knew that his mother's and grandmother's threats were empty. I tried to keep working and ignore the urge to tell the mother that in all that time she's wasted on telling her son to come sit down that she could have long ago just gotten up, spanked his rear, told him he needed to listen and obey, and set him in line. Instead, she's teaching him to be scared of doctors and school! She needed to be teaching him to listen to her the FIRST time.... Focus, focus, focus...input grades, mind your own business, you're almost done, Shannon! Not all parents parent in the same way...
11:25 a.m
I pack up my school work and things for the last time and eagerly watch the clock. I'm almost there! I'm going to make it through! YES!!!! I'm feeling pretty good despite the weakness from hunger and having my blood sucked from my body 3 previous times! At 11:30, I pick up my things and head through the door from the waiting room, and break out in the Rocky Balboa victory dance as I pass the receptionist desk and make my way to the lab. The nurses smile at me as I pass, and I am relieved to be on the last leg of this journey! Ok, so I don't really do the victory dance, but I could almost swear I hear the theme song from that movie! I get to the lab, get my last blood drawl, thanking blood lady and telling her that I hope I don't see her for quite some time after this. She laughs in total understanding! I leave the lab and head to my car. I can't believe it's over and I made it! I survived! I get to my car and quickly climb in and pull out the peanutbutter and honey sandwich from my backpack. I jump all over it like a duck on a junebug! I don't even care about getting out of the parking garage until I can get some sustenance in me. My body is weak with hunger and still feeling woozy, I make myself take my time eating it though. Whew! It's over...I made it! I survived and live to tell the story. I feel for my comrade who's going to have to repeat the process, though. No more starvation, no more sugary syrup, no more blood drawls for me! Yeah!!! I'm alive! I start my car and leave the parking garage, thanking the Lord for getting me through this ordeal. I call my husband and make plans to meet for lunch. I head to the nearest restaurant by my his work, where I debate ordering half the menu! Food....mmmmmm!
