Good news!
03/01/2006 16:25 | Permalink
No Gestational Diabetes! I hadn't heard back from the doctor by 3;30, so I called, and they told me that the tests were negative. Woo-hoo! That explains the hypoglycemic reaction I had after the test on Monday.
But, Tom tells me that this is still no excuse to eat all the Girl Scout Cookies. Even if they're made with real Girl Scouts.
But, Tom tells me that this is still no excuse to eat all the Girl Scout Cookies. Even if they're made with real Girl Scouts.
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So dizzy... So very, very dizzy...
02/27/2006 12:48 | Permalink
So, today was the day for my three-hour glucose tolerance test, and boy, was it fun! The one-hour tests are a piece of cake. They're basically giving you a bottle of Sprite and asking you to drink it. Then they prick your finger, put a strip of paper with your blood on it in a machine and give you the results. No big deal. The Glucola is carbonated. It's cold. It tastes fine. The finger stick is no big deal. Easy as pie. But, if you fail, then you're in for it.
On the three-hour test, they're much. much meaner. First, they make you fast for 8 hours, which is really hard for a pregnant person. Then, you have to show up at 8:30, and they stick your arm with a 20 gauge needle and draw the first of four blood samples. Once they've stolen a few ounces of your precious lifeforce, they give you a big bottle of orange, lukewarm liquid, and expect you to down it in less than 5 minutes. That wouldn't be too bad, except that it tastes like CRAP. Imagine that McDonald's orange drink they serve at soccer matches. Now, imagine that someone forgot to add water, and gave you only the flavoring. Now, multiply that by 4. That's what this tasted like. It was, as I explained to the phlebotomist, horrible. It was nothing short of terrible. And I've been throwing up a lot, so I was worried that I was going to toss this horrible orange "liquid" all over the waiting room.
Once I completed the ingestion of the Glucocrap, I was asked to wait in the waiting area and come back in an hour to have my blood drawn again. I sat out in the open atrium area and became bored. Frighteningly bored. So bored, in fact, that I started reading Reader's Digest. What on earth would possess me to read that inane magazine? I guess if you're bored enough, you'll read anything. Even if it's the large-print edition of Reader's Digest.
Okay, so an hour passes, and I get to eavesdrop on some interesting conversations. One guy, on his cell phone, was asking how a meeting (which, as far as I could tell, the guy ATTENDED) turned out. He went on to say that he would like to "stick his nose in" on another meeting later this week. I also got to watch a mother try to calmly and rationally tell her three-year-old son that it was time for him to go see the doctor (it took about 5 minutes, and all the while Eileen, the wonderfully patient P.A. at Dr. McHugh's office, waited for her to hurry up and move the kid). I wanted to offer her some advice: if he doesn't come the first time you tell him, pick his little butt up and drag him in. But, it wasn't my place.
Now it's 9:30, and I am due for another blood draw. Luckily, I haven't thrown this crap up up, so that's a bonus (I guess). The phlebotomist (man, I love that word!) did another quick blood draw and off I went to waste another hour doing nothing. I tried to start my Book Club selection, but it was really boring, and I was starting to doze off, so I picked up a Redbook, instead. Just like Reader's Digest, Redbook is a festering sore on the butt of publishing. I disliked the articles, and found the advice columns to be full of doo-doo. Did you know the Leah Remini (King of Queens star) co-sleeps with her two-year-old even though the doctor told her not to? Did you care? Neither did I.
Alas, another hour passes. The phlebotomist draws again, this time from another vein. I am still feeling icky, but I've managed to keep the stuff down. The last thing I want to do is have to re-take this test. Again, I head out to the waiting area to spend another useless hour in quiet contemplation. Ha!
Instead, I head over to the pediatrician's office to bug my friends there. For some reason, they like us at the pediatrician's office. I think it's because our first winter here, we practically paid the entire yearly salary of two employees with Patrick's asthma checks. They actually tell us how well-behaved the kids are! hahahahahahahaha. Little do they know, my friends. Little do they know...
Karen was there, so I chatted with her for a few minutes. She has a little boy, Brandon, who is almost three, and she's working on potty-training. Being there myself with Gracie, I was able to commiserate. Then, she told me that one of the doctors has decided to become a stay-at-home mom. Yea!! It is our OB/Gyn's wife, too, which is interesting. Tom says that it's nice to see our doctor supporting his wife's choice to stay at home with her little ones. There are three little kids, and I am so happy for her that she decided to do what was best for her and her family. I can imagine with an education as advanced as an MD that the choice must have been very, very difficult.
But, enough about other people. Let's focus on me! After my chat with Karen and Charity, I headed back over to wait some more. I kept checking my watch every fifteen seconds to see how long it was until I could leave and get some food. By this time, I hadn't eaten in over 12 hours. I was feeling icky, but I'm pregnant, and I was hungry!
Finally, 11:30 arrived, and I had my last blood draw. I should mention here that the phlebotomist did a really good job. Minimal post-draw bleeding. Minor bruising. Very little pain. If you have to endure three hours of boredom, it's nice to know that you won't have a swollen arm at the end of the day.
I bade farewell to the ladies at the front desk, and headed out to the car. I remembered that I needed starch so that I could iron, so I stopped at Walgreen's. Then I decided that I deserved a Subway, considering what I had gone through with the orange ick. So, I got myself a Subway and a bag of chips and headed home.
As I was pulling into the neighborhood. I started to get really shaky. By the time I got home (less than a minute later) I was dizzy and very shaky. I got home, and came inside, and the whole house seemed extra bright. I knew I needed to eat, so I sat down and started chomping down my sandwich. Within a minute or so, my hands were really shaking, and it was hard to eat, but I persevered. I knew I needed that food so that I wouldn't pass out. About 20 minutes later, the shakes stopped and I started to feel little better. So, Tom headed off to work (saint that he is), and I started my day with the little ones. They asked for brownies, so I made some, but just looking at them is making me ill (BROWNIES?? Making ME ill?). Today is a lost cause, for sure.
And, to top it off, I won't get the results until Wednesday!! ARGH!
On the three-hour test, they're much. much meaner. First, they make you fast for 8 hours, which is really hard for a pregnant person. Then, you have to show up at 8:30, and they stick your arm with a 20 gauge needle and draw the first of four blood samples. Once they've stolen a few ounces of your precious lifeforce, they give you a big bottle of orange, lukewarm liquid, and expect you to down it in less than 5 minutes. That wouldn't be too bad, except that it tastes like CRAP. Imagine that McDonald's orange drink they serve at soccer matches. Now, imagine that someone forgot to add water, and gave you only the flavoring. Now, multiply that by 4. That's what this tasted like. It was, as I explained to the phlebotomist, horrible. It was nothing short of terrible. And I've been throwing up a lot, so I was worried that I was going to toss this horrible orange "liquid" all over the waiting room.
Once I completed the ingestion of the Glucocrap, I was asked to wait in the waiting area and come back in an hour to have my blood drawn again. I sat out in the open atrium area and became bored. Frighteningly bored. So bored, in fact, that I started reading Reader's Digest. What on earth would possess me to read that inane magazine? I guess if you're bored enough, you'll read anything. Even if it's the large-print edition of Reader's Digest.
Okay, so an hour passes, and I get to eavesdrop on some interesting conversations. One guy, on his cell phone, was asking how a meeting (which, as far as I could tell, the guy ATTENDED) turned out. He went on to say that he would like to "stick his nose in" on another meeting later this week. I also got to watch a mother try to calmly and rationally tell her three-year-old son that it was time for him to go see the doctor (it took about 5 minutes, and all the while Eileen, the wonderfully patient P.A. at Dr. McHugh's office, waited for her to hurry up and move the kid). I wanted to offer her some advice: if he doesn't come the first time you tell him, pick his little butt up and drag him in. But, it wasn't my place.
Now it's 9:30, and I am due for another blood draw. Luckily, I haven't thrown this crap up up, so that's a bonus (I guess). The phlebotomist (man, I love that word!) did another quick blood draw and off I went to waste another hour doing nothing. I tried to start my Book Club selection, but it was really boring, and I was starting to doze off, so I picked up a Redbook, instead. Just like Reader's Digest, Redbook is a festering sore on the butt of publishing. I disliked the articles, and found the advice columns to be full of doo-doo. Did you know the Leah Remini (King of Queens star) co-sleeps with her two-year-old even though the doctor told her not to? Did you care? Neither did I.
Alas, another hour passes. The phlebotomist draws again, this time from another vein. I am still feeling icky, but I've managed to keep the stuff down. The last thing I want to do is have to re-take this test. Again, I head out to the waiting area to spend another useless hour in quiet contemplation. Ha!
Instead, I head over to the pediatrician's office to bug my friends there. For some reason, they like us at the pediatrician's office. I think it's because our first winter here, we practically paid the entire yearly salary of two employees with Patrick's asthma checks. They actually tell us how well-behaved the kids are! hahahahahahahaha. Little do they know, my friends. Little do they know...
Karen was there, so I chatted with her for a few minutes. She has a little boy, Brandon, who is almost three, and she's working on potty-training. Being there myself with Gracie, I was able to commiserate. Then, she told me that one of the doctors has decided to become a stay-at-home mom. Yea!! It is our OB/Gyn's wife, too, which is interesting. Tom says that it's nice to see our doctor supporting his wife's choice to stay at home with her little ones. There are three little kids, and I am so happy for her that she decided to do what was best for her and her family. I can imagine with an education as advanced as an MD that the choice must have been very, very difficult.
But, enough about other people. Let's focus on me! After my chat with Karen and Charity, I headed back over to wait some more. I kept checking my watch every fifteen seconds to see how long it was until I could leave and get some food. By this time, I hadn't eaten in over 12 hours. I was feeling icky, but I'm pregnant, and I was hungry!
Finally, 11:30 arrived, and I had my last blood draw. I should mention here that the phlebotomist did a really good job. Minimal post-draw bleeding. Minor bruising. Very little pain. If you have to endure three hours of boredom, it's nice to know that you won't have a swollen arm at the end of the day.
I bade farewell to the ladies at the front desk, and headed out to the car. I remembered that I needed starch so that I could iron, so I stopped at Walgreen's. Then I decided that I deserved a Subway, considering what I had gone through with the orange ick. So, I got myself a Subway and a bag of chips and headed home.
As I was pulling into the neighborhood. I started to get really shaky. By the time I got home (less than a minute later) I was dizzy and very shaky. I got home, and came inside, and the whole house seemed extra bright. I knew I needed to eat, so I sat down and started chomping down my sandwich. Within a minute or so, my hands were really shaking, and it was hard to eat, but I persevered. I knew I needed that food so that I wouldn't pass out. About 20 minutes later, the shakes stopped and I started to feel little better. So, Tom headed off to work (saint that he is), and I started my day with the little ones. They asked for brownies, so I made some, but just looking at them is making me ill (BROWNIES?? Making ME ill?). Today is a lost cause, for sure.
And, to top it off, I won't get the results until Wednesday!! ARGH!