10 May 2012


So I don't have gestational diabetes.

I was surprised when they told me. After coming so close to passing out during the blood tests, I actually wondered if I should just confess to having diabetes, ask them to abort the test, and send me home. It's a good thing I persevered!

Do you know what this means?

A celebration is in order! Rounds of ice cream for EVERYONE!

In seriousness, as much fun as it would be to glut myself on sugar until I literally hear my pancreas cry out in agony, roll over, and die...this little adventure has motivated me to exercise some restraint while indulging my sweet tooth.

I know. I'm surprised, too.

All kinds of surprises in this post.

Sadly, Reality is calling me back from this virtual world, so I must leave you now. Adieu.

03 May 2012

It wasn't even That much Blood

I had some lab work done at the local hospital this morning. The experience was outside of the usual routine and I thought it might make a <insert appropriate adjective of your choice here> blog post.

The test was for gestational diabetes (if you've never heard of it, don't worry, I hadn't either. But don't expect me to explain it here because that's what wikipedia is for. C'mon, guys, you gotta work a little). There are two tests for this. The first only takes an hour. They give you a sugary drink after you've fasted for a few hours and then draw your blood an hour later.

I failed the first test.


The second test takes three hours and they draw your blood four times. They can only do the test early in the morning, before the lab gets too busy. So I went in at 7:15 in the morning with no food in my stomach, ready to drink that nasty sugary drink again.

7:(freaking)15 in the morning. What an awful hour.

Same routine as last time. They give me the drink, I gulp it down within 5 minutes, an hour later they come to take my blood. But, for whatever reason, my body reacted very differently this time. About 30 minutes after chugging 10 oz. of glucose, I started to get dizzy. My stomach started to ache. I thought about throwing up. I took a stroll to the restroom, as nonchalantly as is possible for a pregnant woman who is about to be sick.

While in the restroom the dizziness got worse, to the point of seeing double. And I started to get really hot. And I had this thought, and knew it was true, "I'm going to pass out."

I've never passed out in my life. Never swooned, fainted, blacked out, and/or keeled over. Doesn't happen. Not what I do.

Yet there I was.

There's one thing I've learned about fainting from those with personal experience: it is not painful to pass out when you're already lying down. It can hurt quite a bit, however, if you're standing on a hard tile floor in a public restroom.

And so I laid down. Right there on the restroom floor. I have no shame admitting this; I regret nothing.
The floor was cold and helped my body temperature stabilize. After about 5 minutes my head cleared and I was ready to go back out to the waiting area.

Only ten minutes left to wait at this point until a phlebotomist would come for me. I could last ten minutes.

And I did. But just barely.
I started feeling like I was going to pass out again by the end of the ten minutes. The phlebotomist must have noticed something because she asked how I was feeling and offered to let me wait in a reclining chair in the back room rather than in the public waiting area. An offer I eagerly accepted.

As she was prepping my arm for the needle I started to see double again and my ears filled with a sound of roaring static. And I had the thought again, "I'm going to pass out. I've never passed out in my life but it's going to happen. Right here. Right now." I started taking deep breaths and let the nurse know that I felt like I was going to pass out.

There was a guy in the chair next to me getting his blood drawn. I can only imagine how uncomfortable I made him. :-/

Good news for all of you sitting on the edge of your seats, I did not pass out. After some deep breaths my vision cleared and the roar of static subsided. I was led to a small room with two reclining chairs and I stayed there for the next two hours.

They told me that the worst of it was usually the first hour and a half, and they're right. Most of the nausea passed in following half hour. I probably could have gone back to the waiting area, but no one seemed to mind me being there, so I stayed put. Every hour they would call me out to draw another vile. There was a small television in this back room which was stuck on Fox, so I watched Kelly Ripa (co-hosting with Josh Groban, who is surprisingly personable and enjoyable to watch) and Doctor Oz.
(Random sidenote ~ our apartment complex cut off our cable months ago, which also cut off our local channels, so I haven't watched television in a loooong time. Watching these shows, the outfits, the interviews, the live studio audience, was almost surreal. In a pointless, mindless sort of way. But it made the time pass pretty seamlessly, which I suppose is what it was created to do. ~ end of random sidenote)

Based on my experience this morning, I don't hold a lot of hope for passing this gestational diabetes test. What a bother. At least it will only last while I'm pregnant, which will only be for another 3 months. (holy $%@! only 3 months?? it's all happening too fast!!)

The rest of my day has been dedicated to sleeping the whole ordeal off. It's now half past five and I'm only just beginning to think I can handle standing up for the hour or so that it will take to wash my dishes. I'm no stranger to hospitals or lab work, so I'm surprised this visit took so much out of me.

I blame it on 7:(freaking)15 in the morning. What an awful hour.

I know regaling this little tale will stir within some of you the urge to comment with hospital anecdotes of your own. I welcome this, but if I could entreat you with a small, personal request: if you comment, please keep it light and entertaining. I really don't want to read sad stories about how you found out you had cancer. My emotions, driven by drastic pregnant-lady hormone fluctuations, just can't take it.

Thanks. {hugs} for all of you.