The Three Hour Update
After we'd been at the three hour glucose "test," Partner looked at me and said, "It's like being in jail." And it really was.
This morning started out great-- I don't want to gross you out too much, but let's just say whilst in the bathroom things were happening from all ends. This kid is challenging my multitasking skills already.
Once we got to the lab, we realized it was in the basement of an older building, decked out in Victorian style. The chintz was almost too much for me so early in the morning. The second realization was that the lab had one loveseat and a bunch of other really hard uncomfortable chairs. It was awkwardly silent in the waiting room.
The good news is that we didn't have to endure the three hours there; we had our own little room, complete with 1950s style hospital bed and 1960s style recliner. And and changing table I'm not sure I would have put a doll on. The receptionist thrilled us by bringing a small television into the room, but then announced it didn't get reception. There were, however, some movies we could watch. Greatest hits from the 1980s: Pretty Woman, Three Men and a Baby, some flick with Shelley Long.
The room was small. Did I mention that yet?
When I talked to my midwife about the test yesterday, she noted that if my fasting blood sugar level was above 95, they wouldn't even do the test, so I inquired about this immediately. Not that I wanted that to be the case, I just would have liked to avoid the glucola. "Nope," the blood drainer said, "We don't even test the blood here. It all gets sent out." Bah.
Two hours into the test, I threw up. It had to happen-- I hadn't had anything to eat and Lord knows my stomach hasn't been cooperating lately.
The room was freezing. Did I mention that yet?
As our time ticked down, we started taking photos with our digital camera that a 15 year old boy could be proud of, in particular, the innards of our mouths. Boy, do I have a lot of cavities.
Once we were free, we both stood in the sun for a few minutes to try and get the blood moving again in our veins. Then we wanted to eat, so we headed off to a fantastic hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. It was there I had my anxiety attack. I think that is all it could have been. Everything felt normal, and then suddenly I felt like my pulse was racing. It wasn't. I felt my face get hot. And it was. I couldn't eat a thing and we hustled out of there quite quickly. Once we got in the car, suddenly everything started to feel okay. I have no idea what triggered it, other than the stress I must have felt about that stupid test and the relief of it being over. It's certainly happened to me before: When I took the GRE, I went back to my friend Irish's houses, who noted that my entire right side was shaking. It's possible I can get to stressed out about things.
If I pass, I get to do the one hour again (and probably fail again) at 28 weeks. If I fail, well, then we cross that bridge when I get home from vacation.
Because that's where I am going tomorrow! The beach awaits! We are, I think, taking a laptop, so some vacation posts may be in order. I have this highly unlikely fantasy that I will feel the Cricket move for the first time while in the ocean. At any rate, the midwife advises me to live it up while on vacation in case the results of the three hour come back saying I do have the GD. If I can restrain myself from calling for the results on Monday, I'll do just that.
Hopefully next time you hear from me will be from South Carolina. If you don't hear, it just means I'm blissed out with a book at the beach.
This morning started out great-- I don't want to gross you out too much, but let's just say whilst in the bathroom things were happening from all ends. This kid is challenging my multitasking skills already.
Once we got to the lab, we realized it was in the basement of an older building, decked out in Victorian style. The chintz was almost too much for me so early in the morning. The second realization was that the lab had one loveseat and a bunch of other really hard uncomfortable chairs. It was awkwardly silent in the waiting room.
The good news is that we didn't have to endure the three hours there; we had our own little room, complete with 1950s style hospital bed and 1960s style recliner. And and changing table I'm not sure I would have put a doll on. The receptionist thrilled us by bringing a small television into the room, but then announced it didn't get reception. There were, however, some movies we could watch. Greatest hits from the 1980s: Pretty Woman, Three Men and a Baby, some flick with Shelley Long.
The room was small. Did I mention that yet?
When I talked to my midwife about the test yesterday, she noted that if my fasting blood sugar level was above 95, they wouldn't even do the test, so I inquired about this immediately. Not that I wanted that to be the case, I just would have liked to avoid the glucola. "Nope," the blood drainer said, "We don't even test the blood here. It all gets sent out." Bah.
Two hours into the test, I threw up. It had to happen-- I hadn't had anything to eat and Lord knows my stomach hasn't been cooperating lately.
The room was freezing. Did I mention that yet?
As our time ticked down, we started taking photos with our digital camera that a 15 year old boy could be proud of, in particular, the innards of our mouths. Boy, do I have a lot of cavities.
Once we were free, we both stood in the sun for a few minutes to try and get the blood moving again in our veins. Then we wanted to eat, so we headed off to a fantastic hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. It was there I had my anxiety attack. I think that is all it could have been. Everything felt normal, and then suddenly I felt like my pulse was racing. It wasn't. I felt my face get hot. And it was. I couldn't eat a thing and we hustled out of there quite quickly. Once we got in the car, suddenly everything started to feel okay. I have no idea what triggered it, other than the stress I must have felt about that stupid test and the relief of it being over. It's certainly happened to me before: When I took the GRE, I went back to my friend Irish's houses, who noted that my entire right side was shaking. It's possible I can get to stressed out about things.
If I pass, I get to do the one hour again (and probably fail again) at 28 weeks. If I fail, well, then we cross that bridge when I get home from vacation.
Because that's where I am going tomorrow! The beach awaits! We are, I think, taking a laptop, so some vacation posts may be in order. I have this highly unlikely fantasy that I will feel the Cricket move for the first time while in the ocean. At any rate, the midwife advises me to live it up while on vacation in case the results of the three hour come back saying I do have the GD. If I can restrain myself from calling for the results on Monday, I'll do just that.
Hopefully next time you hear from me will be from South Carolina. If you don't hear, it just means I'm blissed out with a book at the beach.
posted by Katie at 9:38 PM
5 Comments:
Fingers crossed you pass the test. Have a wonderful vacation.
Wow....sounds like an awful place to be stuck for 3 hours. Glad it's over!
Have fun on vacation!! Try not to spend too much time thinking about the test results. Positive or negative, the results can wait until after your fun is over!!
Hope you are able to just chill on a nice hot beach and leave the test in another dimension.
I'm sorry the test was so miserable and stressful. I am crossing lots of things that it comes back negative though.
Have a lovely vacation!!!
Have a fantastic holiday!
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