I worried all weekend. Not about having GD, I haven't even gotten that far down the worry chain yet. Instead, I spent the hours dreading the test which involved having blood drawn four times. FOUR. TIMES. Phlebotomists rarely find one good vein without lots of probing, digging around and switching from the crooks of my elbow to my hands and, on really bad days, to my wrists before finally finding a vein willing to give up a tube of my life force. So, you can see why I have always been borderline phobic when it comes to blood tests. It's physically painful and psychologically debilitating.
When I was at the OB on Friday, I asked the nurse, the doctor and the scheduler what time their lab opened. I got three different answers. Awesome. I decided to split the difference and get there at 8:00 a.m. This all needed to be done as early as possible since a.) I had to fast, no food and no drinking and b.) I had to hightail it back home to pick up the dynamic duo. (They went to lunch bunch in case I was delayed.) After a short wait, it was time for the first blood draw. She got it in one with only a little bit of digging around under my skin. Then I had to chug the nastiness. It was like flat, concentrated Sprite. Not so tasty on an empty stomach but I was really thirsty so down the hatch it went. For the next 3 hours, I sat in the waiting room and tried to read a book but mostly dozed while hoping I wasn't snoring. (Sleep was the only way to escape the Christmas music blaring throughout the office. Seriously, are all of their patients Christian?) Every 60 minutes, the phlebotomist came out to get me and took another blood sample. Unfortunately, the first stick was the smoothest. After hour 1, she tried my left arm and only got a few drops so she had to go back to the right arm. Hour 2 saw the blood come from my left hand which is still hot and throbbing all these hours later. Lots of probing to find that vein which is weird b/c it's the biggest/clearest of all the spots she used. She tsk-tsk'd about me being very dehydrated and making the job harder. What do you expect, lady? I'm not allowed to eat or drink anything! Last hour, another woman drew the final tube from my right hand and sent me on my way.
I had to stop at the vending machine to get a bottle of water and a snack on my way to the car. My legs were like jelly, my ears were buzzing and I felt like I was going to cry which was very odd. Actually, I've felt on the verge of tears ever since the third blood draw. Very irrational response to the whole thing but I'm nothing if not a tad unbalanced these days. I left there feeling like I'd been assaulted. If nothing else, the whole experience solidified my confidence of our decision to end the chapter on the childbearing days in my book of life. I can't do this again. Well, that's silly, I could if I had to. I just really, really, REALLY don't want to. Now I just have to wait and see if I have GD. Then the real fun begins.
If I do, I blame my mother. She's been telling me for years, as I've packed on the pounds, that I'm going to give myself diabetes. (Like it's something you can order online!) That is the worst thing you can say to me. I'm like a self-fulfilling prophecy in action, somewhat different than a hypochondriac and probably more dangerous. If I hear about something medical that really scares me, I don't just think I have it, I actually get it. When I was in college, I can remember bawling my way through an episode of ER where a woman succumbed to pre-eclampsia. Years later, as I lay in my hospital bed waiting to have my baby way too early the next day b/c of the damage the pre-eclampsia was doing to my liver, I remembered that night and how I knew then that it would happen to me. All the oral surgeon had to do was give me the pamphlet describing dry sockets for me to end up with two of them when my wisdom teeth were extracted. Sounds crazy, I'm sure, but this is why when people tell me horror stories, I go, "LALALALALALALA!!!" in my head so I don't absorb the details because the power of suggestion is so strong with me. Unfortunately, I was listening all too clearly when a friend told me about her horrible incision issues following her last c-section and now I'm living in fear of needing a wound care nurse to care for mine in a few months.
GD results will take a few days. Please cross your fingers for me because if I have to give up carbs, Sheemee and I will slowly, painfully starve to death.
1 comment:
I hope the numbers come back OK, Christy. *hugs*
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