Warning: contains sniveling
This morning I went to take the dreaded gestational diabetes test. I say dreaded as I have a thing about blood work. It’s not my fav. In fact, that’s putting it mildly. Last time, Will had to drive me and then shove food in my face on the way out. This time, I’ve had to do all testing solo as there’s this little detail called “child care” we didn’t have to worry about last time.
I’ve always felt that making the Knocked Up fast is just cruel. We’re predisposed to eating anything around us, and often feel quite ill with empty bellies. But I guess I/we all figure it’s just another unpleasant facet of carrying a child. This time was better in that I knew what to expect. This time was worse – much worse- as Stella opted for a 4:30 wake up call. There’s a big difference in fasting asleep vs. awake. That was 4 hours to just sit and stew, sans caffeine or toast.
Anyway, I went in a bit early hoping that I could get the show on the road and eat already. For the uninitiated, they do a blood draw first, then you suck down a horrifically sweet syrup, sit for exactly one hour, then get a finger stick to check your final level. You have to be 140 or below. I scored a f’ing 141. This automatically entered me in the drawing for a 3 hour glucose tolerance test.
My initial reaction was pure and utter panic. Not over the idea that I may be prego-induced diabetic, although give me time; I know next to nothing about it, but once I research, I’m sure I’ll freak about that, too. The panic stemmed from how in the hell am I going to try to schedule and juggle a 3 hour freaking test on top of work (mine and Will’s), Stella care, and miscellaneous appointments and obligations I’m trying to work on for/with her. More on that another time. I can only deal with one imminent unexpected wrench in my works at a time.
My doc gave me a few options: suck it up and try to come in like a normal non-busy person (ha!) for the normal 3 hour, get a glucometer (sp??) and take it home, thereby agreeing to test my sugar 4 times a day for a couple of weeks, or go to the hospital lab Saturday morning early and let them do it. As my current calendar has zero wiggle room in it – if anything I need MORE time at work vs less these days, particularly with all the holidays lately – I’ll be showing up bright and early for another stupid test at 7 AM Saturday. Neither Will nor I have to miss work/take leave, Stella will have a parent there, and I don’t have to try to figure out how take my own blood sugar while screeching down the road in a state vehicle going to Lake Charles.
This is all stupid, and I know it. I’m reacting totally emotionally and I apologize to everyone who’s bothered to read this. I think it’s less the whole “flunking the test by one point and now I have to take another, longer test” but a “I don’t know that my head can absorb anything else right now.”
It also feels really embarrassing for some reason. I know this is irrational, but gestational diabetes is for really overweight and unhealthy people – not just regular somewhat-unhealthy people like me. Again, I know once I research it I’ll feel better/worse, but at least be more informed. So, non-stuck fingers crossed Saturday goes well. It goes without saying that there will be no junk food consumed this week. Whether that helps or not for real, at least it makes me feel proactive about SOMETHING in my world these days.