Friday, April 4, 2014

Gestational Diabetes: a story of blood, tears, and vomit

Fun, eh?

A few weeks ago, I went through the routine, prenatal screening for gestational diabetes. Being that I've done it twice before, I was expecting it to be just that, routine. I wish.

First things first, I forgot to do the test the week my doctor's office told me to, so I spend half the day calling around to see if I can still do it. I was finally told I could, if I did it that day.
Shawn took off work early to meet me at the lab, we got there at 3:38, precise time is important here because they then tell me that the cut-off time for the test is 3:30, so they won't do it. Seriously?! It's an hour-long test. That's why I got there before 4:00! They unapologeticly refused to do it, so we have no choice but to leave and I'm stuck with trying to get in touch with my doctor's office again to find out when I really need to get it done by, but first I have to stop crying.

Meanwhile, Shawn contacted the supervisor of the lab (they don't have an on-site supervisor, what's the deal with that? Maybe if they had they wouldn't have refused me). The supervisor was apologetic and met us back at the lab to do the test herself. Thank you!

A few days later, I find out I failed.

So now I have to go back for the 3-hour glucose tolerance test, this time fasting overnight instead of just 3 hours. My body does not handle fasting well; that's when I'm most likely to get "morning sickness," (which I've had more of this time around) is when my stomach is empty.

This time we go to another lab location, it's a little bit farther from home but I didn't want the techs to remember me. Plus, what if they screwed up my test on purpose? Anyway, this lab is newer and the people were nicer. I come prepared, Kindle Fire, magazine, book, empty stomach. After having the first blood draw done (did I mention I don't handle the whole needle/blood thing well either? I've gotten better at it over the years though), I ask the lady what happens if I vomit. She tells me to just not think about that as a possibility. So, I drink the grossness and go find a comfortable chair.

My consolation to myself is that at least I didn't waste too much time. I made it about 40 minutes before feeling terrible, went to the bathroom, where the overwhelming scent of air freshener made me feel worse, walked outside for some fresh air, and couldn't make it across the walkway to the grass before losing it allover my shoes. Great, now my doctor is going to want me to try this again?

Fortunately, I was able to work with my doctor's office, knowing that I would likely have the same "result" if I tried again. I told them I was willing to check my blood sugar several times a day instead. They set me up with a monitor and now I'm stuck sticking myself 4 times a day, until baby Ben comes. At least it's better than vomiting.

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