Wilford Brimley is my new BFF!!

Last Friday I FAILED the glucose test for gestational diabetes. Bummer. It might just be all in my head, but several days prior to the testing I found that I was becoming nauseated shortly after finishing off my daily large Dunkin Donuts French Vanilla coffee with extra cream and sugar... my one vice during this pregnancy is this so called coffee --- its more like sugar and cream with a dash of coffee... and if I decided to eat a blueberry muffin with it - FHAGEDABOUDIT!!! I was sicker than hell. So it made me think that maybe these doctors aren't as stupid as I originally thought. Seriously, this has been a pregnancy full of "you might have __________." Every time I turn around they have me going down to the lab to give more blood to test for some new godforsaken complication or repeat ultrasound. First it was gall stones, then placenta previa, then low/high levels of some word I dare not attempt to spell... Now its gestational diabetes. So while I am forced to freak out about diseases and complications that turn out to be NOTHING!!! I am walking around looking like a pregnant crack whore with track marks all over my arms... because its not enough that I am required to get this blood work done, but I always seem to get the idiot who is just barely surviving their first day on the job or Joe A$$hole who is pissed that he got stuck filling in for some slacker co-worker so he takes out his aggression on me and sticks the damn needle through the vein and laughs it off and then sticks me 7 more times. Did I mention that I actually passed out two months ago after that dude failed to fill the 8th vile fully and then had to go back AGAIN to finish off the leftover tubes? Oh, and lets not forget that I am treated on a first come first serve basis, and I ALWAYS manage to show up 3 minutes after the "On Top of The World" bus just dropped off 73 senior citizens who need blood draws from their 9 separate doctors, because lets be honest, by that time they have an internist, a podiatrist, an orthopedist, an allergist, a neurologist, and a second orthopedist because they don't fully trust the first one - and none of these doctors are willing to share the results - and we wonder why really really old people are so freakin skinny, its because their blood levels are so damn depleted that they are on the verge of death after being stuck 32 times... So I'm stuck there waiting for 4 hours surrounded by the wretched smell of moth balls and the only magazine they have is Good Housekeeping - March 2002!!! Which of course I've already read, because this is my 7th visit THIS MONTH!!!

Anyway, the point being, that I was instructed to return to the lab this morning for the 3 hour glucose test. So this time I show up 20 minutes before the lab even opens, my master plan is to beat the retirement village to the punch and get the heck out of there, and as luck would finally have it - I succeed. We begin the morning with good 'ol Sandy (that's right - we are on a first name basis now) swabbing my index finger with alcohol, and while doing so she complains that they are not "juicy" enough and then immediately stabs me, allowing the alcohol to immediately seep into the "wound" for lack of a better word, I wanted to haul off and smack her. EVERYONE KNOWS you wait for the alcohol to DRY before you prick. GEEZ LADY. I drink the glucose and wait for an hour, get poked, wait another hour, get coughed on by Typhoid Mary, Typhoid Mary leaves and is replaced with the emphysema joe, who I'm sure was warned over and over to quit smoking, but he didn't and now he can't breath and is forced to drag this Oxygen tank all over creation, which really makes no sense at all, its like pouring salt in the wound, I can just hear his doctor now, "Joe, you have emphysema, I know that you are basically suffocating in your own body and can barely make it from the bed to the bathroom, but now we also want you do drag/roll/carry this 30 pound tank everywhere you go." So anyway, THIS GUY is hacking up his left lung and all I'm thinking is get me the hell outta here before I catch something, which would be fitting, seeing as how I've already had two colds this pregnancy. Hour two rolls around, I get stabbed 4 times, cause Sandy can't seem to get a good vein - WHAT HAPPENED TO THE GOOD VEIN YOU STABBED AN HOUR AGO??? WHERE DID THAT ONE GO??? I manage to survive the ordeal and as I'm leaving she says, hopefully you won't have to do this again, to which I reply, "Why? Did you do something wrong?" - cause by this point I haven't eaten in 16 hours, I'm in pain, I've been suffering from some pretty painful Braxton Hicks contractions and I'm pretty pissy. She says, no, just some people have to do it more than once. As I'm leaving I just think to myself, jesus, I'd rather just pretend that I am diabetic, stick to the rigorous diet and avoid this HELL - I can survive on brown rice, whole grains and restricted amounts of fruits and veggies for 12 more weeks.

So, anyway, I will find out on Monday whether or not I failed the 3 hour test. I'm not going to panic, but I will be stuffing my face with chocolate fro-yo with colored sprinkles, pizza, donuts, cookies, spaghetti and meatballs, fried cheese and whatever else I can possibly get my hands on, just in case this is my fair well weekend to normal food. Stay tuned...