It is my opinion that the three hour glucose tolerance test* is an evil plot to test not the glucose tolerance of a pregnant woman but her ability to cope under stress while starving. Today's test technically started yesterday at 7:30 PM when I began fasting. For the most part that wasn't so hard but when the morning time rolls around I am ready for some breakfast. My first thought in the morning is typically how fast can I get ready so I can go eat? (Answer: Not nearly fast enough) Today was different though. I couldn't eat breakfast. As I walked out the door, headed to the lab, I swear the banana's called my name. Bastards.
In my mind this was how the morning would go: I would arrive at the lab at 8, get started right away, be done by 11, then go to the DMV to renew my license.
This is actually how the morning went: I arrived at the lab at 8:30. Yes, it was half an hour later than I originally planned but in the end my inner Rojek clock, i.e. 15-20 minutes slower than others, was a God-send. Upon arriving I quickly discovered that the lab had not received the orders for my test. They were nowhere to be found and the doctor's office would need to send them again. One problem. The doctor's office didn't open until 9. So, I made my way back home (not such a bad thing since we live all of two minutes from the hospital and its surrounding buildings) and waited until 9 to call the doctor. As it turns out my doctor did send the paperwork. So, back to the lab I went and once again, the front desk could not find my paperwork. And once again I called my doctor's office and once again they informed me that the paperwork had been sent. Again, I went back to the front desk and this time, as if by magic, my paperwork appeared.
Holy shit. It takes a lot to get me riled-up, even now being pregnant and all hormonal, and I'm not typically a crier but it took all of my control to fight back the tears. I hate throwing the pregnancy card out there and really pregnant or not, holy shit! They're expecting a lot from a pregnant woman who hasn't eaten in almost 14 hours. As my frustration slowly dissipated I settled into the chair for the next three longest hours of my life.
After the first vial of blood was drawn I was informed of the recliners in the back that I could take advantage of if I so wished. Instead, I opted to sit in the waiting room and read my book while secretly people watching. People watching in the waiting room of a lab is akin to people watching in an airport terminal. There were at least four other women taking the glucose tolerance test (though, and this is mean, it was hard for me to determine that they were even pregnant which secretly made me feel better about myself). There were a number of drug testers which I was able to pick-out only because the door would be closed to the testing room when they went in. There were also quite a few babies and children. The babies and children were the funniest because while sitting in the waiting room all was fun and games but the minute they were in the back a loud wail would erupt followed by five minutes of uncontrollable sobbing. While it was painful to hear them in such agony I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. Call me sadistic. It's OK.
While waiting I also got a lesson in toddler. First, I'd just like to say that if we have a boy his name will not be "Tyler" or "Aiden" as I discovered just how annoying those names are when yelled every two seconds. Second, I'd like to say that I applaud the mother of little Tyler. He was everywhere, taking off down the hallway full-speed ahead, trying to get out the door, and climbing on chairs but at every turn so was his mom. She didn't let him get away with much and while her constant "Tyler!" was obnoxious at least she was up and with him at all times. Aiden's mom took less of a hands-on approach. Aiden was really no more active than Tyler but he had one more ability and that was he could open doors. His mom also had an uncanny ability for sitting on her ass and yelling...and yelling...and yelling...and yelling...you get my point. Aiden's mom would just yell until I wanted to scream "Clearly, your grating voice is not working. Please. Get off your ass and get him and spare us all your obnoxious lack of interest in parenting your child." Lesson in Toddler 101: I will be a Tyler mom and not an Aiden mom.
Finally, three hours and four blood tests later I was released out into the world. I immediately made a bee-line for food (Chick-fil-A in case you're wondering) and while eating lunch I discovered that it is possible to eat and never once take a breath. That was the first bright star in my otherwise dull day (for clarification the bright star was eating without choking to death because I didn't properly chew my food and instead opted to inhale it...sort of like a puppy dog does). My second bright star was when I got home and discovered that some of the maternity clothes I had ordered arrived and all of which fit. That alone called for a hearty "Huzzah!" and a full wardrobe change before heading out to the DMV. As I drove to the DMV I was preparing for the worst, something I think we all do when a DMV trip is inevitable; I was ready for the worst. I got my number and wonders of wonders before I could even sit down I was called to the window. A third bright star!
In the end my crappy day turned into a not-so-crappy day. I did get a bill for the ultrasound that will cost a whopping $230 but I'm going to pretend like it doesn't exist for the next 24 hours thus making a complete great day.
*Just as an FYI over the course of 3ish hours they draw your blood four times. Once before drinking the glucose test and then three more times every hour on the hour.
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