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December 20, 2005
Confessions of the worst kind
I thought I was being so funny. The story goes like this:
Ha, ha, ha, I'm just hilarious.
I had to take my one-hour glucose test, the one that would tell me if I need to get tested further for risk of gestational diabetes. Even though I had to fast for the same test while pregnant with Gus, the rules had changed with my doctor. You're no longer forced to fast as a lot of women were getting sick after drinking the sickly sweet orange stuff. I had no problem keeping it down before, I thought it tasted like a thick Fanta, but since the doc said no fasting, I wasn't going to fast.
Not only was I NOT going to fast, I was going to take advantage of a) being in a car, and b) being outside of doors for the first time in a week by asking my loving husband to please, PLEASE, please take me through the McDonald's drive-thru. For the love of your unborn child, take me, I say!
So he did. One hour before my glucose test. He ordered exactly what I wanted: Big Mac, fries, and a Coke. I ate it in the car on the way to the hospital. I laughed occasionally, ha, ha, ha, look at me, eating McDonald's right before my test, ha, ha, ha, I'm so silly.
[Now, here's a good time to pause the story and to highlight the fact that I am normally a really intelligent gal, if I may say so myself. I am full of common sense, often cautious to a fault, and can really solve a good puzzle. I went to college, grad school...I can get jobs...good jobs. I'm smart!]
I took the test.
I failed.
I failed by ONE POINT.
141.
I needed to be below 140.
This means that I have to take a THREE HOUR glucose test. I thought that meant I came in, drank stuff, then three hours later came back and had my blood drawn.
Oh, you silly, silly, woman, who is laughing now?
Oh no. Starting tomorrow night, at 7pm, you can no longer eat anything. Nothing. Water and ice chips are on your menu. You have to be a the hospital at 7 AM on Thursday, where you will have your blood drawn immediately. Then you will have to drink TWICE the amount of thick Fanta. Then you will come back EVERY HOUR for THREE HOURS and have your blood drawn.
Big Mac, fries and a coke + thick fanta + one blood-drawing session + some light-hearted laughs?
=$fasting + double fanta + four blood-drawing sessions
Ah, some sayings come to mind now...
"You reap what you sow."
"You've made your bed, now lie in it."
"You can't have your Big Mac and eat it, too."
Posted by janna at December 20, 2005 10:35 PM
Comments
you know, don't you, that it probably would not have mattered what you ate, it would still have been a wee bit high...don't beat yourself up too badly, this way we definately know that everything is fine when you have extra testing done. Right? you are funny though and the only thing that surprised me is that you ate one hour before you had to be checked. maybe you should have had Daddy drive around for a couple of hours before the test. just kidding. Love you all
Posted by: Aunt Deb at December 21, 2005 10:14 AM
supersize me = supersize test? not fair at all. who wrote that silly equation? i wish we were nearby to keep you company on bedrest- i love a good reason to curl up with eighties brat pack flix and some yummy snacks. we are there in spirit. you're awesome.
adele
Posted by: adele at December 21, 2005 01:40 PM