Sugar Me Timbers

For those of you not in the know, I took the one hour glucose screening last week. And failed. The cut off is generally between 130 and 140 depending on doctor and I got a dang nabbit 141. So, I got to participate in the torture that so many pregnant women get to experience.


It goes like this: Pregnant woman can’t eat for 12 hours. AND THAT’S JUST THE BEGINNING. Then, she gets to sit in the doctors office and/or lab waiting room for three hours, have blood drawn four separate times and drink the sweetest drink known to man. A fab way to spend a morning.

Sadly, my plans to live-tweet the whole shebang went out the window because the dungeon of the lab receives no 3G or cell service. Talk about kicking someone when they’re down. But, never fear because I still captured everything for you. Because I know you’re dying to know every crazy thought that was going through my head as the morning progressed.

8.40am – Blood draw #1. Thankfully it’s the phlebotomist that doesn’t bruise the crap out of me. And that’s actually nice and just chatty enough to distract me. BECAUSE I HATE HAVING MY BLOOD DRAWN OMG. She gives me my “breakfast” of fruit punch laced with like 7,215 grams of glucose. Yum.

8.45 –  Last time I had fruit punch that burned this much I was in college and there was Everclear involved. The amount of sugar it must take for that burning sensation must be fricking crazy.

8.50 – Alright. Drink is done. Time for crossword puzzles!

9.01 – Wow. A lot of people are coming in to get fasting blood draws done. And then this douchebag mentions food?! Who DOES that?

9.05 – Is it warm in here?

9.15  – Oh. Oh no. This is not a good feeling.

9.20 – The guy that mentioned food is wearing nice shoes. I hope he doesn’t get pissed when I spew fruit punch on them.

9.24 – Little A is going banana sandwich. NO SUGAR FOR THIS KID EVERRRRR.

9.30 –  I wonder if anyone notices I am sweating profusely.

9.35 – Good god and butterfingers can any more people cram into this room??



9.45 – Deep breaths. No vomit, no vomit, no whammies…STOP

9.50 – Blood draw #2. She says I am free to leave the lab now and to come back in 40 minutes.

9.55 – I escape the waiting room and seek the sanctity of fresh air and my car. The McDonalds next to the parking lot taunts me. I feel hungover and dizzy and I just know that McRegret’s Breakfast and a giant fountain Coke would save the day. Plus, when am I ever up early enough to GET McD’s breakfast.

9.56 – I gently weep. OK, not really. I bust out the tablet and start writing this shit down.

10.12 – I want to meet the woman who pissed off her doctor so much that he invented this test to shut her piehole. And then I want to punch her. And the doctor.

10.20  – Dude it’s fricking cold outside. I should have gotten in the front seat. But if I move I may hurl. Does remote start work from inside the car?

10.30 – Kid has not stopped squirming since I chugged that %^@!. You know what, tiny douchebag, that is not helping with the nausea issue.

10.36 – For the love of all things, don’t belch. So nasty. Why do they make these things in terrible flavors? Can’t they just make it like sugar water so you aren’t repeatedly tasting this crap for hours?

10.50  – Blood draw #3, one to go. I am running out of veins.

11.00 – This is worse than the time I had to get ten vaccinations at once.

11.10 – OMG SO HUNGRY. Lolololol, I know, let’s prank the pregnant women and not let them eat for 16 hours. That’ll learn ’em.

11.12 – Holy fucking crap will the fruit punch burps from the River Styx ever go away???


11.46 – Wake up with wicked fruit punch coughs and almost vom. That would decreased the value of the car.

11.50 – Blood draw #4. And of course, she had to botch one of the draws so, um, ow. Give her credit for 75% success though. My arms hurt when I bend them.

12 noon – Hungry, dizzy, headachey. Should I go to work for a half day? Hmmm.

12.01 –  NOPE.

12.10 – Get home. Give me something to &/#$! eat.


3.36  – FEED ME. AGAIN.

4.00 – ….That wasn’t so bad.

I can’t even include battle wound pictures. Even with the botched draw I have nothing to show for it. Not a bruise, not a spot, nothing.

Now, we await the results. So far (as of 1:30 Tuesday) not a peep so I am taking that as a good sign and that I should find and eat one of those giant chocolate muffins. Because that sounds %$#! delicious.