Giddy as a Schoolgirl

As predicted, my glucose tolerance test has inspired an entry.

I will begin by saying that I was a bit anxious for this little test; more specifically, for the results. Vigilantly watching what I eat for countless years, pregnancy was someone of a permission slip to gain weight. I know that this happens naturally without having the occasional breakfast of ice cream, making sure there is always a good supply of Dill Pickle chips in the pantry, and baking a batch of something weekly where I can have a spoonfull (or two or three) of batter before it bakes. No, pregnant women just grow outwards no matter what goes in the mouth. Not that I haven't tried to get my fruits and veggies in; I just prefer to dip them in chocolate first.

So it's not surprising that I wasn't looking forward to my diabetes screening. It started out by fasting. This is why I chose an 8:30 am lab appointment. I won't realize I'm fasting when I'm sleeping, right? Just wake up and go! Except that when the clinic staff were 30 minutes behind, I was left in the waiting room about to fall over, and on several occasions considered getting in some fiber from gnawing on the carpet below my feet. I am a girl who needs her breakfast. I am pleased to report that I stayed upright to trudge to the lab for the dreaded screening.

I thought it strange that for this lab, they still led me back to what looks like a school desk, complete with a tray that swings in front of you to position your arm for lab draws. The curtains were drawn for privacy. I think it's funny that drinking glucose requires privacy. I sure have no problem eating it in public. All the time.

The lab tech approached with a 20-oz bottle of "glucose drink," unscrewed the cap, poured it into a cup, and put a straw in it before handing it to me. I wanted very badly to ask for a cherry and little umbrella in it too, but I was too hungry to speak. This stuff actually looked tasty. Better than the carpet.

I took a sip. Thankfully, the lab techs had stored it in the fridge; I am told that served at room temperature, the stuff is hardly pallateable. I was relatively pleased with the taste. This was like orange soda. And then it occurred to me...orange soda! Awesome. I had given up soda all together my sophomore year of college for Lent. I had a week's worth of headaches from caffeine withdrawal, even though I hardly drank it in large amounts. It occurred to me that if that small amount of caffeine affected me that much, why start drinking it again? It became a kind of contest with myself, to see how long I could go without drinking soda, and to this day I haven't had a single can. So this little bottle of orange glucose was a welcome jolt. Plus I was so dang hungry that anything heading towards my stomach made me happy.

I turned in my empty bottle and cup for the lab tech to examine, and I said, "that actually was pretty good!" The tech look astonished. "You are the only person who has ever said that. Ever." I shrugged and let her know that I had been fasting since the evening before. "Who told you to fast? You didn't need to fast!" She shook her head and mumbled something about finding out who gave my false instructions, as I mourned for the breakfast I had missed.

I returned an hour later to have blood drawn. The five minutes I waited for results was an eternity and then some. I was sure that orange soda would be the last bit of sugar I'd be allowed to ingest for the remaining 3 months, I was sure I had diabetes. The tech approached me at the school desk. She opened her mouth to speak, then was interrupted by another lab tech asking her a question from somewhere behind the curtain. "Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up," I thought. "Just say it: You. Have. Gestational diabetes." After what seemed to be 1/2 a year, she turned to me and said simply, "you passed!" and opened the curtain to release the prisoner. A wave of excitement, relief, and hyperglycemia overcame me as I smiled an orange-tooth-stained grin like a little schoolgirl.