Just kidding. As you may recall, Friday was my date with
Mr. Glucola - the worst tasting soda-wannabe you'll ever drink. Well, I drank and drank and drank that seemingly endless orange stuff. It's not so bad at first, but by the end you feel woosy from the sugar rush and you're burping orange syrup - not my idea of fun at 7:30 in the morning. Jamie, on the other hand, thought it was a riot. Haha. I should have made the nurse give him one, too!Fast forward one hour, and mean-nurse-lady draws my blood, all 4 tubes for my glucose test. I'm not sure why I don't like her, but she looks cruel, never smiles, doesn't talk to you, so in my book that makes you mean - good at drawing blood - but mean none-the-less. I'd much prefer the nurses in the downstairs lab, but you only go there when you have to give LOTS of blood - like for your initial full-panel work up. Let's just say, I'm A-OK with never seeing them again.
Nowadays, I take it like a champ. I don't even flinch now when they poke me, much less turn white and almost pass out like I used to. See Mom? I AM all grown up! :)
After a quick call today, I got the results of the glucose test and as usual, everything is perfect. My glucose level was 93. Gestational diabetes begins at 130 and up. The way I see it, the news couldn't have come at a better time. Girl Scout cookies just went on sale.
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