Well, today was slightly more exiting than I would have liked but it is not everyday you manage to clear a waiting room…
I had my regular monthly check-up with my OBGYN, and it was time to do the glucose test (this is where you fast overnight then get to drink a super sugary drink in 5 mins and then have your blood taken prior and then every hour for two hours to check for gestational diabetes). The regular check-up went fine. Weight gain – fine. Blood pressure – fine. Belly curvature – fine. Heartbeats of the Cylons – fine.
I’ve been having some Braxton-Hicks so I need to keep an eye on them, and make sure that I don’t have too many during the day but my OBGYN checked my cervix and it’s still holding up (go cervix!). Since I am entering the final phase my doctor wants me to take it super easy. No traveling out of the (tri-)state, no exercising and no hiking through the hills (not quite sure if I project the image of a hiker like I project the image of a vegetarian but there you go). My mission statement for the next few months: “Sit tight, stay hydrated and let’s get to 32 weeks without any excitement.”. Right, excitement.
So I made it through the first hour and fifteen minutes (Alex had had to leave after the main doctor’s appointment and since the waiting room was jam packed there would have been no room for him anywhere) of the glucose test without incident. Then suddenly I started to get dizzy, and my vision got blurry. Things got very blurry very quickly, and I was thinking that I should get up and say something to the receptionist but I was worried that I wouldn’t make it. In hindsight I should have called out or told one of the ten women sitting within spitting (or vomiting distance of me).
The next thing I remember is coming too as I vomited (water and residual sugary drink bits) over myself in an empty waiting room, and my wonderful OBGYN is standing over me with a sheet and a glass of water. What is my first thought? Not why am I wet but where the frak did all the women go? It takes me a few moments to get myself together, and my doctor takes me to lie down in a consulting room. Everyone is very nice, and I must be losing my British edge as I don’t apologize for causing all this trouble just thank everyone for being nice to me.
To cut a long story short I feel much better post-vomit, a little light headed but I rally enough to wait out the third blood test. I eat my snack, and then they keep me in the office for another 15 mins before I’m allowed to leave. My violent response to the glucose test was something of a shock as I hadn’t read anything about these types of reactions but apparently they do occasionally happen. I’m just assuming it was a Cylon defense mechanism due to being starved and tortured with sugar. The poor buggers probably thought that next up was being blown out of an airlock so they needed to mount an attack.