In an effort to defeat TypePad and prove to it who's boss, I am busy behind the scenes trying to import the posts from AmeriBrit Baby , our first blog, into this one. To tie you over until I've either made TypePad cry uncle, or I am crying uncle, I bring you one of my favourite posts from the good old days. The days of being hugely pregnant, uncomfortable and irritated. This was originally posted on October 31, 2005, just a couple of short hours after undergoing my three hour glucose tolerance test. I have edited, for both clarity and space, the original post. Oh and Gidget has now morphed into the beloved Little Imp. Although we still use Gidget from time to time.
Adventures in GTT-Land
I’m back now, and I’ve obviously survived. However, I knew I should have scheduled this GTT for any other day…..any other day in the world except Halloween.
Let me preface this by stating…
I HATE CLOWNS!
Any kind of clowns. From little porcelain collectible clowns, to clowns that pop out of jack-in-the-boxes, circus clowns and clowns that perform at birthday parties or even stuffed clowns. I don’t care how happy they look, I can’t stand them! Actually let’s be specific. They freak me the hell out! When confronted by clowns, as you are about to read, I let it be known long and loud just how much I hate clowns.
Oh and hubby dearest, I’ve now forgiven you for laughing hysterically when I relayed this to you earlier. And may a thousand clowns haunt your sleep for the next nineteen nights.
I arrived at the hospital around 7:30AM (they decided to let me do this at the hospital because of my history of Vasovagel reaction during this test) this morning and am checked in by none other than…
...Yes, that’s right, Nosferatu himself checked me in. I’m thinking; “Ok that’s cool, dude went for a more old fashioned blood-sucking-evil-dead look. I can respect that, being the vampire freak I am”. He makes sure that I’ve been fasting for the last twelve hours and shows me into a nice comfy room with a gorgeous cream coloured leather chair, variable lighting controls, a sink (which, I am sure will come in handy when I'm barfing my brains out), and a phone with a big red button. And I’m talking BIG RED BUTTON. The kind of button you’d imagine is at NORAD – that bad boy screams; “Yo people, DUCK! incoming!” I was somewhat comforted by this big red button.
...Nosferatu tells me that “Connie” will be with me momentarily to take my baseline blood draw and administer the glucola. That’s the first of the four draws for the next three hours that sets where my fasting blood sugar level is.
I sat there for about five minutes and in walks…
...Elvira (who I am assuming is Connie) is surrounded by, no joke, fog. Honest folks, I’m not making this up! Geez, the people around here are really into their costumes. I’m assuming she had little pockets of dry ice that she’d gotten wet and that’s what was causing the fog. So, Elvira sticks me once and actually lands my first draw with one stick only. She’s ok in my book. Then she hands me a timer and asks me if I prefer Orange or Cola and I ask her if it’s cold and she says almost Elvira-like; “icy”….So I say, “Ok, I’ll take the cola!” I also managed a feeble little smile, knowing that I’m already sitting there as nauseated as can be while Gidget is kicking up a storm, doing her little; “I’m hungry in here Maw, send down some food!” dance. I patted Bellyzilla and told her; “It’s a cruel cruel world out there kiddo, best get used to it now!”
Elvira shows back up, fog in tow, with an actual glass “glass” full of thick brown nastiness. She tells me that when I’ve finished it to push the button on the timer and bring it back to her.
Gulp
Gulp
Gulp
*gag* Well at least it’s cold, she wasn’t fibbing about that.
Gulp
*gag* I can’t get this last bit down, I just can’t. I’m really feeling like I’m going to throw up.
The walking fog machine comes back in and says;
“Come on now, you can do it, just a bit more”
More hesitation
Then finally…
Gulp
Gulp
*gag*
And it’s down. Every last drop of that weakly carbonated, cola-tasting syrup.
The wave of nausea that followed can only be described as something out of every non-sea-legged person’s worst nightmare. I felt as if I’d been on a Tequila binge out on a boat and I was about to make the term “projectile vomiting” seem mild in comparison. I remembered the timer in my hands, punched the button and went to look for Elvira, Mistress of the Fog. By the time I found her she takes one look at me and says; “Gosh hun, you’re lookin’ pretty green, want some water?” And all I can do is shake my head. So she takes me back into the room with the nice leather chair, and the phone with the big red button and tells me to push the big red button if I feel like I’m going to pass out and that she’d be back to check on me in a few minutes.
I remember thinking to myself, "if I’m gonna pass out, I don’t reckon I’m gonna have enough forethought to push that there big red button." I ended up closing my eyes for a few minutes and decided once the initial wave of nausea had passed that I needed to take my mind off of it and just breath and do something else. So I worked on the blanket I have been crocheting for Gidget.
While I was sitting there crocheting, several people passed by and commented on the blanket…a pumpkin happened to say that the colours were really pretty. A ghost mentioned that I must be having a girl as it was pink and lavender. Then Catwoman came in and asked me which brand of yarn I was using. It was all very entertaining.
Three trips to the ladies’ room and an hour later (one because I thought the end of the world was coming and I was going to throw up –but didn’t, two more simply because I had to pee…I am pregnant after all) and Elvira shows back up with syringe in hand, ready to jab. Another easy draw! Amazing, I love this woman and all her fog!
Two blood draws down, two to go! I feel like I might just survive after all.
Heading into hour two I felt a tad lightheaded. Ok, that’s not exactly true. The room was spinning and I was sure that what they’d given me wasn’t glucola, yet Tequila in disguise. I got very lightheaded and went to sleep for a while. I open my eyes and there is Papa Smurf standing in front of me, calling my name asking if I am ok? I wasn’t quite sure if I was hallucinating at that point or just sleepy after having been woken up. So I told Papa Smurf that I thought I’d gotten a little light headed and just fallen asleep but that I thought I was ok. He asked me if I was sure I’d fallen asleep? Well, as sure as I can be. So he told me to try and stay awake and asked if I wanted any magazines. I told him thanks but I’d brought books and other stuff to keep me occupied.
I crocheted for a while longer and must have dozed off again because I was woken up by footsteps and my worst nightmare! I open my eyes, and standing before me holding a hypodermic syringe, was THIS…
I opened my mouth and Ghetto Girl jumps out and loudly exclaims;
“Hell No!”
He looked EXACTLY like the clown pictured above! Just like the one from Stephen King’s, “IT”.
And before that damned clown can get a word out of his mouth I said;
“Homey the clown is not, I repeat NOT drawing my blood. No way, nuh-uh, nope, it aint happening, girlfriend didn’t sign any consent form about no clowns!” Homey, in a weak attempt to appease me steps closer to me with that needle –which is now, honest folks, the largest needle I have ever seen and says;
“I’m just here to do…”
And I didn’t let him finish.
“You are not here to do ANYTHING, you hear that! You take your big-ass shoes, and step back with your big-ass needle, and your red-ass nose I am not down with no clown drawing my blood! STEP OFF!”
So homey holds a hand out and says;
“It’s ok, just calm down and take a deep breath…..”
To which I reply;
“You need to be careful who you’re telling to calm down! I haven’t had anything to eat in over 15 hours, I’m pregnant in case you hadn’t noticed, and you just need, you really, you….you….you just need to step yourself back out that door and go fetch Elvira, because you ARE NOT COMING NEAR ME WITH THAT NEEDLE! I’m not down with that! Go on now, get! Get your silly-ass self and those happy-ass too-big shoes out of my sight!”
So he turns around and walks down the hall and yells;
“Oh Connie, you’re Mawthah Stewaaht in theyah wants you, she won’t let me touch ‘er!”
Yep, that WAS the clown from IT! He had THE SAME EXACT ACCENT
So I repose myself back in my chair and try and calm down a bit and Elvira comes in and asks me if I’m ok, and I quite calmly and politely with a smile on my face tell her that at no time will any clown regardless of where it got it’s phlebotomy license from, be drawing my blood. Elvira just laughed and told me that was fine and that she would be back for my third draw in a few minutes. After my third draw she asked if I wanted some water as I was starting to look a bit green again and I told her that I’d appreciate it, as not only was I feeling a tad nauseated once again, but shaky as well.
The water went down well and the next hour passed without event, or clowns, and she came in for my fourth and final draw. She was good, I'll tell ya that much. Single pokes each time and she didn't "hunt" around for the vein like so many others do. Dammit, find the vein and then jab me, don't jab and then hunt for it!
She looked at me after she drew my blood and commented on how pale I was and asked if I’d like some juice and something to eat, that the nurses had a table in back and she’d be happy to bring me something. So I said sure, that would be nice. By the time she got back, I was quite shaky and she set down a cup of orange drink in front of me and some cookies. Yuck. More sugar. Elvira told me to just take my time as they didn’t think I should leave if I was shaky. In retrospect, I think eating the cookies was a bad move. The sugar in the cookies and the orange drink just made me feel even sicker.
Finally, about an hour after I originally should have left the hospital, I left and came home. And no sooner had I gotten home, did the cookies and juice make their way back up. Nothing like being sick in your own home.
I phoned the hubby to let him know I made it, and have been laying down since I got home just shortly before 1pm. And now I’m ready to eat something substantial. Like
maybe a Porterhouse steak and all the fixings….or a huge plate of
spaghetti with garlic bread…or fried chicken with corn on the cob with
loads of mashed potatoes slathered in my
Now it’s time to get ready for the hordes of greedy little candy-inhaling kids who seem to seek out the “good stuff” like heat-seeking missiles.
And there had better not be a single clown among the lot of them!
