Three-Hour Follow Up

November 25, 2009
My phone call from the nurse came yesterday afternoon. They scheduled me to come in for the three hour follow-up to test my blood sugar levels. I was required to eat a half sandwich of my choice and drink a glass of milk between 10 and 10:30 pm. Then I had to fast until my appointment time. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, drank my glass of milk, then went to bed. My appointment was scheduled at nine in the morning.

I checked into the lab at the hospital where they took an initial sample of blood. This was from my left arm. Then I was given a clear bottle of fluid to drink within five minutes. I was told this drink contained twice the glucose of the first one I had taken. It was definitely sweeter. The nurse told me all about how important it was to be healthy during pregnancy and how detrimental gestational diabetes is. She asked if I had heard of the woman who has no legs and rides around on the skateboard. Apparently she was a product of gestational diabetes ignored and untreated. Yikes. I just thought the babies were born bigger. I didn't know it was that serious.

Then I went to the waiting room to hang out for an hour. I still wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything for the next three hours. I was, however, able to use the restroom (I asked). Thankfully I had brought my own reading materials. An hour later I went back into the lab and had a vial taken from my right arm. Same nurse. Then back to the waiting room. Another hour passed and my blood was taken from the left arm. Different nurse. This was a male, and I wasn't quite sure if the stereotype about male nurses applied to him or not. This time I bled through the little cotton swab they stuck on my arm. I wasn't sure if I should mention it or not, but the bleeding stopped, so I didn't say anything. One more hour in the waiting room then back into the lab. My arms were both sore at this time, and the right one really hurt, so I asked to get pricked in the left again. It was the male nurse again. After that I was done.

I drove home and started to feel really shaky and a little light headed. This had never happened to me before. I got home and wobbled out of the car. I figured that perhaps I needed to eat something. I went inside and had to lie down. I held up my hands and they were literally shaking. I got up and made myself a sandwich to eat, then lay down again. I took a nap and felt better, but it was definitely a weird experience.