Oh am I grumpy. You wanted to hear all about my grumpiness, didn't you? Well, my friend, you have come to the right place.
Monday I had to go to a lab, to have the big-time three hour glucose tolerance test because my blood sugar came back a little high from my glucose challenge last week. So okay, FINE. Another twelve hour fast, another bottle of nasty orange drink, and this time THREE HOURS of waiting and giving blood periodically.
Interesting fact: did you know that 85% of women who fail the glucose challenge and go on to take the glucose tolerance test do NOT, in fact turn out to have gestational diabetes? Dude. That's a LOT of nasty orange drink.
So hey, maybe I DID have to get up early (and hungry) and drive to the lab without the fortifying influence of even a cup of tea. BUT at LEAST it snowed a whole bunch that morning and into the rush hour, flinging the Denver area roads into chaos. SERIOUSLY, people. You live in Denver. Mayhap it's time to find yourself a different strategy when your rear-wheel drive minivan is slipping on four inches of snow then to try to drive faster? Because that's not really working for me. Grrr.
Not so interesting (and completely random) fact: I hate it when people's blogs play music. I don't care how GORGEOUS your playlist is, when I'm sitting in the quiet of an after-bedtime house, and I click on a link and some song BLARES at me, it feels assaultive. Do not want.
So eventually I arrived at the lab. I figured at the very least they wouldn't be too busy, because surely most people stayed home, right? *I* thought I had to make it to the lab that day because Monday is the one day the boys go to school, and Clay had already arranged to go into work late so he could drop them off (which turned out to be even later, because of a stinking snow delay). But most people would take a pass on lab work until the roads were a little better, right?
Yeah, wrong. Neither snow nor sleet nor idiots in minivans will stay people with orders for a lab draw. However, fully half of the staff failed to show up. So the waiting room (that I was NOT ALLOWED TO LEAVE, chirpy phlebotomist girl told me like, what am I, a poorly behaved four year old?) was jammed with people who were cranky about the wait. One teenaged girl spent the full hour she waited for her blood draw whining at her dad. "I was here before EVERYONE ELSE. Why aren't they calling ME back? I'm HUNGRY. I haven't EATEN ANYTHING this morning." And then I killed her. Except only inside my head. But it was funny, in there.
Not-so-interesting-nor-relative-fact: some people would like you to believe that pureed butternut squash can be stirred into macaroni and cheese for a healthy, delicious take on a family favorite. NO ONE WILL NOTICE, they claim. This is just wrong. There is a distinct taste and texture wrongness. Just because pureed butternut squash has the same color as cheese sauce does not mean it is actually the same thing. That slippery slope would lead one to stir poo into fudge.
Finally, it was all done, and I headed for the door with two inner-elbow bruises to show for my morning. Since then I've been googling symptoms of gestational diabetes. This is very helpful, because the symptoms are things like tiredness. And having to pee a lot. And possibly crankiness. Google is a jerk.
And now that I look back over this, I'm thinking about how annoyed I get when people whine like this, as though difficult days never happen to anyone else. Life is pain, highness, know what I mean? However, in THIS case, I have a very important exception.
THIS day happened to me.
Update: My doctor emailed me to tell me that I do not, I repeat NOT have gestational diabetes. "However," she added, "you need to watch your glucose intake."
I called Clay to give him the good news and tell him what she said about the glucose intake. "I'm pretty sure she's calling me fat," I informed him. I am, after all, the daughter of a nurse, and so I understand all kinds of obtuse medical language. "Watch your glucose intake" = "you big, waddling cow."
"No, no," Clay said, "I'm pretty sure what she meant was 'eat whatever you want, but be sure to LOOK at it as it goes in your mouth.'"
Lord help me, I love that man.