Yesterday was my three hour glucose tolerance test, the follow-up to my abnormal one hour screening, and the test that would diagnose me (or not) with gestational diabetes.
I'll admit, I was pretty bummed out after last week's one hour failure. I have half a blog post written moping about my frustration. Partly because I had no clue that I'd even be at risk, partly because I hate that there is judgment surrounding things like gestational diabetes, partly because it is frustrating to think that there is nothing I can do, one way or the other, to make my pancreas and my placenta play nicely together.
I took the weekend to make peace with the possibility. I read lots and lots about suggested GD diets, and started thinking more intentionally about the types of foods that I eat, when I eat them, and what modifications I could make to be healthier. I came to understand GD not as a disease I might have, but simply a lifestyle modification to keep my baby and me healthy. Shifting my thinking helped a lot.
So by the time yesterday rolled around, I was not at all anxious about what the test would reveal, one way or another. And I was even pretty calm about the procedure itself. I decided that survival was my goal for the morning, and that numbers and diagnoses were secondary. Because to make a girl who HATES needles, and ESPECIALLY blood draws, do four blood draws in the course of one morning, and on no food...well...yuck.
We showed up, they did my fasting blood draw, and after they got the results (to make sure that my fasting number didn't diagnose me outright), the nurse handed me my little bottle of pure sugar. Orange flavored again, and, thankfully, cold. And with a cup to pour it into, which actually made it far easier to drink in that five-minute window. It was twice the concentration of last week's drink. Yikes! The only way I can describe it is that the taste of sweet actually began to obscure the taste of the orange flavor.
People have some horror stories with drinking this concentration of glucose...I read about people who passed out, or threw up, or got all shaky from the sugar, or at least felt pretty queasy. I went into the first hour telling myself that this first hour would be the worst, and getting through it would mean that the rest of the morning would only get better. As it turns out, apart from feeling a little jittery (either from sugar or anxiety), I never felt bad. I sort of wished I could brush my teeth, because my mouth felt all coated with sugar, but really, it was an uneventful first hour.
Bonus! They didn't hold me captive in the lab waiting room. I was allowed to walk around the hospital if I wanted, which meant that we could go upstairs and sit in the nice waiting room by all the windows.
After the first hour, we went back down, had my second blood draw, and then went back up to kill a second hour. This time, we walked down to labor and delivery, just so I could show Matt where the unit was, and stumbled upon a deserted family waiting room, with a much much comfier couch. We spent the rest of the second hour there, then made our way back to the lab for my third blood draw.
After the third blood draw, I started feeling TIRED. The nurses doing my blood draws were great, and I got to use the comfy recliner, and they told me that if I got light-headed at any point during the morning from all these blood draws on an empty stomach, I was free to go back and hang out in that recliner. I didn't need to take them up on it, but was glad for the offer. I never got light-headed, just felt tired, presumably from a combination of the blood draws themselves, anxiety, and a sugar crash. To perk up a bit, I sat outside for the first part of that last hour of waiting, and the fresh air (despite the oppressive humidity) helped a lot.
My fourth and last blood draw went fine, and I was sort of elated when it was over, because it meant that my hungry hungry morning was over! I asked the nurse when I might hear back on the results, and she was super sweet and printed off the results of my first three blood draws, which had already come back.
My fasting and one-hour numbers were both in range (yay!), but right near the top of the range. I have no idea if it matters where in range you land, or only that you land in range. Questions to ask my doctor at my next appointment. My two hour number was out of range (high by 13 points!). So everything would come down to that last number. I was too hungry to care at the moment. We packed ourselves up, I downed a handful of trail mix, and we drove to Magpie, our favorite lunch spot, where we had pre-ordered sandwiches for pickup. We got home, and both devoured our food. Like...no talking. Just eating. And quick eating, at that!
I was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly the morning had gone, and how good I felt, and how well I did with four blood draws and a yucky sugar drink. Seriously, the morning could have gone bad in so many ways, and it didn't! I felt good and pretty energetic for the rest of the day, and was productive at work for the afternoon. I crashed late-afternoon when I got home, but a quick half-hour nap perked me up for my evening meeting. And I was glad to go to bed last night, but not brutally exhausted like I thought I would be. Very good.
I didn't hear anything back from my doctor yesterday, and ended up calling over there just after lunchtime today, because it was driving me crazy. I really wanted to know that last number, and whether I needed to make an appointment with a dietician, and what next steps I'd need to take. I mean really, I just wanted to know SOMETHING, good or bad.
I talked to one of my doctor's nurses, who didn't tell me my last number, but who said that my last number was IN RANGE, and that Dr. Locke had reviewed it all, and I didn't have gestational diabetes. I was floored. Seriously. After my first two numbers came back borderline, and my third number came back over, I assumed my last number would also trend up and be over. But nope. I'll ask him for the number at my appointment next week, because I'm curious. And my nurse offered me an appointment with a dietician anyway if I wanted it, which I might take her up on. Because even if I'm not officially diagnosed, my numbers appear to be on edge enough that a little diet modification couldn't hurt, right? I mean, it's the best of all possible outcomes. I get to eat healthier and feel better, but I escape finger pricks and blood sugar monitoring.
Anyway, that's the saga of Melissa and glucose tests. Glad to be diagnosis-free, but also glad for a little bit of a wake-up call to eat in healthier ways that will keep my blood sugar happy, even if my blood sugar isn't officially angry. :)
Up next for me is my 28-30 week consult with the OB nurse coordinator to talk about things like birth plans, pain management options during labor, vaccinations, and other end-game things. And then a regular appointment with Dr. Locke next week already, because we've moved to an ever two week schedule here in the third trimester!
We are rolling right along, aren't we!
I'll admit, I was pretty bummed out after last week's one hour failure. I have half a blog post written moping about my frustration. Partly because I had no clue that I'd even be at risk, partly because I hate that there is judgment surrounding things like gestational diabetes, partly because it is frustrating to think that there is nothing I can do, one way or the other, to make my pancreas and my placenta play nicely together.
I took the weekend to make peace with the possibility. I read lots and lots about suggested GD diets, and started thinking more intentionally about the types of foods that I eat, when I eat them, and what modifications I could make to be healthier. I came to understand GD not as a disease I might have, but simply a lifestyle modification to keep my baby and me healthy. Shifting my thinking helped a lot.
So by the time yesterday rolled around, I was not at all anxious about what the test would reveal, one way or another. And I was even pretty calm about the procedure itself. I decided that survival was my goal for the morning, and that numbers and diagnoses were secondary. Because to make a girl who HATES needles, and ESPECIALLY blood draws, do four blood draws in the course of one morning, and on no food...well...yuck.
We showed up, they did my fasting blood draw, and after they got the results (to make sure that my fasting number didn't diagnose me outright), the nurse handed me my little bottle of pure sugar. Orange flavored again, and, thankfully, cold. And with a cup to pour it into, which actually made it far easier to drink in that five-minute window. It was twice the concentration of last week's drink. Yikes! The only way I can describe it is that the taste of sweet actually began to obscure the taste of the orange flavor.
 |
| Cheers! |
People have some horror stories with drinking this concentration of glucose...I read about people who passed out, or threw up, or got all shaky from the sugar, or at least felt pretty queasy. I went into the first hour telling myself that this first hour would be the worst, and getting through it would mean that the rest of the morning would only get better. As it turns out, apart from feeling a little jittery (either from sugar or anxiety), I never felt bad. I sort of wished I could brush my teeth, because my mouth felt all coated with sugar, but really, it was an uneventful first hour.
Bonus! They didn't hold me captive in the lab waiting room. I was allowed to walk around the hospital if I wanted, which meant that we could go upstairs and sit in the nice waiting room by all the windows.
After the first hour, we went back down, had my second blood draw, and then went back up to kill a second hour. This time, we walked down to labor and delivery, just so I could show Matt where the unit was, and stumbled upon a deserted family waiting room, with a much much comfier couch. We spent the rest of the second hour there, then made our way back to the lab for my third blood draw.
After the third blood draw, I started feeling TIRED. The nurses doing my blood draws were great, and I got to use the comfy recliner, and they told me that if I got light-headed at any point during the morning from all these blood draws on an empty stomach, I was free to go back and hang out in that recliner. I didn't need to take them up on it, but was glad for the offer. I never got light-headed, just felt tired, presumably from a combination of the blood draws themselves, anxiety, and a sugar crash. To perk up a bit, I sat outside for the first part of that last hour of waiting, and the fresh air (despite the oppressive humidity) helped a lot.
My fourth and last blood draw went fine, and I was sort of elated when it was over, because it meant that my hungry hungry morning was over! I asked the nurse when I might hear back on the results, and she was super sweet and printed off the results of my first three blood draws, which had already come back.
My fasting and one-hour numbers were both in range (yay!), but right near the top of the range. I have no idea if it matters where in range you land, or only that you land in range. Questions to ask my doctor at my next appointment. My two hour number was out of range (high by 13 points!). So everything would come down to that last number. I was too hungry to care at the moment. We packed ourselves up, I downed a handful of trail mix, and we drove to Magpie, our favorite lunch spot, where we had pre-ordered sandwiches for pickup. We got home, and both devoured our food. Like...no talking. Just eating. And quick eating, at that!
I was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly the morning had gone, and how good I felt, and how well I did with four blood draws and a yucky sugar drink. Seriously, the morning could have gone bad in so many ways, and it didn't! I felt good and pretty energetic for the rest of the day, and was productive at work for the afternoon. I crashed late-afternoon when I got home, but a quick half-hour nap perked me up for my evening meeting. And I was glad to go to bed last night, but not brutally exhausted like I thought I would be. Very good.
I didn't hear anything back from my doctor yesterday, and ended up calling over there just after lunchtime today, because it was driving me crazy. I really wanted to know that last number, and whether I needed to make an appointment with a dietician, and what next steps I'd need to take. I mean really, I just wanted to know SOMETHING, good or bad.
I talked to one of my doctor's nurses, who didn't tell me my last number, but who said that my last number was IN RANGE, and that Dr. Locke had reviewed it all, and I didn't have gestational diabetes. I was floored. Seriously. After my first two numbers came back borderline, and my third number came back over, I assumed my last number would also trend up and be over. But nope. I'll ask him for the number at my appointment next week, because I'm curious. And my nurse offered me an appointment with a dietician anyway if I wanted it, which I might take her up on. Because even if I'm not officially diagnosed, my numbers appear to be on edge enough that a little diet modification couldn't hurt, right? I mean, it's the best of all possible outcomes. I get to eat healthier and feel better, but I escape finger pricks and blood sugar monitoring.
Anyway, that's the saga of Melissa and glucose tests. Glad to be diagnosis-free, but also glad for a little bit of a wake-up call to eat in healthier ways that will keep my blood sugar happy, even if my blood sugar isn't officially angry. :)
Up next for me is my 28-30 week consult with the OB nurse coordinator to talk about things like birth plans, pain management options during labor, vaccinations, and other end-game things. And then a regular appointment with Dr. Locke next week already, because we've moved to an ever two week schedule here in the third trimester!
We are rolling right along, aren't we!
Comments
Post a Comment