Human pin cushion

Friends, I am a human pin cushion.

Within in three days I had 6 blood draws and an additional shot. Oh, and a horse bit me.

Insanity, no?

Earlier this week I had my 24 week baby doctor appointment.  I knew I was due for my DTaP shot since I haven't gotten one since I broke my finer in 2005.  They're good for about 7 years and I'd rather my baby doesn't get Pertussis from me (or ANYONE), as it's rampant right now.  Last month I refused to get that shot since I was getting my flu shot.  Turned out to be a great decision since my flu shot knocked me down for a day and a half.

So I said I wanted it this time.  It was also my glucose (Gestational Diabetes) test.  So I got to have my finger pricked and squeezed and drained.  But I also have hypothyroidism and need blood work every other month while pregnant and was due for that.  Shot in the arm, blood drawn from my elbow pit vein, prick on the finger.  And they wanted to give me my Rhogam shot that day?  Uh, no.  It's not supposed to happen until 28 weeks anyway and my handsome husband remembered that.  Thank goodness, as that is literally acid they squeeze into your hip/butt and allow to fester until your blood doesn't feel so inclined to reject your baby. 

And to top it off, I failed my glucose test - miserably.  I've never failed before so I was not thrilled at the thought of doing the long fasting test, but not knowing was to expect I wasn't too upset either.

I walked away feeling brave - not in much pain.  Then the next day we went to a miniature horse farm and one of those suckers bit me, good and square on the forearm between the offended finger and elbow pit.  Yes, the horses were fun and cute and at least one of my children loved them, but seriously, I got bit by a dwarf. 

I had a day off.  And I use "day off" loosely since by yesterday my DTaP injection site was throbbing like they shot Rhogam in my arm. 

The next day, today, was my super long and stupid glucose tolerance test.  We had to drive 40 minutes away to get to the closest lab so we arrived as they opened. I hadn't been allowed anything other than "necessary sips of water" since midnight.  I'd had one sip when I woke, one when I brushed my teeth, and one as we walked out the door.  They did my first blood draw, I drank the orange drink of death and thought it (this longer test) wasn't as bad as some people make it out to seem.

LIES!  It was.  After a moment of the contents of that little bottle swishing down my innards, I thought I was going to pass out (not kidding) and/or puke.  I was allowed to drink water again so Ted got some for me.  I was also on the phone with my mother when this hit me. 

That first hour was disgusting.  I felt like half of the first trimester was being concentrated and forced back into my body for one final unwanted farewell.  The THINGS they make us do!  It is cruel.

I couldn't stand sitting in the waiting room anymore.  My feet didn't fully reach the floor - surprise! - and I felt unstable.  Ted and I sat in the car and he read to me while I sipped water and shifted positions like it was going out of style.  The second blood draw finally came.

And then, life was better.

It's strange but after the second draw I felt better.  Two trips to the bathroom helped too.

Then Ted and I went to Walmart because we had to and because I couldn't just sit in the car or in that shoebox of a waiting room with the tall chairs.  My studly husband pushed me around in a wheel chair because I felt neither able to walk nor mentally present enough to trust myself to successfully drive one of those scooter things.  It was awesome.  Talk about true love.  And, might I add, he is an EXCELLENT wheel chair driver.  Really, I mean quite impressive.  Sitting IN the chair there were times I didn't think we could navigate the poorly placed pallets and narrow squeezes around bent over rear ends.  But he was masterful in pushing his best girl around.  A+ Mr. Crowder.

All in all I got blood drawn 4 times in about 3 hours and it was not fun - the bruises on my arms can prove that - but it's over.  And I will never complain about the initial glucose test again.  It's a cake walk.  ... Mmmm... cake.

What a lesson.  No matter how yucky you think something is, it can always get worse.  And then, when it does get worse, it can get much better, in a wheelchair, in Walmart.


Beth said...

Oh, that made me crack up! Not that I'm laughing at your pain, but your descriptive experience has reminded me that I do not want to be pregnant anytime soon and where is my birth control?! Just to be sure I always take that stuff on time!

I felt a wave of nausea as you drank your orange juice. Yuck, that is not a memory I will ever forget. It truly is torture that they make you fast (especially when you're pregnant!) and then give a nasty drink. I bet women throw it up all the time!

At least you can celebrate that the worst is over! Except for the shot in the behind.

Geevz said...

Seriously, me and the good Lord are having a talk about the misery of pregnancy. If he wanted us to have babies, he should have made it easier.