Today was my gestational diabetes test. Say what you will, but that means a free 4 ounce orange drink full of deliciousness.
It made me feel crappy. Maybe because I downed the drink like a jello shot.
The nurse said I had to do it because I am a "woman of certain gestational age".
Yes, apparently, along with having a giant uterus, my uterus also qualifies for senior citizen status.
I wonder if I can now get senior citizen discounts at buffets.
I'll say, "Well, my body may be 31, but my uterus is 90, so give me the bloody $2 off my meal."
And they'll probably do it.
Because no one wants the woman with the old uterus to get livid and keep shouting "UTERUS" at the top of her lungs so near people trying to nourish themselves with mashed potatoes made from glue.
The Lentil didn't like the test either.
I had to fast for 12 hours.
The Lentil, much like her parents, wants to be fed regularly and right on schedule, thankyouverymuch.
So, as I was walking out of the office, I shoved an entire Fiber One bar into my mouth.
I'd barely made it to the parking lot before The Lentil, in protest, had it violently ejected.
She didn't want a healthy Fiber One bar.
No sir.
She wanted a sausage n' egg McMuffin.
2 comments:
Boo for Fiber One! At least you're regular.
31 is a "certain gestational age"?! You've gotta be kidding me.
If it makes you feel any better, I've had a gestational diabetes test with all my pregnancies, starting at the ripe old age of 22. I was reading the other day that for a lot of GD cases, there are no risk factors, so they test everyone.
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