Whelp, I did it. I survived the torture that is the 3-hour glucose test. And yes, it was just as bad as I expected it would be.
My dear mother was nice enough to pick me up at 8:40am to get me to my appointment at 8:50. This was a big deal for her because like me, she is NOT a morning person. Needless to say, we were both dead tired & dreading the 3-plus hours of sitting in a packed waiting room.
And packed it was. The room was teeming with old people. Grumpy-looking ones. Everywhere. Anxious, grumpy old people. Awesome.
Luckily, there was one empty seat left, which I took while my mom stood near the door waiting for another one to open up. Eventually we both got seats near each other and they called me back for my first blood draw at 9:26. The blood draw itself went fast, but the godawful glucose drink I had to chug right afterwards was freaking horrible. It’s definitely as bad as everyone says it is. Especially for someone like me, who doesn’t even drink Kool-Aid or Hi-C because I can’t stand the sweetness. Blech.
Thankfully, I didn’t throw up or faint, though I did feel nauseous at a few points. Somehow the 3 hours went by faster than I thought they would, though it was still pretty draining. For whatever reason, the TV in the waiting room was off and it was uncomfortably quiet in there, despite people flooding in and out all morning. We were actually kind of relieved when two elderly ladies came in and talked rather loudly about “typical old lady stuff”: Cremation, buying a cemetery plot, the removal of someone’s stubborn polyps, pills, etc. They broke the silence for a while and we were sad to see them go.
Given my extreme fear of having things poked into my veins, the worst part was the multiple blood draws. The second one was pretty bad and I was immediately freaked out by the raised, swollen vein that popped out of my arm afterward. I had them draw the next two on my other arm, which hurt just as much but didn’t make my vein all puffy and gross. Ew.
I’m so glad I’m having twins now, because after this dumb test I really don’t know if I’d be willing to have any more kids. And yeah, I realize how absurd I must sound freaking out over a few blood draws when I still have the whole “giving birth” thing ahead of me. But what can I say? Needles are stupid little jerks and I hate them. Er, except the tattooing ones.