Monday, September 10, 2012

(Epic) Fail

I took the 3-hr glucose tolerance test last week and it was torture. I laid on a cot in the clinic for over 3 hrs fighting the urge to vomit up the horrendous 100-g glucose orange sludge. And then this morning I got word that I failed spectacularly. Only my fasting and 3-hr levels were normal; it only takes 2 out of 4 abnormal values to declare gestational diabetes. And my 2 abnormals were out-of-the-park abnormal. So the kind nurse instructed me to sign up for some all-day class on how to eat whole grains and how to poke your finger to test blood sugars and what diabetes is or whatever and the thought of sweating through such a thing that is beneath even my first-year biology course education made me stabby. So I pulled rank and informed her that I hold a biomedical doctorate from a top-10 medical school and worked my way through college as a nurse aide drawing blood and doing finger sticks (in addition to taking blood pressures and emptying bed pans) and now consult for a major pharma company on, among other things, diabetes therapy protocols and health outcomes. Therefore I will be taking no such class and instead just want to know if there's a specific glucometer they want me to use, how many hours postprandial they want me to test, what reference values they want me to use, and when/whom to call for abnormal results. I also politely reminded her that we drew thyroid labs weeks ago and if they indicate that the synthroid my RE put me on during IVF cycling is still suppressing my TSH, then I can stop taking that annoying little pill every day. I want a paycheck for my own advocacy 'cause it appears I'm the only one working hard at it.

So I'm depressed about this, since it means mandatory OCD over every meal and every snack (when nausea is STILL a goddamned problem for me, not to mention the chronic bowel obstruction I have to contend with every day -- thanks, progresterone! hcg! estrogen!). It means stabbing my fingers a minimum of three times daily to check blood glucose levels. It means higher risk of induction and/or C-section. Fuck me sideways, y'all. Just when I thought the universe was done laughing at me, here we are. I also need to plan for rapid weight loss after I'm cleared at my 6-wk postpartum check since GD increases risk (through correlation, not necessarily mechanism of action) for a later diagnosis of type 2 diabetes. I will probably have to go through rounds of postpartum testing to rule this out. Fucking YAY!

And KB has been gone on his man-trip to Vegas since Friday, so all this great news comes when I am already on edge. My sister is here but being a colossal pain the ass. It's just crushing to her to not be the center of attention or to win the Who Has the Worst Ailments game, so she has suddenly developed some kind of generalized malaise and just can't be bothered to help much these last couple of days. Like, back of the hand to the forehead, damsel-in-distress, in need of smelling salts, Oscar-worthy acting. She lays in bed (which is an air mattress in the family room) awake, listening to me struggle to get Jackson up and ready in the morning with him crying and me doubled over. And just lays there. Because she's so ill, everybody. Woe. So I've been contending with a cranky toddler who's asking where Daddy is every day and wants to be held all the time and I'm not sleeping more than 2-3 hrs per night and just wishing this week was over. The end.

Although, I do have a therapy appointment Wednesday that should help. Sometimes it's refreshing to cry your fucking eyes out to a sympathetic person, even if you're paying them. And I booked a day of haircut and pedicure and in-room dining at a downtown hotel for Thursday night and Friday morning, because fuck it. I probably won't get any better sleep but at least I can have solitude. And some low-carb bullshit meal from the menu.

Pregnancy is so beautiful. *snort* But thankfully almost over. Just 7 weeks until I'm full-term. Please let spontaneous labor and a non-giant baby come through in the clutch.



kdactyl said...

Oh Jen...I'm so sorry you failed the 3 hour. This sounds just like mine...borderline on the 1 hours and huge fail on the 3 hour. Thankfully you had way more knowledge than me on this when I got it...but I was then diligent and did the research. Don't worry...the babies don't start getting fat until about now as long as you keep your diet in control...he will be GD baby was only 7lbs 13 oz and my non-GD baby was 7lbs 7 oz. So I think you should still have a good shot at a great birth. I found mornings to be the hardest time to control the sugars...but as long as you eat a big protein portion with your can still have fries, and bread and really is only temporary. So...I totally empathize with was a total pain in the ass for me and I really really hated it...but it is only 8-10 weeks and it actually kept me from gaining too much weight so I didn't have far to go after baby was born. Hang in there. It is shitty...but it is what it is!

Lisa said...

I love how you schooled the nurse, but so sorry to hear you failed the 3hr. Also sorry that both of your pregnancies have been less than amazing. That's really not fair when you had to work so damn hard for both of them. Hang in there! It's all worth it in the end!

Rhianna said...

Good goddam. And fuck. Sorry, woman. I feel all snarly for you just reading this... :( Thing is, it fucking sucks, it's a hulking pain in the ass--true, true--but you are informed and more than capable. This is anectdotal (and probably worthless) but all the issues I saw at work for the GD/DM mamas and their babies all unfolded because their GD/DM was poorly controlled. You got this shit. It's going to be okay, Mama. I do not intend to sound dismissive or minimizing AT ALL, merely supremely confident in your ability to kick asses, take names, and take care of business.

I am relieved to hear you've booked yourself a little break for some pampering. I hope you're surprised and DO get some needed rest, and if not, well, I hope your new 'do is frickin' cute.

Also, I'd like to throw a few rotten tomatoes at your hypochondriac houseguest.


jenicini said...

Nice b-slap! You are awesome. Single parenting sucks even when you aren't pregnant and nauseous. So adding in that - you deserve mad props. Go kick your sister out of that bed and tell her to help. Seven weeks - unfreakingbelievable! So excited for you!

Pundelina said...

Oh Jen! That's bad news for you especially given your whole fuck the GT. Finger pricking and meal inspection will indeed be ball-sucky. I hope that the newest member to Wonderland will come out appropriately and in a perfectly sized way.


Mina said...

Oh, sweety, this is just so shitty! Good for you for telling that nurse what you did. You will be fine, you know this, right? And whatever comes, induction, c-section, spontaneous birth in the supermarke parking at 39w3d, you will ace it, as you do with everything that hits you in life, in the face or in the back. 'cause this is what you do.
Ok, so the dieting thing is not the funniest in the world, nor is the blood drawing, but it also is not the end of the world. Bébé will comeout perfect and not huge, you'll see (yes, I talked to him about it:-)).
I wish you had it a bit more relaxed before embarking on the "two is double" adventure. But it is what it is. And you can come here and whinge as much as you want and need, you know we're here to listen and help as much as we can. It does help to unburden, and we do like to hear from you, so it would be win-win.
You will be fine. And you'll have less weight to lose after birth (it IS so nice to just jump back in pre-pregnancy clothes after you come from hospital, really, it is).
Take care!

bunny said...

BALLS! Does this mean that any part of how shitty you've been feeling is attributable to GD, or is it just the shit icing on top of your shit cupcake? (Totally making those for J's birthday, right?)

And here's a little something for your sister: If you've got the vapors so fucking bad, why don't you get your ass back home, you useless whore? Sorry, your sister and all. It just sounds crappy.

Roccie said...

Fuck me. I can only begin to imagine it. The stomach is a dEmamding mofo. How I wish you could binge where required.

You know how I feel about live ins.