Today I decided that I should just pack my bags and move into Timpanogos Hospital's laboratory. I feel like I live there now. I began numerous blood tests last week to see if we can find a reason for my miscarriages. Good news is that almost all of the tests came back negative. The only ones that were sketchy were my insulin and glucose tests. Because of that, I had the most awful experience of a fasting glucose test today.
You are only required to fast for 12 hours before the test, but because of my work schedule it turned out to be 15 and a half hours of fasting before I began the test. This was an omen of what was to come. For those who haven't had the pleasure of this test before, you start with a blood draw. Fifteen minutes later you drink a nasty glucose drink (like the one you drink to test for gestational diabetes). An hour after that they draw your blood again, then the next hour, then the next hour. All was well until I went in for the last draw.
My right vein had been punctured twice, the left only once, so she went for the left. No blood. She jabbed it around for a minute but still, no blood. She told me she had to try the right vein again. No blood. More jabbing. At this point I started to feel very dizzy and nauseated. I went into the bathroom and almost passed out on the floor. I decided I just needed to be strong and get it over with. She led me into a room where I could lay down so she could try again. This time she attempted a vein in my hand. No blood. By this point I felt so awful I was praying for the blood to come. A little jabbing around and still no blood. She was getting frustrated and was amazed that she couldn't get me to bleed after three pokes. She promised me that she had been doing this for a long time and has never had a problem like this. I pray for other peoples sakes that she is right. Finally I told her about this random bulgy vein in my right forearm. She said it was a long shot but she would go for it. I think we were both desperate. She tied the tourniquet as tight as she could, had me pump my fist as much as I could, then went for the poke. It started to bleed. Very slowly, it almost stopped, I continued to pump my fist, we got the necessary amount of blood. FINALLY.
It had been nearly 20 hours since my last meal (I had a snack before I went to bed last night). I don't do well without food, I eat all the time! I had to call Davey to come pick me up because I was too dizzy to drive. Because of this lovely ordeal, I got to pick where I wanted to eat. Pizzeria 712 was our destination and it was soooo good. My arms hurt really bad and this picture does not do it justice.
