GD test

Things have been a little difficult around here lately, mostly because The Boy is beginning his slow removal from the apartment. After five years of living with him, I'm a little terrified of his absence. He's still here for now, and in some ways I think the looming da-da-da-dum feeling of his departure is worse than the actual departure itself. Although we'll see how I feel on that first night alone. I can't get into any more details than that, as I am still sorting out my feelings on everything myself. I know there is both some good and some bad in what is going on, and I'm not in any real rush to decide which scale is winning.

Plus, I know whatever feelings I have now will be completely washed out by the wave of emotions I will experience come June, so in a weird way I feel like there's no point in dwelling on sadness, confusion, etc for the moment. Nothing is very clear right now, and these pregnancy hormones are helping keep things extra-fuzzy -- mostly I am experiencing things in a cottony haze and I am ok with that.

One thing my sister and I have mentioned before in the times of complete crisis is Survival Mode. I don' t thinK I am in Survival Mode just yet -- it's usually reserved for die-hard, life-altering experiences or days and days of intense depression, anxiety, or fear. I am more in a slow, steady, keep-it-real mode.

However, on Tuesday I was most certainly in Survival Mode, but for other reasons.

After my midwife visit last week, I was told I had to take a gestational diabetes test. I think they automatically make pregnant women take this test Stateside, but in France, they only require it if there is diabetes in your family. And ok, ok, so my grandpa has diabetes, but he's also 92 (93?) and I feel like it doesn't count, but they sent me on my way anyway.

I had read some awful things about this test, and they pretty much lived up to snuff on Tuesday morning.

First, you have to go to the test on an empty stomach. I spent awhile dilly-dallying at home before heading out for the test, and by the time I got there it was almost 11:30. I was starving. In the States, the test is done using the following method:

1. Draw blood
2. Drink disgusting orange syrup
3. Wait an hour
4. Draw blood again

I thought that seemed bearable, if unpleasant.

But ha! In France, apparently, the test consists of the following:

1. Search for vein
2. Miss vein
3. Search for vein again
4. Miss vein
5. Draw blood from other arm
6. Hand over cup of disgusting orange syrup
7. Watch patient intensely while she drinks disgusting orange syrup
8. Tell her to hurry because she hasn't even finished half the bottle yet
9. More disgusting orange syrup
10. Wait TWO HOURS
11. Miss vein
12. Miss vein again
13. Remark on bruising from previous blood draw
14. Remark on how low patient's blood pressure must be, because it's impossible to find a vein
15. Find vein
16. Remark on how the blood isn't flowing into needle
17. Patient starts to whimper (I have a high pain tolerance, for the record) because the blood draw is so painful
18. Nurse says, "Well, if that's all the blood we're going to get, that's all the blood we're going to get"
19. Three hours later, patient notices that both arms are totally black and blue.

The veins and pains were bad, but honestly those two hours of waiting were far worse. Drinking such a sweet, thick syrup on an empty stomach left me slightly nauseaous, and I had nowhere to sit but on an uncomfortable bench with no back support. I was so hungry and woozy that I couldn't read -- literally unable to follow the sentences -- and my headache got more and more severe as time went on. Instead, I spent two hours spacing out, text messaging, and checking my watch.

The only entertainment I had, however, was fully appreciated. The medical lab is set up in a sort of row: general waiting area, then a hallway with three rooms for patients, then a seperate, more "comfortable" waiting area, followed by another hallway, at the end of which are two more patient rooms. I was sent to the "comfortable" waiting area (which was NOT comfortable) where I could sit alone and have some privacy. Within a minute, I understood why there were two patient rooms further down the hall, a little removed from the rest of the lab.

Sitting in my special waiting area, patients going to the rooms at the end of the hall had to pass by me first. Their (male) nurse would walk by with a cup and say, each time, in a booming voice, "Have you ever done this test before?" The bashful patient would answer and then the nurse would boom "When was your last sexual encounter?" The following explanation of the test was composed primarily of the words "ejaculation" and "masturbation" and "cup", with a few added guidelines about amount and technique. Every time, the nurse finished his explanation by saying, "Don't forget to lock the door."

I sort of loved having my special spot because, with nothing better to do, I started tallying how many men were getting "tested" and what their times were. I was surprised: in the two hours while I was there, at least 15 men came through the lab. The fastest record was 4 minutes, the longest was 17. Although, I am not sure I really want to count that 17-minute guy because he got interrupted halfway through because he left his credit card at reception. The nurse just slid it under the door, but I imagine it sort of complicated the task "at hand" for him.

But mainly, I enjoyed their "walk of shame" back down the long hallway. With only one exception, they refused eye contact and hurried out of that office as fast as possible. And the guy who did make eye contact? I'd go so far as to say that he was actually proud of his handiwork in there. He had quite a strut on him.

I'm sure it sucks to have to go and do that sort of test, and I can't even imagine how badly they wanted to tell that nurse to keep it down so that the pregnant girl in the hall couldn't hear. Curiously, I could never make out any of the patients' answers to the nurses' questions. Poor guys. But, I was grateful for the distraction.