The vampire...er...phlebotomist who was still NOT wearing a "Team Edward" button handed me the bottle of Orange Torture.
"You need to drink all of this within five minutes. When you finish drinking it, tell the receptionist so she can note the time. I'll draw your blood exactly one hour after you finish the drink. Any questions?"
"Am I allowed to have a sip of water when I finish to get rid of the aftertaste?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, but you can't. If you get sick, we'll have to repeat the test."
I looked at the bottle and wondered how on earth I was going to keep it down. The morning-in-Australia sickness had pretty much ventured into Morning-anywhere-on Earth sickness over the weekend.
I pulled a straw from my son's sippy cup out of the diaper bag and inserted it into the Orange Torture.
Glug. Glug. Glug. Stop to catch a breath. Glug. Glug. Glug. Stop. Try not to vomit. Glug. Glug. Glug. Pretend this is orange soda. Except it isn't. It's nasty. It tastes like it's orange soda that was opened and left out for a year. Not sure I'd touch it even if it were the Zombie Apocalypse and this were the only thing left to drink on the planet. Glug. Glug. Glug. Finished.
I walked over to the receptionist and told her the time, 8:34. It was time to sit and try not to puke. My stomach was already churning when saliva that could rival Pavlov's dogs' started forming in my mouth.
The rapid increase in saliva production is probably the biggest sign that the shizz is about to hit the morning sickness fan. My stomach can be in absolute knots for hours on end, but once the saliva hits, it's hard to go back.
I didn't want to repeat this test any sooner than I had to. It was going to be mind-over-matter and I'd swallow the puke if I had to. It wouldn't be nearly as bad as the time I swallowed what had to be more than a mouthful of puke just so I wouldn't have to take more Milk of Magnesia. (That's the nastiest stuff I've ever had, by the way. Amazing what you'll do when you haven't pooped in two weeks. Trust me, the puke swallowing was preferable to another day of constipation. Now that I've probably made you throw up a little bit, I'll move on. Sorry about that. I promise that I did spare some of the details.)
I cradled my head in my hands long enough for the moment to pass.
"Are you okay, Ma'am?" a woman asked in her southern drawl.
"I'm just trying not to get sick on my glucose test," I answered.
"Bless your heart," she said. For those of you who do not live in the southern United States, "Bless your heart" has about a million different meanings, depending on the context. It can be a huge 'eff you,' but it can also be the equivalent of 'I genuinely feel sorry for you." In this case, she was genuine. She followed it with a request for my name so she could add me to her prayer list at church.
We talked until her name was called by the same nurse who had taken my vitals last week. The nurse recognized me and asked how I was doing as the older woman rose from the couch.
My stomach was still churning, but the salivation had stopped because the woman had taken the time to distract me from the nausea. I removed my phone from the diaper bag and fired up the Wattpad App. Fel's story had been updated and I needed to read it. It was great as always.
"Mrs. Distracted," the vampire called.
Yay, me.
I followed her back to the crypt...er...lab and filled out paperwork while Tammy set out her supplies. Once I handed it to her, she tied the tourniquet extra tight and took my blood.
"You know, I'm not going to have any blood left after this," I joked. "Good job, by the way. You're probably the best person who has ever taken my blood."
A few days later, I received my glucose results. Amazingly, I passed. Thank god I wouldn't have to be a pincushion this time around. The Gestational Diabetes could make a presence in the latter part of the pregnancy, but for now, I was safe.
Bring on the cheesecake. And the pie. And the cookies. And the cupcakes.
Or not. I'd probably get sick on them anyway.
