Mardi Grrr!

I am in high boo crank today. Oh and also, I don’t think today’s entry is going to be very family oriented…unless you decide that swearing like a sailor is a family oriented passtime. In that case, you are in luck! Pull up the fam, have a read.

Today was another one of those ‘get up early and get poked’ days so we wound up shuffling out of the house about an hour earlier than we usually do. Ugh. I was also missing breakfast because today’s picky-poke and bleed had to be done in a fasting state. I’m normally not a pleasant riser that early in the morning and I’m much less sociable when I haven’t had anything to eat. You can see how this day started out on the wrong foot.

Then, they took five (FIVE) vials of blood from me at 7 in the morning. Man wasn’t meant to wake up that early, much less get poked and bled. FIVE! VIALS! They were testing for testosterone (which I assume only rears its ugly head if you haven’t fed it? That explains a lot about men, actually), rubella, blood type, glucose, insulin, something whatsit P whatever (I didn’t recognize what it was at all. And no, it wasn’t progesterone, thankyouverymuch) and a couple other things. I think in all there were seven or nine different things they were looking for. Oi!

Afterwards, TheMan and I went out for breakfast where I had an astoundingly mediocre cinnamon roll (which became tastier as I unwrapped it, but only the very center part. Hrrrm) and an OK cappuccino specialty drink with an entire jar’s worth of green sugar sprinkles on it. It gave me a harsh case of green mouth for quite some time but that amused me more than it pissed me off. Heh. It’s not easy being green. Then it was to work! But only for a half day (whoooo!). I was on VACATION right after we all trekked out for the annual Fat Tuesday Pizza Posse lunch. Pizza House rocks, yo. We came, we saw, we ate and the rest of the poor bastards had to go back to work.

I’z on va-CA-tion! Don’t have to go! Back! Neener Neener Neener!

And that lasted just until I got to the doc’s office for my final set of “why no baby q!?!!” tests. Today’s agenda included a sono-histogram, which is a fancy-schmancy way of saying “we’re gonna fill your uterus up like a water balloon, stick an ultrasound wand thingit up there and take a look see at your innards”. Joi. The nurse had me disrobe my lower half and chill out until the doc came in, which took about three weeks. Seriously. And it was something like 412 degrees in the room (no chillin for me!) so while people were popping in and out looking for other people who had just popped in or out, they all had to comment on my little tropical waiting room. “Wow! It’s hot in here!”

Really? Hadn’t noticed. Of course I am sitting around here all comfy like in my all together because y’all keep coming in and saying “Wow! It’s hot in here!” and then suggesting I take off more clothing so I don’t pass out. I’m beginning to feel like I’m playing a weird game of strip poker here. And why hasn’t anyone thought to turn down the heat in the damn room? There is only so much clothing a person can take off before they have to start shedding skin, folks.


Finally, the people who had been playing tag with each other for 20 some odd minutes ended up in the same room at the same time and my wanding commenced. For the record, although it was pretty darned cool to see my innards up there on the screen, I don’t ever have to get another sono-histogram again for the rest of my life. If I reincarnate as a female in the next life even that might not be long enough. I think I’ve had my recommended lifely dose of water shot up my whoohah while someone who is not me drives a humming wand hither and thither about my privates. The doc took some pics, did this and that and then wala! done. The whole procedure took about a quarter of the whole time I had been hanging about in the room of equatorial atmosphere.

To add insult to injury, everything looked completely normal. Nrr!

However, the visit wasn’t quite over yet since the lab had gotten my bloodwork from the morning all done (!) and the doc wanted to go over the results. They were: Normal, normal, normal all down the line save the insulin. The insulin was a mighty 16. The glucose was fine so I’m not diabetic, but because the insulin was 16 (OUT OF WHAT?!!? People! You need to quantify these things! 16 out of 15? 16 out of 112? WHAT?!??) they decided I had achieved “pre-diabetic state” and put me on some medication. And they told me to cut down the carbs. And also quit with the simple sugars. Oh and get with the exercising too. And by the way the meds don’t play well with alcohol so none of that. Thank you, have a nice day.

Wait…what? But…you said “pre” diabetic! Pre, like ‘not yet diabetic’ as in I don’t have the disease. Yet, now I’m restricting my diet and drink and my lifestyle as if I had the disease anyway. Why even bother with a “pre”, just call it like you’re treating it…maybe “secondary diabetes” or “diabetes light” because all my fun has just been sucked out of my life. True, I’m not injecting anything and my pancreas is still happy and working but no sweeties? Low carbs? NO ALCOHOL? Thanks so much for eliminating all my favorite things about eating in one fell swoop. Fuckers. Just gimmie a goddamed chicken to gnaw on, I’ll be great. No really. I love chicken day in and day out. Yummm-mmm!

The other thing I’m all up in a crank about is the goddamned pills, which are about as big as Jordan almonds and which I’ll eventually have to be taking three of. They are starting me out on one a day and working up to three because the goddamned pills cause digestive distress. Oh lovely. Like I don’t have enough digestive distress with my chronic acid stomach and the baby vitamins that make me queasy every morning…gimmie three goddamned giant ass pills to take in the evening so I can feel crappy all the damned time. I’ll never know if I have morning sickness because it WON’T BE ANY DIFFERENT from the nine million OTHER THINGS that are pissing off my stomach.

All this means that we are down to one test left in the battery of “why no baby q” tests and it’s nothing that *I* can do anything about. It is, however, something TheMan can take care of but was hoping he wouldn’t have to do since he’s a bit shy about the whole thing. After leaping on his head, ripping his skull off with my bare teeth and devouring his entire brain in one giant bite, I told him that I wasn’t really the person he wanted to be talking to about delicate situations. In fact, at that point I really was having trouble mustering up any sympathy for the embarrassment of walking into a lab with a sample cup since I had just had someone stick a humming wand up my whoohah. He did concede that dropping off a cup of swimmers wasn’t the end of the world but he’s still a very shy guy.

That’s OK babe, I have every confidence that you can blush your way in and out of the lab with the best of them.

Last year at the booniverse: I was in a pre-not updating state.

Last last year at the booniverse: JSFR: Kasuagi

The year before at the booniverse: Have you seen the goddamned pills I have to take? I had to rest up even back then to get the energy to swallow the suckers.

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