I mentioned in my last Maternity Monday post that I had to do a three hour glucose test after failing my one hour during my twenty-seventth week. I took the test a week ago yesterday.
I took the fully charged Ipad and sat through a total of four sticks over three hours. I've found that the lemon lime flavor drink is much less disgusting then the fruit punch or orange. I've had the opportunity to taste all three during this pregnancy.
The midwife had told me to call the following morning to get my results. The lab and my doctor's office are all in the same building so they should be able to pull the results from the computer, no problem.
I called on Wednesday last week, the receptionist took my information and told me a nurse would check for the results and call me back. I recieved a call about an hour and half later. I kind of thought I was going to fail the test. I mean my track record put me right above the acceptable numbers during my one hour test. I was happy and amazed when the nurse confidently chirped, "Your blood sugar was perfect at ninety-eight."
It was just the news I wanted to hear. We were kind of waiting on this result and Dave's last injectable treatment for his herniated disc to decide on our holiday plans. Everything was looking good. We planned to head to Pittsburgh for Christmas.
Monday my phone rings. The caller id shows my doctor's name, and not the practice name. This was not a call from the receptionist. The call was coming from the nurse's station.
It was my midwife calling. She said she had bad news. I had failed the glucose test. I had gestational diabetes. I protested. I told her about the nurse, and the perfect, you know ninety-eight, good stuff, last week from this very number. I could hear her shuffle papers. She explained she was just checking my chart to see if results had come in yet. She was fully prepared to call me to scold me for not doing the test yet. No one had notified her the results were in, or that they had given them to me. The signature of the person who gave me the results were not that of someone she was familiar with, certainly not the regular call nurse or her nurse. Ninety-eight was indeed my last number, but my middle two draws were both over two hundred.
I am beyond angry. I cannot even describe it. Our Christmas trip is cancelled. There will be no venturing more than an hours drive away from now until delivery. I meet with a diabetes counselor on Friday. I have an appointment after Christmas with my doctor and then I'll have weekly fetal monitoring and ultrasounds until the baby is born.
I am just glad the midwife caught this before we headed to Pittsburgh and I started shoveling in my mom's famous pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. Those cookies happen once and year and I look forward to eating at least a dozen on my own.
So for now, I'll be toting this crap around instead of Christmas goodies.