Or better yet - throw up in a bottle. That's exactly what the orange-flavored glucola tastes like. What is glucola and why do you have to drink it? Well, OB's decided some years ago that ALL pregnant women should be tested for gestational diabetes between 24 - 28 weeks of pregnancy. So even if your short or tall, heavy or skinny, history or no history of diabetes, all must be tested because surprisingly, people with no family history or the tell-tale signs of diabetes could have gestational diabetes.
And the story goes (in my head at least): a group of pregnant-women-hating MALE scientists got together and tried to come up with the nastiest tasting drink to give pregnant women everywhere and then of course the leader of this evil scientific cult decided to flavor this "cola" - ORANGE. Now I ask you, what pregnant woman craves anything ORANGE-flavored in her pregnancy? No one I've met! We crave chocolate, Coca-Cola, cookies, cakes, Swedish Fish and ice cream! None of which is flavored with ORANGE.
So here's my Friday. Get up, go to work, attempt to concentrate, eat lunch (low in sugar of course) and then drink the ORANGE poison in five minutes flat. Now mind you this is 10 fl.oz. of crap. Basically you have to imagine yourself in Freshman year of college (sorry Mom and Dad, but every kid gets drunk their Freshman year) shooting some cheap tequila (minus the lime and salt) in a bar,dorm room, friend's house, where ever you happened to be, and drink this "glucola" stuff just like those shots. Its painful, yet necessary. So here I am about 10 minutes after lunch drinking my multiple shots of ORANGE glucola and wanting to throw-up and die at the same time. After the last gulp I pour cold water down my throat, trying to soak up the toxic flavor while holding back my gag reflex. Forty minutes after your drink the poison you must then rush to get your blood test. So not only are you forced to drink this crap but then you have to go and endure a whole other torture just to complete, what should be, a simple test.
At the lab: I get there and its the large fat woman behind the desk. (Great. She's the one that messed up my vein last time.) I very sweetly ask if the other lady with blonde hair is in today and of course she's on break! (Why God Why?) She then informs me to take a seat while she goes to set-up the torture chamber for her first victim, a little sweet old lady with tiny, very bruise-able arms. Fat lady calls first victim to the chamber (Crap. I'm next. My veins begin to hide deep in my arms hoping to avoid the onslaught of the torture that she is SURE to provide). Little old lady leaves, visibly shaken to her core - her arms will never be the same. I'm next. She rips my arm out of my socket, wraps the rubber band around my bicep and forces my veins to the surface. She then pretends the needle is a javelin and throws it into my arm (dang she should have gone to Beijing last summer). Two vials are drawn. She then rips the needle out of my arm releasing a fountain of blood and then proceeds to put not one but two cotton balls on the gapping wound (because one can't stop this blood flow) and four pieces of tape (to hold my gushing vein in my arm) that could reach the end of lab, they are so long. I literally sprinted out of there, unlocked my car, and didn't breathe until I was down the hill from Hoag Hospital and far far away from HER.
Somebody please tell me why I can't just eat a Snickers bar and then go pee in a cup?
Yuck in a Bottle & The Wound
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