« Isolated parenting | Home | Hairy scary »
Twenty seven and twenty eight weeks pregnant: My big day out
By ella | November 1, 2005
Today I trundled up to the hospital for my glucose test, fortunately without children in tow, having managed to offload them with Grandma (thank you Mum). I was feeling a little resentful at having to spend my precious time away from the children at the hospital being starved and then stuck with needles instead of shopping and drinking coffee in child-free surroundings. The day started badly as I had not been allowed to eat since last night and I was feeling pretty sick but it quickly turned around and I return from the hospital feeling like I have had a mini-break. After a day at the hospital. I really must get out more.
Having arrived on the dot of nine o’clock I entered the department to find about sixty-three people waiting ahead of me and reception not even open. However before I could even sit down I heard my name being called and I was whisked away to have the first blood and urine samples taken. Well, obviously they don’t take a urine sample, I gave one, and then I had to wait for my glucose drink. The longer I waited in reception reading tat about Prince Harry’s girlfriend and the like in Hello magazine the sicker I felt (possibly it was the reading material but more likely it was the fact that I had no food circulating in my hormone-laden body). Then I was handed my glucose drink. One sip of which sent me wretching. The very kindly phlobotomist quickly bundled me down the corridor, thrusting an emesis bowl under my chin and led me to a trolley in a private room. In there I managed to get the glucose drink down me and then I lay down on my trolley and slept for the best part of two hours. Without anybody coming in and hitting me on the head with a Thomas the Tank Engine carriage.
After what seemed like two minutes of sleep I was woken up for the next set of bloods and urine. I perched on the edge of the trolley with my emesis bowl resting on the shelf that is my stomach because I was looking pretty green still, although not feeling too bad. Then the very kindly phlobotomist (known as The Bleeder in the business) took pity on me and ordered me lunch - unheard of on the National Health Service. So I sat in my private room, having had a lovely nap, eating curry and apple crumble cooked by somebody else. And in my book THAT counts as a mini-break.
[SEE THE SPROGGING CATEGORY FOR MORE PREGNANCY POSTS]
Subscribe Via Email OR
Subscribe Via RSS
OR
Comments Off
Read More:
- Thirty-two weeks pregnant: glucose tolerance test and gestational diabetes.
- Fourteen weeks pregnant. It’s like having a holiday! But without the sun, good food, alcohol or fun
- Fourteen weeks pregnant: VBAC vs caesarean section
- Twenty nine, thirty, thirty one, thirty two and thirty three weeks pregnant. Or we could just call it seven months.
- Six months pregnant: pregnancy diabetes and the threat to my Mars Bar diet
Categories: Playtime, Pregnancy
Comments
Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.
No comments yet.