Classy Is My Middle Name

Yesterday I had my glucose screening test. For those who haven't had to do it, you drink a nasty sugary drink and an hour later the doctor draws your blood to see if you have gestational diabetes. The drink made me a little nauseous, but nothing too bad. I had been allowed to eat breakfast (with a limited amount of sugar) to help counteract the drink. With about five minutes to go till the blood draw the doctor walked in and we started talking about how everything was going. With two minutes till the blood draw I started to feel very lightheaded and started sweating. The doctor had me lie down so she could listen to the heartbeat and measure my stomach. Lying down I started to get even more lightheaded and came the closest to passing out that I've been in a long time. Of course that's when the nurse came in to draw my blood. So, I'm lying there trying to keep conscious, my dress is pulled up so the doctor can have access to my stomach, and the nurse has my arm to take blood. It was quite a scene and maybe one of my classier moments. After some water, hard candy, and about 15 minutes I was feeling better and allowed to go clean myself up and leave. I looked like an extra from a horror movie. My makeup was running all over my face because I'd sweated so much and my hair was sticking up in 8 different directions. It was lovely. The baby did very well and waited until I was fully recovered before beginning her morning tap dance on my bladder. She's considerate like that.

I figure that I either passed with flying colors or failed spectacularly. With that kind of reaction I don't think there's a middle ground.

Update - I just got the blood test results back and I passed! Yeah!! Because I think the three hour test might have been more than I could handle.