So my dear mother was concerned with our families health history flowing through my veins. I see why she's concerned. Diabetes is scary I'm not gonna lie. I try to be healthy and eat consciously. The diet doesn't last long. So mother was reading some local community newpapers and found a diabetic prevention program that would be able to help me out. Not only help me lose weight but it was incentive based. Heck yes, lose weight, win stuff, and work towards not being diabetic. I was excited to join. I qualified for everything they asked for: over 18, native american, and overweight. They had one more qualification. I had to give blood(dun dun dun).
The night before going to see the doctor I went out with my best friend Goo. So we went to T.G.I. Fridays and ate all the fried crap we could find since it would be my "last supper." I'm not really a drinker but I decided to have a beer with her. That one beer turned into like 4 beers and a shot. I was supposed to fast starting at 12am. There I was at Friday's ripped at midnight with the giggles and scared of the doctor at the same time. I woke up on doctor day tuesday and decided I was going to be strong.
By doctors orders I kept my fast promise. I walked most of the way to the doctors office. (Mother had my car because I'm so kind and generous.) It was so cold outside and I had cramps. I was ready to turn around and go home. I didn't have to go to the doctor. It was my own decision. I kept going. I made it to my appointment nerves and all. These people asked me a ton of questions and I was geeked to be there. Then they made me give blood. I had an idea that they would do the prick the finger thing and that would be the most they would do. Wrong. They were all up in my elbow crease poking and then I was stabbed!!! I was ok. It didn't hurt as much as I remembered but it still sucked. I gave a tube full and then told to drink some sugar glucose drink. After 2 hours of drinking that magical potion I was told to return to get poked and stabbed again. They kept me captive in a little room down the hallway to get my juices flowing. I sure did. I was watching tv, listening to music, texting, taking pictures of myself. I was productive.
Then came round 2. I was still nervous, sweating, and stuff. I asked for the lady who drew blood the first time to do it again because she rocked. She came over and tried to find the perfect spot on my arm. No luck. My veins weren't bouncing. She tried it anyway. Same arm as last time, she poked me. I was freaking out because I knew what to expect. I looked up, she was taking forever and I was in pain! Then she gave me the bad news that nothing was coming out. I saw the needle and thing in my arm and almost passed out. I was pissed. Not only did they stab me twice but it was in the same arm. She continued to poke me in my elbow crease with her fingers and that creeped me out as much as the needle and thing did. Then nurse poke me twice called some other nurse over who didn't speak english to come help scout out a vein. Gross and scared! Finally nurse who didn't speak english decided to take a stab at it(pun intended). She got it! Yay! She didn't know how I felt about needles and stuff and wanted to show me everything she did. I really almost passed out then. There I was again sweaty, scared, relieved, and I must add stabbed in the same arm three times. I didn't cry but I was very close.
I was told they would do testing on my blood and get back to me the next day to tell me my results. You would be catagorized as: a) healthy:don't need help hooray! b)pre-diabetic:join the super fun program and win stuff or c) diabetic:sucks for you
I managed to get a ride home from my boyfriend that day. I couldn't move my arm. I was sad like I needed a sticker, treat, or trophy to cheer me up and for doing a job well done. We went to the Olive garden:-) I called mother to tell her about my experience and she was so proud of me. I was proud of myself too. Mother was surprised they took it out of the same spot in the same arm three times. She felt my pain. I waited two days for my results.
The clinic called me and gave me my horrific results. I called mother shortly afterwards. I was at work and very emotional. All you could hear was me yelling down the hallway "But I gave them my blood!"I got the news that I was healthy and did not need their services. I was pissed once again. I was stunned too. Mother is tinier than I am, eats super healthier than I ever have, and exercises. She was like this before she found out she was diabetic too. All day everywhere I went, out of no where I would blurt out "But I gave them my blood!" Mother just shakes her head and laughs. I did get a $10 gas card and a sandwich for "auditioning" but still...it was traumatic.
I guess it's a good thing I didn't qualify:-(...BUT I GAVE THEM MY BLOOD!!!
*Picture taken after 1st drawing of blood in the little room