3-Hour Glucose Test

Ugh! I got stuck with a needle six times today.

I had to pee in a cup and get my blood taken right when I got to the lab. No problems. Then I had to drink the yucky glucose drink and wait an hour before peeing in a cup and giving more blood. The second time to give blood, I offered my other arm.

There's nothing quite like the horror of getting a needle pushed into your arm and no blood comes out. The nurse began pushing the needle around this way and that to find the vein. I was trying to remain calm. I really do get a little panicky at the last second before the sting of the needle pierces my skin, so it was hard going.

She took out the needle and decided to try a spot on my arm just below my elbow and a little inside (the more sensitive side). My consolation prize was that she was going to use a smaller needle. It was the kind attached to a long hose that she had to screw into the plastic thing at the end that the vials get pushed into. She gets it in and the blood begins to flow on down the hose and then stops before it reaches the plastic thing at the end. Again, she pushes the needle this way and that. Only now, one of my feet is in the air and the other is stomping. And she watches a little bewildered then says "Are you OK?"

She takes the second needle out and I say, "OW!" So, no, lady, I'm not OK, but I'm still being patient and I'm still wearing the understanding face that says, "It's OK, these things sometimes happen." So then she eyes the back of my hand tells me make a fist, and gets another little needle with the hose. She sticks me again, and again has to push the needle back and forth and in this spot, it REALLY hurts. My feet are doing their thing again, and I'm saying out loud, "Oh, please, go! C'mon!" As if my blood needs verbal coaxing to come out. And then Eureka! The hose starts to fill up, and we're watching the red line make its way on and on and we're barely breathing as we watch it, silently coaxing, "Go! Go! Go!" This time the blood makes it to the end, but stops after only an inch of blood is in the vial. She shakes her head and says that it might not be enough, but my blood very specifically needs to be taken within five minutes after the hour mark. She checks with someone and, whew, it will have to do. She tells me that in the next hour, she'll have to use the same arm she did the first time.

Oh, man, I was not wanting to come back again. Did she mean in the same exact spot as the first time? Something about that doesn't seem right. Like kicking someone when they're down. I still had two more times to get stuck (at minimum) and I really needed someone to vent to. I made a friend with a lady also doing the three-hour test. She was the one to hear me complaining about the bruises I had just received--whether she wanted to or not--but I like to think that we were rooting each other on for the next two hours.

The third and fourth times I got stuck in the same spot on my first arm. It kind of sucked to first get the stinging alcohol swab over the little owie I was already sporting and then the needle goes in the same spot. Eww! I was so relieved to see my blood flowing without any problems.

Driving home, I could barely grip the steering wheel for the bruise on the back of my right hand. I'm worn out! I feel like I survived a great ordeal. Kind of like a child who just got immunization shots. I think I'll go lie down now and dream that I passed this test or plead with God to make it so.