Jean is the dietician at the diabetic clinic. She's been there since the dawn of civilization. Well..at least as long as I've been having babies which feels that long. Jean remembered me when I came back this time around. They probably don't have ladies repeat offending as many times as I have. I think she expected me to be the star pupil in class today. Was it a class? A support group? I don't know, but it was new and I didn't like it. My previous experiences with diabetic clinic was three gruelling hours of one on one time with the nurse, the dietician and then the endocrinologist. Today was three gruelling hours of me and many other pregnant diabetic chicks - most of them first timers - sitting around a table in the widest chairs I've ever encountered avoiding eye contact.
Know your target audience, I guess..
I was asked at one point to share about the experience of injecting yourself many times daily with insulin and blood tests. I went into a lively description about the fear and the bruising and after so many jabs trying to find a spot on your body that wasn't overly poked and sensitive. Turns out, that's not what she wanted the class to hear. My bad, but maybe next time pull me aside before class and inform me that you want me to actually lie about it, ok? I did figure it out mid diatribe, though, and finished it with an "ah, it's all in your head, it's not that bad" chuckle. Pretty sure damage was done as when we were being taught later on how-to and required to demonstrate that we could, one of the ladies nearly went into melt down mode and flat out refused.
I realized that I'm a bad student. I was sure I knew better than good ol' Jean who kept singing the praises of carbs (which I've spent most of my adulthood avoiding) and the Canada Food Guide. Four servings of carbs at lunch AND dinner, Jean?? You just want me to get fat. When questions were posed to the group I always knew the answer, but I'd stare in blank-faced silence at Jean along with the rest of the ladies because the answer is so obvious you can just assume that yes, I know that, Jean.
When it came time to make sure all our glucometers were calibrated correctly, we were asked to test our blood on them and then the lab would take a sample and test on their equipment. 8.2..whatever, a teensy bit high considering how long ago I ate. Wait, did I eat? Oh that's right, when Jean asked me what I'd had for lunch that day that was a lie. I'm starting to believe my own stories. Peanut butter on toast with an orange and glass of milk was quick thinking...but let's be honest, Jean, we both know I'm not - and never will - drink milk.
I didn't think much of my number until the other ladies started reading their numbers out, 4.9, 5.4, 6.1.... Aren't these ladies supposed to be diabetic? Amateurs...fist pump, I win!
I know I'm making myself sound like a pretentious little so-and-so. And I actually do really like Jean. She's super sweet. I'm sure I wasn't as bad in real life as the dialogue that was going through my head. Hell, it's possible I slept through the whole thing and everything I remember only happened in a dream. I was, after all, up most of the previous night with a sick little Quinn then got the kids to school and whisked Quinn off to be seen. Even at 4 years old she seemed humiliated by puking while being examined (though afterwards relayed the story proudly to anyone who would listen). So I showed up late to diabetic clinic, unshowered and dishevelled, and not quite sporting my regular Sara charms. The only reason I was able to show up at all was that Mike - who was also sleep deprived, unshowered and dishevelled - stayed home from work to care for Quinn and pick the kids up after school. I got a good one :)
Oh wait, before I forget...I started by saying that I did learn something. So what was it? Whenever I check nutritional labels on food (which I always do, I just don't always heed), my eyes go straight to the Total Carbohydrates line. The lower the number, the better. One serving of carbs equals 15g. I knew all this. But what I didn't know and now thanks to Jean I do, is that fibre - which is included under Total Carbs - does not raise your blood sugar. So if something has 20g of carbs but has 5g of fibre you can subtract that from the total carb number so it is still only 1 serving of carbohydrates. You guys...this changes everything! :) And that is why Jean has a university degree and I don't.
And Quinny is feeling better too! She fixed herself up and everything..which you would know if we were instagram buddies!
See? She's got her mojo back. She's still wheezing and coughing up a lot of phlegm which brings me to a funny story - she heard me sometime in the middle of the night describing the amount and colour of 'phlegm' she was coughing up to Mike. I didn't realize until morning when she was going around telling everyone she had 'lambs' that she had misunderstood what I had said.
"I have lambs, Chawlie. I'm sick cuz I coughed up lambs."
Charlie looks at me confused.
I shrug. "Yeah, that's pretty sick, Quinn."
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I'd love to stalk see what you're up to as well :)
I'm getting bigger and bigger...since I'll likely be induced and know when the baby is coming, maybe we can take bets on something else like, how many new stretch marks I end up with or what my total circumference ends up at...