My week so far...
Alright...I didn't post anything about my visit to the counselors on Monday because quite frankly I needed a day of "cooling off" since I was so angry. But I never got around to posting about it on Tuesday either so, here it is Thursday and I'll recap...
FYI - This post will have something in it I'm sure to offend someone so let this serve as your only warning. I'm going to say what's on my mind and if you don't like it then stop reading...end of story. Also, this rant is LOOOOONNNGGGGGGG__________
First of all, you know (for those of you who have been following right along with my 3rd trimester drama) how I said, "Well if I have gestational diabetes, so be it, it's not the end of the world...it'll only be for 8 weeks" blah blah blah or something along those lines? Well, it's not just for 8 weeks. No, not in my case anyway, because I'm going to be breastfeeding my kidlet and I must maintain this "diet" until I'm done with that. So we're talking the next 8 months of my life here folks. Yes, in the long run, 8 months vs. the rest of my life is like nothing, but again I'm just getting things off my chest. I may disable comments on this post too as I am just putting this out there and not necessarily wanting any feedback - good or bad. We'll see what kind of mood I'm in after I'm done typing this up.
Let's start from when I left work on Monday.
It was 1:15pm and I had our other car to drive. This car has a broken driver's side window (it doesn't go down) and it also doesn't have any AC. No big deal right? Wrong. After an hour and 15 min's in the vehicle with just the one window down and the fan blowing, I was about to murder someone. I was so hot my face was bright red and puffy, my ankles were puffy and my hands were puffy, plus I was drenched in sweat - GROSS! I got to the hospital where the class was being held a bit early so I'm thinking, "Great, at least I can cool down in the room." So I go into the hospital and up to the first floor only to find out that I have to back down to the ground floor. *grumbles* Mind you, I'm carrying my purse (the monster thing that it is for anyone who knows me in real life) plus my "Baby on the Way" bag full of stuff that I may or may not need for this class. Anyway, I go to the elevators where I find 3 women (nurses? medical staff?) just coming off their shift at work all singsong and chirpy and they see me. They suddenly think it's appropriate to strike up a humorous conversation with me. They started saying stuff like, "We're on our way out but we can show you to the OR or something..." while giggling. I'm sorry but I'm like the movie Fight Club...I have rules - 1st rule is If Dolores doesn't make eye contact with you, she's not interested in making small talk with you...period. They don't seem to care. So then they said, "Are you looking for the maternity ward?" in that cute singsong kind of voice that makes me want to poke their eyes out with a ballpoint pen. "No, I know where I'm going...thanks." That's all I said, and one lady turns to the other and says, "Moody, isn't she?" I snapped. I said, "Look, you're not in my head and you don't know me or my situation. I'm having some trials here during my last trimester and if you don't mind I don't need folks trying to joke around with me at this time." They looked really stunned but dude, if you don't know someone why the fuck would you try "joking around" with them?! Pfft. That shit pisses me off more than anything. Don't assume that just because you're happy that everyone around you will be too. Meh.
So now that I have this hugely chip on my shoulder, I find the meeting room and go have a seat(which by the way, get this - we're meeting to discuss DIABETIC counseling and changing eating habits and such, so why the fuck would they have this meeting take place IN THE FUCKING CAFETERIA RIGHT BY THE DESSERT STATION???! I mean, yes it was an actual room we were in but we had to walk past all the foods that are now striken from our diets. Who was the genius who came up with that concept?).
I was the only one there and it was 2:35pm. We were to start our paperwork at 2:45pm and somehow I had this feeling things were NOT going to get started on time. Now, I pulled out a book and begin to read...2nd rule of Dolores...If she is reading (of all things) she doesn't want to make small talk with you. In walks the only other person who is going to be in this "group class" - why they couldn't just schedule one-on-one counseling is beyond me. Anyway, she's dressed quite sloppily and doesn't have a purse or anything but a small notebook - the kind that fits into your backpocket. She asks me if this is the right place for counseling, and I reply with "Guess so, it's Meeting Room A" and she's all ready to have a conversation with me. I kinda' shrug her off and she gets the hint I'm not one for chit chat. So she sits and plays with her notebook, but she has no pen. Whatevah. *shrugs*
About 15 min's pass by and finally our Diabetic Counselor shows up. Now I had some expectations in my head already on what this person may be like, and I found out I was way wrong. I was thinking that someone in this position (a stereotype, yes, so what?) would be fit and thin and well I dunno just not what walked into the room. Instead there was a dumpy 4'10" chick (probably about 25 or 26 years old) who had thinning hair that was dyed red (awful color on her too if you ask me) and was a good 270 lbs. Umm...yeah ok - I'm supposed to listen to HER tell me what to do? *attitude supreme sets in* Ok, the topper was that this woman comes in sipping a 32 oz. soda - something else we're not supposed to have anymore. HOW FRIGGIN' RUDE CAN YOU BE? Or could it be she is just that dense? Dunno...we'll soon find out I guess. So she starts handing us our paperwork that needs to be filled out asap. While we're doing that she asks for our insurance cards. I give her mine and then the other chick says, "My husband keeps all my stuff because I would lose it otherwise." Christine, our counselor, says she'll give a call to the OB/GYN to get the info she needs then. A few moments later she comes back with my card and lays it down and proceeds to put a box, a piece of pink paper, and a small purple thing that kinda looked like a tiny condom package in front of me. Then she places the same in front of the other chick. After we're done filling out our forms, it's now 3:15pm, she explains why we're there. "You both have Gestational Diabetes and I'm going to tell you what you need to do to control your blood sugar. Judy will be in after me to tell you about your new diet and give you all the nutrition information you will need." *bomb explodes in my head* I raised my hand. "So we DO actually have it then? I mean, my dr's office never said that - they just said I was testing at high levels, " I said. She's all heartless and just says, "Yep, you have it." That's it - right there cold as ice. *head is still exploding just with that news* So now, the other chick chimes in and says, "Oh ok that's good to know." Suck up. Here's the kicker too about this chick. She's on assistance, so she has Medicaid and the WIC program and as a result she gets all this "top of the line" stuff handed to her on a silver platter while I get told, "I don't know how Blue Cross works with this so just take your prescription to the pharmacy and see what happens." MOTHER FUCKER! I'm getting even more pissed. So the first thing she does is show us how to monitor our blood sugar with these fandangled meter things. Not once, twice, or three times a day - NOOO, make that 4 finger pricks per day! *OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH* Plus we have to pee on a stick every morning for the next 5 days...*shrugs*
Now the whole time she's lecturing us on this diabetic stuff she doesn't make any eye contact at all. Instead she'd look up at the ceiling or down at the floor or play with her dry erase marker, shit like that. I HATE WHEN PEOPLE DON'T MAKE SOME SORT OF EYE CONTACT...it's a pet peeve of mine I guess. Although she started late, she wrapped up in time, right at 4pm when the dietician was to start her stuff with us. Well, the dietician showed up about 15 min's before 4pm and spread out some fake food on the table and got to work on some papers she had. When Christine told Judy she was done, Judy (that's the dietician) said she needed 10 more minutes. Goddammit - I knew I wouldn't be getting out of there by 5pm as scheduled! So with that, Christine starts blabbing about who knows what because quite honestly I zoned out that last 10 min's of her speaking.
About quarter after 4pm then Judy takes over. She starts in with stuff like telling us the difference between carbs, proteins, fats, and crap like that. Then she gives us these food exchange books and starts walking us through what's what and showing us examples of serving sizes with the pretend food. I was truly lost during this last hour and I could think about was how I wished Michael could have been there with me for this. I'm lousy at math and fractions and it seemed the more questions I asked the more pissed and annoyed this woman got so I clammed up. Now the other chicky evidently has a diabetic mom and grandmother whom she had lived with so she has all this experience with diabetic crap. Well, the dietician and her just chummed it up after that. I just sat there with this blank look on my face I'm sure. After all was said and done, which was around 5:30pm by then, I asked one more time, "I'm still not understanding how these menus work and how one doesn't lose weight while on this diet," she kinda' snapped at me and said, "Just follow the menus I gave you, ok? - Use Menu 1 for Monday, Menu 2 for Tuesday and alternate...that's it." FUCK YOU BIATCH! I so wanted to give her the finger right then and there but I thought it best to leave and just go have a good cry about this shit. But I didn't cry. Instead I was freaked out by the amount of rain that was now coming down outside and I had no umbrella. UGH! I took my time getting out to the parking lot and lo and behold, The Good Lord does love me, because the rain stopped while I went to the car. No sooner did I turn the key and the skies opened up again it starts to downpour. I get to my mom's place (where I was having dinner that night before going back to Reading) and I'm all depressed but you know what? My mom pulled through for me. She made me a killer "last supper" of sorts. It was all of my favorite Puerto Rican foods and then some! So like a pig I chowed down since as of Tuesday morning I would be forced to eat what the menu dictates. I was so happy I didn't think of anything but how wonderful my mom was to do that for me.
When I finally made it home to Reading, I took care of putting Ariel to bed and then sat down with Michael to talk about everything I went through with the counselors. I was on the verge of tears when he said, "Let me look at the stuff and help you, ok?" And my goodness, does he friggin' ROCK! He understood everything and was able to explain it all to me in a matter of 15 min's. WHAT A LUCKY GAL I AM TO HAVE MICHAEL FOR MY HUBBY! Plus he's very supportive and let me vent about the other chick and how she got all this stuff while I had to shell out $50 to pick up the stuff I needed at the pharmacy, yada yada yada. He made me realize that we're lucky and fortunate and that we shouldn't care about those who get assistance because we have it all, as long as we have each other. *sobs*
So now Tuesday comes and goes and nothing eventful happened. Well, except my co-workers asking all sorts of questions about my gestational diabetes and wanting to watch me prick myself for my blood sugar testing and such. My work family - they're zany but great. They even said they won't bother having any cake for my baby shower next week because they want me to be happy. See what I mean?
Tuesday night however was a bit different. Ariel's voice was getting more hoarse and her nose was running like the dickens. Oh boy. She's had diarherria (sp?) now for about 3 or 4 days but no cold symptoms whatsoever, now it seems to be moving on up. Overnight she was up 3 times hacking her poor little lungs out and crying how her nose hurts and throat hurts. So by morning she could hardly talk and was congested pretty bad. Knowing the "runny nose" policy at her daycare, I called off from work and called her off from school. We stayed home Wednesday but I still had my OB/GYN appointment in Allentown at 5pm so I had to take her with me. We left and I dropped her off at my mom's while I went to see the dr. I met with one of the midwives in the office that I don't particularly care for. So this is mainly a sit down and chat kinda' visit.
She first discusses my weight - or lack thereof this time since I lost a whole 2 lbs since my last visit two weeks ago. I explained to her that on that day it was mondo hot and I was puffy. She's like, "Oh" and shrugs. Then we talk about the diabetes thing and she starts lecturing me about my high numbers on my BS (blood sugar) readings and I had to stop her to remind her that I just started this diet on Tuesday. Another "Oh" comes out. Then she measures my belly and I'm measuring bigger than what I actually am, so I remind her that I am overweight and ask her, "Wouldn't my body fat add to the size?" She shrugs. I hate this broad. Then we discuss this paper she gives me about pre-checking in at the hospital. I tell her that I have the date for my surgery already and she's all surprised and was clearly put off by the fact that I'm scheduled already this far out. She actually had to go check in the surgery book to find out that I wasn't making this shit up. WHAT A FUCKING TWAT! Yeah, I'm not a happy camper with this visit by the end. Then lastly she comments on me picking out a pediatrician and I remind her that I have another child and that's taken care of so she pratically slams down that sheet of paper that she obviously doesn't need to give me now. Perhaps she was having a bad day? I dunno...don't care. She's a bitch and that's all there needs to be said about that.
This brings us to today...Ariel was running a fever overnight and into this morning. Thus we both stayed home again. Good news though - her nose isn't running much and her coughing has nearly stopped. She's just way lethargic today. She has no appetite either. Poor thing. She's napping now and went to sleep without lunch because she just wasn't hungry.
FYI - This post will have something in it I'm sure to offend someone so let this serve as your only warning. I'm going to say what's on my mind and if you don't like it then stop reading...end of story. Also, this rant is LOOOOONNNGGGGGGG__________
First of all, you know (for those of you who have been following right along with my 3rd trimester drama) how I said, "Well if I have gestational diabetes, so be it, it's not the end of the world...it'll only be for 8 weeks" blah blah blah or something along those lines? Well, it's not just for 8 weeks. No, not in my case anyway, because I'm going to be breastfeeding my kidlet and I must maintain this "diet" until I'm done with that. So we're talking the next 8 months of my life here folks. Yes, in the long run, 8 months vs. the rest of my life is like nothing, but again I'm just getting things off my chest. I may disable comments on this post too as I am just putting this out there and not necessarily wanting any feedback - good or bad. We'll see what kind of mood I'm in after I'm done typing this up.
Let's start from when I left work on Monday.
It was 1:15pm and I had our other car to drive. This car has a broken driver's side window (it doesn't go down) and it also doesn't have any AC. No big deal right? Wrong. After an hour and 15 min's in the vehicle with just the one window down and the fan blowing, I was about to murder someone. I was so hot my face was bright red and puffy, my ankles were puffy and my hands were puffy, plus I was drenched in sweat - GROSS! I got to the hospital where the class was being held a bit early so I'm thinking, "Great, at least I can cool down in the room." So I go into the hospital and up to the first floor only to find out that I have to back down to the ground floor. *grumbles* Mind you, I'm carrying my purse (the monster thing that it is for anyone who knows me in real life) plus my "Baby on the Way" bag full of stuff that I may or may not need for this class. Anyway, I go to the elevators where I find 3 women (nurses? medical staff?) just coming off their shift at work all singsong and chirpy and they see me. They suddenly think it's appropriate to strike up a humorous conversation with me. They started saying stuff like, "We're on our way out but we can show you to the OR or something..." while giggling. I'm sorry but I'm like the movie Fight Club...I have rules - 1st rule is If Dolores doesn't make eye contact with you, she's not interested in making small talk with you...period. They don't seem to care. So then they said, "Are you looking for the maternity ward?" in that cute singsong kind of voice that makes me want to poke their eyes out with a ballpoint pen. "No, I know where I'm going...thanks." That's all I said, and one lady turns to the other and says, "Moody, isn't she?" I snapped. I said, "Look, you're not in my head and you don't know me or my situation. I'm having some trials here during my last trimester and if you don't mind I don't need folks trying to joke around with me at this time." They looked really stunned but dude, if you don't know someone why the fuck would you try "joking around" with them?! Pfft. That shit pisses me off more than anything. Don't assume that just because you're happy that everyone around you will be too. Meh.
So now that I have this hugely chip on my shoulder, I find the meeting room and go have a seat(which by the way, get this - we're meeting to discuss DIABETIC counseling and changing eating habits and such, so why the fuck would they have this meeting take place IN THE FUCKING CAFETERIA RIGHT BY THE DESSERT STATION???! I mean, yes it was an actual room we were in but we had to walk past all the foods that are now striken from our diets. Who was the genius who came up with that concept?).
I was the only one there and it was 2:35pm. We were to start our paperwork at 2:45pm and somehow I had this feeling things were NOT going to get started on time. Now, I pulled out a book and begin to read...2nd rule of Dolores...If she is reading (of all things) she doesn't want to make small talk with you. In walks the only other person who is going to be in this "group class" - why they couldn't just schedule one-on-one counseling is beyond me. Anyway, she's dressed quite sloppily and doesn't have a purse or anything but a small notebook - the kind that fits into your backpocket. She asks me if this is the right place for counseling, and I reply with "Guess so, it's Meeting Room A" and she's all ready to have a conversation with me. I kinda' shrug her off and she gets the hint I'm not one for chit chat. So she sits and plays with her notebook, but she has no pen. Whatevah. *shrugs*
About 15 min's pass by and finally our Diabetic Counselor shows up. Now I had some expectations in my head already on what this person may be like, and I found out I was way wrong. I was thinking that someone in this position (a stereotype, yes, so what?) would be fit and thin and well I dunno just not what walked into the room. Instead there was a dumpy 4'10" chick (probably about 25 or 26 years old) who had thinning hair that was dyed red (awful color on her too if you ask me) and was a good 270 lbs. Umm...yeah ok - I'm supposed to listen to HER tell me what to do? *attitude supreme sets in* Ok, the topper was that this woman comes in sipping a 32 oz. soda - something else we're not supposed to have anymore. HOW FRIGGIN' RUDE CAN YOU BE? Or could it be she is just that dense? Dunno...we'll soon find out I guess. So she starts handing us our paperwork that needs to be filled out asap. While we're doing that she asks for our insurance cards. I give her mine and then the other chick says, "My husband keeps all my stuff because I would lose it otherwise." Christine, our counselor, says she'll give a call to the OB/GYN to get the info she needs then. A few moments later she comes back with my card and lays it down and proceeds to put a box, a piece of pink paper, and a small purple thing that kinda looked like a tiny condom package in front of me. Then she places the same in front of the other chick. After we're done filling out our forms, it's now 3:15pm, she explains why we're there. "You both have Gestational Diabetes and I'm going to tell you what you need to do to control your blood sugar. Judy will be in after me to tell you about your new diet and give you all the nutrition information you will need." *bomb explodes in my head* I raised my hand. "So we DO actually have it then? I mean, my dr's office never said that - they just said I was testing at high levels, " I said. She's all heartless and just says, "Yep, you have it." That's it - right there cold as ice. *head is still exploding just with that news* So now, the other chick chimes in and says, "Oh ok that's good to know." Suck up. Here's the kicker too about this chick. She's on assistance, so she has Medicaid and the WIC program and as a result she gets all this "top of the line" stuff handed to her on a silver platter while I get told, "I don't know how Blue Cross works with this so just take your prescription to the pharmacy and see what happens." MOTHER FUCKER! I'm getting even more pissed. So the first thing she does is show us how to monitor our blood sugar with these fandangled meter things. Not once, twice, or three times a day - NOOO, make that 4 finger pricks per day! *OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH* Plus we have to pee on a stick every morning for the next 5 days...*shrugs*
Now the whole time she's lecturing us on this diabetic stuff she doesn't make any eye contact at all. Instead she'd look up at the ceiling or down at the floor or play with her dry erase marker, shit like that. I HATE WHEN PEOPLE DON'T MAKE SOME SORT OF EYE CONTACT...it's a pet peeve of mine I guess. Although she started late, she wrapped up in time, right at 4pm when the dietician was to start her stuff with us. Well, the dietician showed up about 15 min's before 4pm and spread out some fake food on the table and got to work on some papers she had. When Christine told Judy she was done, Judy (that's the dietician) said she needed 10 more minutes. Goddammit - I knew I wouldn't be getting out of there by 5pm as scheduled! So with that, Christine starts blabbing about who knows what because quite honestly I zoned out that last 10 min's of her speaking.
About quarter after 4pm then Judy takes over. She starts in with stuff like telling us the difference between carbs, proteins, fats, and crap like that. Then she gives us these food exchange books and starts walking us through what's what and showing us examples of serving sizes with the pretend food. I was truly lost during this last hour and I could think about was how I wished Michael could have been there with me for this. I'm lousy at math and fractions and it seemed the more questions I asked the more pissed and annoyed this woman got so I clammed up. Now the other chicky evidently has a diabetic mom and grandmother whom she had lived with so she has all this experience with diabetic crap. Well, the dietician and her just chummed it up after that. I just sat there with this blank look on my face I'm sure. After all was said and done, which was around 5:30pm by then, I asked one more time, "I'm still not understanding how these menus work and how one doesn't lose weight while on this diet," she kinda' snapped at me and said, "Just follow the menus I gave you, ok? - Use Menu 1 for Monday, Menu 2 for Tuesday and alternate...that's it." FUCK YOU BIATCH! I so wanted to give her the finger right then and there but I thought it best to leave and just go have a good cry about this shit. But I didn't cry. Instead I was freaked out by the amount of rain that was now coming down outside and I had no umbrella. UGH! I took my time getting out to the parking lot and lo and behold, The Good Lord does love me, because the rain stopped while I went to the car. No sooner did I turn the key and the skies opened up again it starts to downpour. I get to my mom's place (where I was having dinner that night before going back to Reading) and I'm all depressed but you know what? My mom pulled through for me. She made me a killer "last supper" of sorts. It was all of my favorite Puerto Rican foods and then some! So like a pig I chowed down since as of Tuesday morning I would be forced to eat what the menu dictates. I was so happy I didn't think of anything but how wonderful my mom was to do that for me.
When I finally made it home to Reading, I took care of putting Ariel to bed and then sat down with Michael to talk about everything I went through with the counselors. I was on the verge of tears when he said, "Let me look at the stuff and help you, ok?" And my goodness, does he friggin' ROCK! He understood everything and was able to explain it all to me in a matter of 15 min's. WHAT A LUCKY GAL I AM TO HAVE MICHAEL FOR MY HUBBY! Plus he's very supportive and let me vent about the other chick and how she got all this stuff while I had to shell out $50 to pick up the stuff I needed at the pharmacy, yada yada yada. He made me realize that we're lucky and fortunate and that we shouldn't care about those who get assistance because we have it all, as long as we have each other. *sobs*
So now Tuesday comes and goes and nothing eventful happened. Well, except my co-workers asking all sorts of questions about my gestational diabetes and wanting to watch me prick myself for my blood sugar testing and such. My work family - they're zany but great. They even said they won't bother having any cake for my baby shower next week because they want me to be happy. See what I mean?
Tuesday night however was a bit different. Ariel's voice was getting more hoarse and her nose was running like the dickens. Oh boy. She's had diarherria (sp?) now for about 3 or 4 days but no cold symptoms whatsoever, now it seems to be moving on up. Overnight she was up 3 times hacking her poor little lungs out and crying how her nose hurts and throat hurts. So by morning she could hardly talk and was congested pretty bad. Knowing the "runny nose" policy at her daycare, I called off from work and called her off from school. We stayed home Wednesday but I still had my OB/GYN appointment in Allentown at 5pm so I had to take her with me. We left and I dropped her off at my mom's while I went to see the dr. I met with one of the midwives in the office that I don't particularly care for. So this is mainly a sit down and chat kinda' visit.
She first discusses my weight - or lack thereof this time since I lost a whole 2 lbs since my last visit two weeks ago. I explained to her that on that day it was mondo hot and I was puffy. She's like, "Oh" and shrugs. Then we talk about the diabetes thing and she starts lecturing me about my high numbers on my BS (blood sugar) readings and I had to stop her to remind her that I just started this diet on Tuesday. Another "Oh" comes out. Then she measures my belly and I'm measuring bigger than what I actually am, so I remind her that I am overweight and ask her, "Wouldn't my body fat add to the size?" She shrugs. I hate this broad. Then we discuss this paper she gives me about pre-checking in at the hospital. I tell her that I have the date for my surgery already and she's all surprised and was clearly put off by the fact that I'm scheduled already this far out. She actually had to go check in the surgery book to find out that I wasn't making this shit up. WHAT A FUCKING TWAT! Yeah, I'm not a happy camper with this visit by the end. Then lastly she comments on me picking out a pediatrician and I remind her that I have another child and that's taken care of so she pratically slams down that sheet of paper that she obviously doesn't need to give me now. Perhaps she was having a bad day? I dunno...don't care. She's a bitch and that's all there needs to be said about that.
This brings us to today...Ariel was running a fever overnight and into this morning. Thus we both stayed home again. Good news though - her nose isn't running much and her coughing has nearly stopped. She's just way lethargic today. She has no appetite either. Poor thing. She's napping now and went to sleep without lunch because she just wasn't hungry.