Tricky, tricky glucose drink...who knew? You weigh in at a mere 10oz and I...well, let's just say I currently weigh in at 10oz plus. You come in three enticing (at least for Kool Aid) flavors: lemon-lime, orange, and tropical punch. You are handed to me slightly chilled from the fridge. You aren't even incredibly offensive...that is until the first sip has settled.
Now I have to say I chose lemon-lime, taking into consideration that even sick people drink lemon-lime due to the slim chance that it will induce vomiting. But typically people don't leave a bottle of lemon-lime awesomeness in the the glove box of a black Suburban in an Arizona summer. That my friend is you dear Glucose Drink. You are incredibly deceiving and I don't appreciate the false sense of confidence you promoted in me. I also don't appreciate a five minute time limit to down your sugary venom, or the fact that when I handed your empty bottle back to the nurse (consciously holding back bile) she looked and said, "oh, looks like you left just a little bit left in there." SERIOUSLY!!! and then I get the opportunity to get my blood drawn...YIPPEEE!!
I know that pregnancy has made me just a tad bit more dramatic but I'm pretty sure that they do endless rounds of Glucose Tests and blood work in the the third rung of hell.
I'm just saying,
Kimiko
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