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My doctor reviewed my six days of diet and exercise notes and home glucometer testing results and said that my blood sugar numbers look good. Especially the fasting numbers (first thing in the morning) which are the most critical. In her opinion, I do not have gestational diabetes. Hooray! Since I’m “so motivated,” she suggested . . . → Read More: good news on glucose testing A bit of this and that at my other location, Project Pregnancy… First I was feeling sorry for myself about how few clothes I have to wear while pregnant. Next I said a few words about just being, while being in Trimester 3. And then a few words about my impending baby shower, rev. 1. . . . → Read More: catching up: me other places He: Honey, can we talk about these dishes? Water running. He stands at sink. She walks around kitchen, finding other things to pick up and move. Anything but a dish. She: I thought it was a collaborative effort, or lack of effort. Silence, punctuated by running water and dish clangs. She exits kitchen. Time passes. . . . → Read More: last night’s fight After an encouraging phone message from my doctor (“Good for you for going for it!” she said), I decided to keep doing this crazy self-testing thing. On the up side, there is a top to the learning curve. As of dinner last night, I can now get my test done with only one lancet and . . . → Read More: glucose self-testing, day 2 After thinking it over for four days, and discussing it with your friends, doula, psychic chiropractor, and nurse practitioner, you decide you WILL take the 3-hour glucose tolerance test. At 5:45 p.m., on the evening before you plan to go in to the lab (and spend the rest of that day in bed) your doctor . . . → Read More: glucose self-testing Write a blog post about your search for the quiche of yore, and your mother’s inability to help you recreate it. Have your dad find out about the problem because he reads your blog. Suddenly, the old recipe appears: Apparently it was right there, in the old avocado green metal recipe box, filed under . . . → Read More: will the real salmon quiche please stand up? and I am a plucked chicken. I had hoped that my glucose tolerance test would turn out to be a never-you-mind sort of deal, but sadly, my “number” was too high. 149, vs. the nice 130 or below my doctor would have liked to see. I’ve been crying off-and-on about it for two days, and . . . → Read More: hope is a thing with feathers I am vainly chasing the salmon quiche of my childhood. My mother used to make it, but it’s been a LONG time, and she can’t remember the recipe anymore. I’ve been searching the internet; nothing even sounds close. The quiche I remember didn’t seem remotely egg-y or cheese-y. It was bright pink, dense with canned . . . → Read More: salmon quiche la poodle* |
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