Today I am undergoing yet another prenatal test: a blood sugar test to check for gestational diabetes. My doctor recommended doing this test a little earlier than is typically requested, both because of family history (my great-grandmother on my mother's side died of complications from diabetes) and because I've been experiencing excessive thirst. I know you're supposed to get thirstier when you're pregnant, so I'm not sure if the level of my thirst is normal or not.
To take the test, I had to go without eating for 12 hours and then have a sample of my blood drawn. That portion of the test is finished. Then I was told to go eat and come back two hours after I'd eaten. I'm in the process of doing that now: biding my time in a nearby Internet cafe until it's time to return.
Last night, I had some truly bizarre dreams, at least some of which were clearly anxiety dreams. For the first part of the evening, I kept dreaming about phlebotomists removing large amounts of blood from me. In the clearest of these dreams, they took an entire bag full, as if I were donating blood.
I was in a large, waiting-room type area, brightly lit (which I know is patterned off the initial intake room at my main hospital). The nurse took a bag full of blood and then had me hold a large stainless-steel bowl for her (much like the ones in our kitchen), while she dumped it all out. The blood was frothy and pinkish, looking almost like a strawberry smoothie. I dipped a finger in, and it was sugary sweet.
She told me that she had to go put it through the centrifuge, and then they'd give me some fluid back. This part of the dream was based on the few times I sold plasma at Sera Tech Biological, back in college (now apparently BioLife Plasma Services). There would be a room full of beds where students were lying, tubes coming out of their arms, as they listened to their Walk-Men or read. The techs would take a bag full of blood, centrifuge out the plasma, and return the fluid. While you were waiting for your blood to be returned, they'd pump saline into your veins. Cold saline. I only did it a few times, but it clearly made an impression.
In this dream, though, they were not as well organized. I wasn't lying on a bed waiting for my fluids to be returned; instead I was just walking around. In fact, I even got in my car and was driving away before I remembered, "Hey, I have to go back and have my fluids put back."
Fortunately, I am happy to report that, at least so far, they have only filled one smallish vial.
Don't fall asleep thinking about medical procedures.