Tuesday
I did business today: replaced a lost laundry card, made what will hopefully be the last call to our internet service provider, and contacted Sunshine's travel technician about having my possessions, currently in large boxes crammed into my mother's garage, shipped to Vietnam. That's one thing completely taken care of, one thing hopefully taken care of, and one long-winded bureaucratic process initiated. In the following days I'll be trying to get my official new passport. In just over two weeks I'll be heading in for an official long-winded physical. That'll be on the twenty-first and -second, by the way--just in case anyone wants to share my mounting doctor's office anxiety. What the heck happens in a two-day physical? Rumors abound; but I'm led to believe that the second day is mostly about seeing how I've swollen due to the things they've done to me on the first. Those things should involve several inoculations, tuberculosis test, x-rays, losing multiple units of blood, and probably a prostate exam. The less said about the latter the better, though I wonder if it is in bad taste to, you know, practice for that. These just aren't answers I can get off Google Images. The prep sheet these physicals indicate that we aren't allowed to eat after nine thirty the night before. These are standard instructions for surgical procedures, or dentistry, that have the patient rocked back in a chair for several hours. It guards against the aspiration of vomit, should the patient be anesthetized or otherwise incapacitated. What kind of Castle Frankenstein am I slated for, anyway? Apparently, they want me to starve myself for something, even though they plan to suck out much of my blood. So, if you see me looking pale, altered, or bowlegged, you now know why. [Cavenstein]
this had happened to Mr. Cavin by 8:22:00 AM
Then, a 4 sided conversation ensued...
The starving part is just to check your fasting blood sugar level. It is an indication of possible diabetes issues if your morning fasting blood sugar level is over 90.
To go along with the rest of your entry, having a baby and being pregnant is the best way to get over doctor anxiety because you have to...because you are there all the time. So, advice from my 9 months of constant doctors visits? Relax, bring a good book or magazine (most of the time you are sitting around), needles don't hurt as much as you think they will (we remember shots from childhood and being completely freaked out), and bring a bottle of water and a snack 'cause you are going to want to eat before you get out of there.
I have no advice for the prostate thing...good luck.
The starving part is just to check your fasting blood sugar level.
I actually didn't think of that. But still: that makes sense if you're losing the tiny little drop of blood needed to smear on a glucose test. But I am led to believe that I'll be getting a CBC and tox screens and gasses and a full chem workup, and they'll be taking four or more units. Those are numbers up around the giving blood level, and certainly one wants to have eaten when one is expecting to lose a lot of juice, right? I mean, I’m the designated driver.
You can eat after you've been bloodlet. Ellie's right: they probably want to do some fasting glucose, which is not just the little drop-of-blood-on-a-stick thing. They may, if they're fancy, do the sort of thing where they get serial draws While They Are Feeding You (I mean, not while you're actually chewing), in which case your designated driver problem is partly solved.
Also, they probably want to eliminate the possibly of all kinds of false positives and negatives that can come up with food reactions. There are a lot more of these than you'd think.
Good luck. I can't figure out a way to type that without it sounding sarcastic and hopeless, but I trust you'll know what I mean by the time you finish *this* sentence.
I totally believe you both (and it never occurred to me that they might want to do a sugar series, but this really is supposed to be a thorough check-up, so just maybe that’s the goal). I will try to dispel my ill-feeling that they are planning to implant, alter, or in some other gothic way rearrange me. No conspiracy nut here, ladies and gentlemen. Unless, you know, you are each one of them.
Thanks for the know-how and the luck, by the way.
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