Fasting Blood Test

It's that time again.

Pre-diabetes appointment bloodwork time.

Only this time, it's also cholesterol-testing time which means...fasting.

Bleh.

Fasting and diabetes go as well together as...oysters and Cheerios.

On Sunday night I went to bed knowing that I had to get my bloodwork done by Friday at the latest to ensure that it made it to my doctor on time for my appointment. I went to bed knowing that whatever morning I woke up with a blood sugar above 4.5, without having had a low in the middle of the night, I was going to have to skip my run or my swim and go sit in a waiting room with a lot of other people, feeling more and more cranky as the minutes ticked by and my stomach growled with hunger.

I went to bed on Sunday night with well-behaved blood sugar. I woke up right around midnight with a BG of 5.0. I had four Dex4s to keep me in range.

I woke up in the morning with a BG of 7.0. My blood test requisition said that I had to fast for 8 hours and between my Dex4s at midnight a test at 8am, I figured I was good to go.

No swim for me, it was blood work day.

I got up, showered, packed my lunch and my breakfast shake that Doug made me and headed out just after 7:45am. I didn't take a coffee with me because I usually have to wait at least 30 minutes for bloodwork and I hate cold coffee. And reheated coffee.

That's when it hit me. Friday we got walloped by a huge snow storm. I'm sure anyone needing bloodwork would not have ventured out in that mess. Saturday the world was covered in snow and the roads were iffy - no one was going to the clinic unless absolutely necessary.

It was Monday morning after two days of snow. The lab was going to be insane.

Dammit! I had already missed my swim and my blood sugar was surprisingly well-behaved. I was going to have to brave the crowds and get'er done.

I took a deep breath and opened the lab door.

Empty.

As in, not a soul.

I walked up to the counter in a bit of a daze. They took my paperwork, handed me a cup to pee in and were waiting outside the bathroom door when I emerged - ready to take my blood.

It was eerily quiet. I felt like I was in some weird zombie movie where there are hardly any humans left in the world.

I was back in my car in under 6 minutes and had enough time to drive home, grab a mug of coffee and still get to work at my regular time.

I'm going to hold on to that fabulous memory the next time I head to the clinic, see a lineup snaking down the hall and my stomach starts screaming for its breakfast.