Dear Gluocodex...I did not know you were akin to magic mushrooms...

What a strange and unusual thing you are Gluocodex. A sickly sweet and painfully potent cocktail of sugar, water and orange flavoured sugar.....did I mention the sugar?

This morning I drank you. I drank 500 ml's of you, and sat, and waited for the longest hour of my entire life, I waited. I am not sure what I was waiting for, but the nice ladies in the blue scrubs and dangerously comfortable shoes assured me I needed to wait. I had an hour to pass, so I thought to myself, I shall read my book. I should have known better.

My book is close to 600 pages long. In tiny font. I'm reading Wicked for the book club and I've only a month left to get through the remaining 460 pages...with Christmas and New Years peppered in there for distraction. So I thought 1 hour of uninterrupted reading time - PRIME. Even better that it was occurring during the day, when I was supposed to be at work.

But I neglected to realize the psychedelic effect that much sugar would have on my body. I'm not a sugar person by nature. Sure here and there I indulge, and over Christmas there have been many an opportunity to do just that. But overall, I am not a sugar eater. And regardless, that is more sugar than any human has ever ingested willingly, in one sitting. And this includes the time my sister stole a box of Pot of Gold chocolates from under the grandparents Christmas tree, and ate the evidence in an hour, before anyone could find out. Too bad for her, she neglected to also eat the box and wrappers.

As usual, I digress. Whatever is in that cavity inducing beverage (at least they chill it for you, but no vodka) made my head spin. And not in a "I'm feeling a little dizzy" type way, but in such a bad way, I felt the need to reach up and make sure it wasn't literally spinning like a top. It wasn't, but it felt like it. The lights got brighter and dimmer, and I started to see things I'm pretty sure weren't there. Between the sparkly lights of the clinic waiting room, and the medicinal smell, I started to wonder if I'd passed into another realm.

So I sat, pretending to read my book, praying that this would not be the first time in my pregnancy I needed to uncontrollably vomit. Something about that orange syrup mixed with this morning Cheerios, spewed all over the shiny white floors seemed uncivilized.

Lucky for me, I manages to avoid projectile vomit, but that hour was no more tolerable for it. I spun, got dizzy and of course became increasing hungry. I wanted to lie down, or at the very least curl up on the chair, but I couldn't. I couldn't because those chairs are plastic and uncomfortable, and lets face it, a lot of sick people sit in them. The uncomfortable nature of this mornings events were further compounded by my inability to cross my legs. Well I mean it's certainly not that I CAN'T cross them, but I'm trying my hardest not to. These road map spider veins aren't going to get any better on their own, and I'm doing my best not to further anger them. But have you ever tried to not cross your legs? As a woman I find it easier to stop blinking or breathing that to avoid the natural tendency to cross my legs. I hate it, I just want to cross them, but I also want to wear skirts again one day, so I have to suffer a little longer without it. I'm hoping I break the habit all together by then, but so far it's not looking good.

The only one of us who seemed to enjoy this mornings adventure was the little one. She sucked that sugar back like the drug it truly is, and spent the better part of the hour getting her groove on. I'm not sure where she learned her dance moves, but it unfortunately feels like she learned them from Elaine on Seinfeld. Here's to hoping she gets some of her fathers musical aptitude after all. She is now resting, after such a high, and so she should. I'm just jealous I have no where to curl up and sleep. I feel like I'm doing all the work in this relationship, but I suppose in her defense, she IS working on becoming a fully functional whole person, so I'll cut her some slack.

In any event, there I sat, baby girl kicking me fiendishly from the inside, my head swimming, my heart racing. I sat - dizzy, tired, hungry and uncomfortable, watching the seconds tick by. I swear at least twice I saw them stop ticking all together. When it was all said and done, the nice lady took my blood and sent me on my way. And that was it. An hour of time spent, and a 30 second test.

I've got to wait to find out the results, but I'm crossing all my crossables (with the exception of my legs, those are virtually crossed) that I don't have to go back for the dreaded 3 hour test. Because if I have to see spots like that for 3 hours, I'm surely going to puke. And I haven't puked since I was a kid.