There is a reason why I will never be skinny or make it as a contestant on the Bachelor. I like to eat. If I go for more than a few hours without eating, I need to be unconscious or I will get HUNGRY. By hungry, I mean that I will harm you if you are standing between me and food.
Over the years, I have heard about people who forget to eat. I envy these people. I plan meals days ahead of time. I have decided what I’m having for breakfast tomorrow (egg whites and spinach). I have never, ever forgotten to eat.
Then, there are those people who don’t really like to eat. Barry Manilow was on the Martha Stewart show a few years ago when he admitted to being one of these people. He let Martha make him a sandwich, after she pestered him about eating something. Martha Stewart. A sandwich? No wonder he is skinny. I envy people who do not enjoy food.
This is why I don’t DO fasting blood work well (and I will probably struggle with that upcoming “prep” but I will try not to write about that). After 12 hours without eating, I could probably bite someone without ingesting “bath salts” first. I really thought I was going to pass out and starve to death yesterday morning.
I PURPOSELY made my appointment for 7:00 AM. Yes, my doctor’s office is open at 7, which makes me kind of sad and kind of happy. It was still dark when I got there, which made the lack of coffee worse. I was armed with a cereal bar in my purse, and plans to hit a McDonald’s drive through. I assumed that they would draw my blood immediately, and then I could scarf down my cereal bar before the “physical” portion of my appointment. I was wrong.
You see, as the medical assistant explained, they like to have the doctor do the examination first so they can be sure that they are doing the proper blood tests. That makes perfect sense to me now that I am not starving to death. Yesterday morning at 7:05, that horrified me. The eating would be delayed. NO!
OK. OK. I calmed myself down. I told myself that the children in Iraq were crying for me, and that I should just “buck up.” So, the doctor came in and started flipping though my chart and asking me questions. These weren’t any old questions. They involved numbers. Honestly, I am surprised she didn’t add drug test to my list of blood work as I could barely form complete sentences.
Sometime during this questioning, it was determined that I should have an EKG. OK. This would delay my McDonald’s drive through, but I could probably eat my cereal bar DURING the EKG. Because OF COURSE they will draw my blood first, right?
NOPE. They did the EKG first. It’s a good thing I had to lay down for that because I was getting woozy at this point. Is woozy even a real word? Anyway, the EKG seemed to take forever. When that was done, finally, finally, I got to sit in the special chair and get the needle in my arm.
That is when I noticed the 4 empty tubes. Really, 4 tubes of blood now? I started having visions of me passing out due to low blood sugar on my way to my car. I envisioned being robbed, kidnapped, or legitimately raped. You name it. I was never going to survive this doctor’s visit.
At this point, I mentioned the cereal bar. I had to give the woman fair warning that she was standing between food and me. To be honest, I don’t even like cereal bars, but I didn’t think that scrambled eggs would travel well. The medical assistant apologized for not doing the blood work before the EKG. Duh! As soon as she got the bandage on my arm, that cereal bar was in my mouth. It was after 8 by this time. I am lucky to be alive.