prescription soda

Yum, yum. Today I had my gestational diabetes screen, which involved drinking 10 ounces of an Orange Crush-like soda and then waiting around for a hour to see if my body freaked out. Actually, I just had to wait an hour for the insulin to start a-pumpin', then they drew three vials of blood and sent me on my way.

How sweet is this drink? As you can see by the bottle (which, for some reason, the lab wouldn't throw away or recycle for me), it contains 50 grams of dextrose crammed in 10 ounces of carbonated goodness. A 12 ounce can of Coca-Cola Classic contains 40 grams of sucrose. I'm not sure how dextrose vs. sucrose works out, but I assure you that the drink was far, far too sweet for the likes of me. (And, recall, I am a bit of a sugar fiend.)

Note: It's for prescription use only.

I actually kind of did have an adverse reaction to the drink - I think mostly because I had to gulp it down in less than five minutes. About ten minutes after finishing the drink, my heart started racing and I felt a little dizzy. Bad sign? We'll find out in a few days.

The back label of this bottle is pretty funny. I'm fond of "to enhance palatability, chill before serving." I also get a kick out of, "instruct the patient to remain quiet," after consuming the bottle.

BDR, bladder kicker

Among BDR's favorite pastimes include kicking (or punching) my bladder. It's really one of the most bizarre sensations. It's also possibly one of the least comfortable experiences, especially since I'm constantly in a state of needing to go to the restroom.

Kevin's suggested that BDR could be using my full bladder like a moonbounce or a tram-pamp-o-line.

Because of BDR's proclivity to punt my bladder, I'd been working on a theory she's in breech position. I reason the kicks on my bladder are much stronger than the "kicks" at my ribs, and thus the "kicks" at my ribs are really just punches. BDR's more Mia Hamm than Mike Tyson.

That is, until I saw this picture:
So, I think BDR's flipped around (her spine toward my spine), which gives her a straight shot toward my bladder. I still haven't figured out the ribs bit, though.

it's for your protection, really

Look, some people want to see millions of pictures of Baby Davis-Ross. Every day, if possible. They'd also like to hear every minute accomplishment of her day.

Others? Not so much.

I can't promise that the other blog will be a baby-free zone. But, I can promise there will be no "poopy" talk.

Here, on the other hand? All poopy talk, all the time.