Versions and Asian Food

Beware, people! Updates will be occurring weekly, beginning in two weeks… *Ominous music*

Yet another successful appointment at The Big Hospital last night, courtesy of “Mama.” Hubs had to work and therefore needed the car, so Mama generously agreed to drive me. We got to meet a new doctor – well, new to me anyway. I’ll call him Dr. Mischief, since the first thing he did when he walked into the room was to introduce himself as the high-risk doctor who saw me a couple times with Wiggle Worm. HA! I laughed and told him, “I don’t think so, sir. Dr. High Risk is a woman, and you’re very clearly not.” But I digress. There’s some to report before Dr. Mischief showed up.

The receptionist in OB, as it turns out, is a fellow Whovian. So while Mama and I waited for the nurse to call me in, we geeked out at the front counter for a while (and did more geeking out before we left!) Mama and our receptionist are both bummed out that Matt Smith is done being The Doctor after X-Mas. I’m sort of excited to see who they bring in after him, to be honest.

Once the young, energetic nurse did call us in and get us settled (I gained a pound), she asked if I had brought my glucose booklet.

“My what?” I asked.

“Your glucose booklet. It’s a little green booklet the doctor gave you to record your blood sugars,” she replied, looking as confused as I was.

“No one has ever given me a glucose booklet,” I frowned.

“No?” She asked, glancing at the computer screen that displayed my chart. “Did you do the glucose tolerance test?”

“I did,” I replied, trying to sound chipper. “It came back normal.”

She confirmed that it had, and explained that sometimes when people write up the summary slips to brief the doctors before they come in to see patients, the slips get rushed and mistakes get made. Honestly, I didn’t mind much. They usually get these mistakes ironed out in discussion with patients anyway. The nurse took my blood pressure, discussed her gorgeous new engagement ring with us and scurried off to find Dr. Mischief.

After the initial teasing, he settled straight down to work. He reiterated what the nurse had told us about needing to be tested for Group B Strep at my next visit, which I expected. He double-checked my chart to make sure that I was not, in fact, a gestational diabetic. He measured my uterus and declared me right on for dates: 34 weeks. He also did something no one else has done before; he listened to my belly with his stethoscope rather than searching for Tempest’s heartbeat with the Doppler, which requires goo to be smeared around my stomach, THEN put a tiny dab of goo down so he was pretty much right on the mark. The Doppler’s battery was dying though, so we were only able to hear him in bursts. Dr. Mischief declared everything great and healthy. What was amusing about this experience though, was that we could hear Tempest’s heart rate rising as he “wound up” for a good, hard kick. I've never felt anything like it before. I can tell when he’s waking up and getting ready to move around. It’s not easily described; he sort of inflates a little and I can feel the tension in my belly, almost like vibration, and then suddenly my belly distends rapidly and regains its shape just as quickly. Very strange sensations indeed.

We also discussed options if, at my 36-week ultrasound, Tempest is still breech. I asked if they do External Cephalic Version. Of course he replied that they do, and recommended that if the baby is indeed still breech on the 24^th, the group would generally recommend that I go straight up to labor & delivery to have the procedure done. There is a slight risk that it could break my water and set me into labor, but at 36 weeks, 3 days he’s developed enough that it wouldn't hurt him to be born that day anyway. In later discussion with I.F., it sounds like he’d prefer to wait till the following week, just in case I did go into labor. I’m pretty confident that I wouldn't  but I’m not a medical expert, either. Either way, unless Tempest does a major flip between now and then, I’m going to have my labor & delivery bag packed and waiting in the car, just in case.

After the appointment, Mama and I went to an Asian restaurant two towns over from The Big Hospital, for dinner. She got a sushi platter which she said was fantastic. I got pad thai that was soupy with overcooked noodles. Blech. We agreed that I had been watching too much "Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares" on Netflix, because I poked at just about everything I thought might be wrong with the place. In honesty, it was nearly five minutes before anyone even acknowledged us, let alone showed us to one of the many empty tables in the place. The crab rangoons were tiny but crunchy and not the worst I've had. Again; really bad pad thai, and the waitress completely forgot to bring me the soda I had ordered. I asked about it halfway through the meal and she finally went and got it. Hubs says I should give every restaurant two tries before I decide to stop going there. He's pretty much always right, so I will; just not for a while. Ha!