So I have new digs. I'm now located in the antepartum unit of Baptist Hospital in Memphis until delivery. Fun. Obviously I'm sad not to be at home any more, but they want to keep a close eye on all of the babies from here on out.
It's not that bad. Nice hospital, big room, and pleasant staff. Wireless internet and of course I have all my gadgets to keep me entertained. Plus, it is just a few miles from Jack's office so that is really convenient. I had all of these grand plans that he would bring me good food all of the time. And, this unit gets special food privileges of ordering whatever you want at any time from "the grill" - like sandwiches, pizza, milkshakes, etc. So I thought the gross hospital food would not be an issue. Perfect, since food is way up there on the list of important things for me.
Enter the 3 hour glucose test starting at 5 am this morning. Who the hell created that thing anyway? Is there not a better way? Well I fail it miserably. And all my dreams of good food go straight down the toilet.
How bad can it be, right? I had ordered a grilled cheese for lunch today when I put in my menu selections yesterday - surely they would still bring it but on wheat bread or something. After going all morning without a snack and thinking I was going to die of starvation, my lunch finally arrives. The lady leaves, I open the top off the plate.....and what do I see?
So here I am bawling crying and in walks the Chaplain to introduce herself. She thinks I have just received some kind of devastating news and is trying to coax out of me what is wrong. I'm sure she is preparing all of her greatest lines for whatever horror I have endured.
So when I can finally speak, I wail out "I don't like peas and carrots.....I wanted a grilled cheese!" - cue the tears to start again.
Then we had a great laugh over it. She was extremely kind and while I'm sure in her head she was thinking she has a total lunatic on her hands, she didn't show it.