A post health scare celebration

Anyone who knows me knows that I love sweets. I crave cookies everyday. I am a chocoholic. I consider a meal without Coke incomplete. I am a sugar junkie and proud of it.

Though that may be my undoing. Due to recent events and arising symptoms, I was convinced to get tested for diabetes by my family. Diabetes. Can you imagine? Me. That might as well be a death sentence for the girl who lives for ice cream. I don't even like any coke variant (light, zero) other than the full on regular.

Why did I go? I guess I wanted to know for myself. It was definitely a possibility with me. Mom's whole famly has it, except for her so I can't rule it out. If you looked up the symptoms of the illness online, they're all pretty much unrelated to each other in terms of body parts and such, I couldn't deny I had the sinking feeling it might be true.

So I dragged my scared self (and Mom) off to a certain hospital in Quezon Avenue to get the blood test. And man, the test was bad enough without the results. I didn't know what was gonna happen, and for those who suspect they have it, this is what happens. First they take the first vial of blood. After which they make you drink 75 ounces of this glucose solution thing that you have to finish within five minutes. (i know that sounds easy but gah, that was dis-gus-ting.) After an hour they take another vial of blood. And another vial of blood after that. I felt like a pincushion afterwards, even if the nurse was friendly enough.

I got the results yesterday. Blood sugar levels from each hour were within the normal range (SIGH OF RELIEF). Still have to get the results to a doctor to have it examined though, but I'm pretty much in the clear.

I'm celebrating right now with a chocolate chip frap. Thanks Paul!