You're gonna want to get comfy for this one...
Today was my glucose screening test and it was really quite painless (except the three pricks to my arms). I should get my results back here in a few days and hopefully I passed with flying colors so I don't have to do anything else. I arrived at 8:00 a.m. and they took my blood since I was fasting. I then chose the lemon-lime flavor and it was not bad at all, just a VERY sugary drink. Comparable to Mountain Dew on crack. I chugged it, knowing it was probably best to not stop or I may not want to finish it. Then an hour later I was called back for my blood to be drawn again, and then a last time another hour later. By 10:00 a.m. I was out of there, starving, but headed home. Should get my results back in a few days, let's all pray I pass---I don't like the idea of anyone telling me back to back off the cheesecake. Will keep you posted, but it really wasn't bad at all.
Now...what was bad was the 2 hours in the waiting room and the people God chose to send in for my viewing pleasure. You may or may not know this about your girl Reagan, but she tends to have what some might call SUPERSONIC HEARING. Yes, it's true, I try to not boast (as it is more of a curse then a blessing). I can hear things that most cannot, I have very VERY VERY sensitive ears. So, with that said, you can imagine how hard it was growing up hearing the light flickering in the ceiling while taking the ACT Test (let's not discuss scores here)...or being sat next to the nose whistler during church (you know, the guy who has a booger hanging and it flaps back and forth as he inhales and exhales, therefore making a whistling sound)...or putting in some serious man hours working on my CD Clock in shop class just to throw it away because the minute hand ticked too loudly while I slept. It's a curse, okay.
So today, God (being the funny man he is) brought three people into the lab to test my patience and to challenge my handicap. Here is who he brought me:
Under the Breath Cusser
Lady Who Can't Hear Her Own Phone Ringing
Finger Tapper
Under the Breath Cusser~a heavy set man who is pissed off at the world he had to come this morning and who is panting to say the least. Nothing makes him happy so as he sits across the room from me he continues to pant, but with every exhale he cusses. I appreciate the fact that he leaves no word unused...but he is mad at the world, to say the least...and he has an angry stare to him.
Lady Who Can't Hear Her Own Phone~Hey mam, yah ummm, that's your phone that has rang four times at a volume of 12 now. Take a look around, no one is checking to see if it is THEIR phone. Gonna go out on a limb here and say that I don't think any of us willingly chose the Bach/Beethoven remix as our ringer either...so ya, it's you...answer it.
Finger Tapper~ This just in...you tapping your fingers loudly on the US Weekly to the tune of Yankee Doodle will NOT get them to call your name any faster. It will, however, end with you losing your phalanges when I ninja chop them off. You see, I can do this because you chose to sit directly next to me space invader. Please note, there were ample seats available, he chose to pull up right next to me.
So, in conclusion dear friends, I hope that one day I am graced with that motherly ability to tune out these things just as I have seen many tune out the sounds of their own children's voice. This is my prayer.
Reagan
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