Things are different in Italy....

Today was a mostly frustrating day in Italy!  I now understand my expatriate friends who live in other countries who describe the daily difficulties in getting along in a country different from your own.  It's not better or worse, it's just different!

 

We started off by trying to catch the bus to the hospital. The lady who rented our apartment to us told us where to go to catch the bus, but we really didn't understand about buying a ticket. We finally figured out to ask the little old man at the magazine stand - and voila!- he had tickets to sell. We purchased three bus tickets and headed to Ospedale Policlinico Borgo Roma, where Anna will spend the next few weeks.

 

The hospital is very large and appears to have many specialties.  Luckily for us, most of the names of the specialties are hinged on the Latin roots, which are the same as the English names.  We could easily pick out the place to go for ENT.  We tried to send Anna's MRI and CT scans via mail, but they apparently never arrived, so today, we hand-carried them to the hospital, where they will be reviewed by Dr. Colletti's colleague, Dr. Carner, who I believe is also in the ENT department, and then also by the neuroradiologist and pediatric neurosurgeon.

The hospital looked old-timey to me.  My dad said 1930s.  I don't know how he knows that since he wasn't around in the 1930s, but I don't know, either.  Just oldish.  Still, I could see medical students at work, a medical library, a cafeteria, a gift shop -- not so very different from the USA.

 

 

 

 

Once were done at the hospital, we went back to our apartment for lunch.  We really wanted to find a bank to exchange money, but things are different in Italy.  Banks are open from around 8:30 a.m. to 11:30 a.m., and then they close and re-open from 3:45 p.m. to 4:45 p.m. or so.  Maybe a career as a banker it Italy will appeal to some of you?  For most banks, you have to possess a customer access card to even enter the building.  How smart is that?  I think we could cut down on many bank robberies if that were the U.S. way!  Just an observation.

 

Since most things are closed until 3 p.m., we had to wait to see our apartment lessor to pay her.  It started to rain, so we ducked into a teeny cafe.  I ordered a caffe, and Papa ordered tea.  Anna ordered juice, and was very unhappy when it was pesca (peach) juice.  She ended up drinking Papa's tea.  This very elderly man stopped and was trying to tease Anna by meowing at her.  I had to explain that she could not hear him.  He looked at her sweetly and then at me and nodded.  What a gentle soul!  Old Italians love Anna!  She's the geriatric-Italian whisperer, I guess.

 

Our next adventure was to attempt to acquire bus passes.  Mind you, between Papa and me, there are advanced degrees at work here.  Still, we were unsuccessful.  We did manage to make it to the transportation authority (no small feat, people), and I even managed to have a meaningful conversation with the sweet guy who really, really wanted to help me.  However, to get a bus pass, you have to provide a photo.  The only place to get a photo taken is the train station.  Yes, the train station that we were at a few days ago and left by taxi to get to our apartment.  The train station which is too far away to walk.  The train station that you could get to easily, if only you had a bus pass.  It reminds me of one of my kids' favorite books, If You Give a Moose a Muffin.

 

In short, we wanted to accomplish three things today: drop the medical records, change money, and get a bus pass.  After leaving the apartment at 9 a.m. and returning at 5, we accomplished only one of these tasks.  I would throw in some witty Italian phrase here, but I don't know Italian.
I have, however, been very thankful for all my years of Spanish.  When my mother said, "what on earth will you do in life with a degree in Spanish," I assured her that it would come in handy somewhere down the road.  That road led to Italy, and it has, indeed, come in handy.  Not as handy as a bus pass or an open bank would be, but there you have it.

Tomorrow, Anna checks into the hospital.  Pray for us!  Anna is not used to being confined in a small space (her precious teacher asked us, "what on earth will she do all those days?"), and pray for us as we get used to the medical ways in another country.  It is sure to be different!  Pray that we can be a blessing to the other families whose children are also undergoing ABI.  Pray for the financial details to work out.  It's a stretch for us to even be here, so just pray things will work out.   Most of all, we plead with you to pray for protection for Anna and for healing.  Our heart's desire is that this surgery will be more successful than anyone thinks possible and that Anna will shock the socks off everyone.  Yes, I am praying for more than I would dare to ever ask, hope, or imagine.  Would you join me?

Amy