Hot

It’s Monday morning, back to school (or that’s how it feels) and I spent the entire weekend at home, lying on the sofa under the air conditioning whilst the outside world enjoyed 35 degree heat. Not sure that “enjoyed” is necessarily the best word for it – it was so humid that the 2 minutes I spent outside to move my car made it absolutely unbearable – although I’m sure that those thousands of people who hit the beach this weekend had a much nicer time of it than I did, all things considered. It’s not that I’m lazy or incapable of “making the most of things” (as my mum would say), but this weekend brought with it a rather unpleasant situation whereby constant nausea prevented me from behaving like a normal person, and if it wasn’t for Luca sticking by me and sacrificing his weekend for the sake of the common good…..well, I don’t know what I would have done. So, unfortunately I am unable to regale you with tales of exciting trips, new discoveries, run-ins with the local peasant community, or any of the half-readable stuff I normally like to write about. Instead we watched two films – ‘Wolfman’, which was scary but entertaining enough and another with Denzel Washington (don’t remember the title), which was set in a post-apocalyptic future and involved him trying to get the last surviving bible to a safe location. Very forgettable but we always appreciate Denzel, no? And that was my weekend. Two mediocre movies and a 200 euro electricity bill (that’s my estimate based on the 24/7 air con – and we didn’t even care!)… If anything more interesting happens in the near future, I’ll be sure to document it….

Judgement Day...

I am insulted. And indignant. And slightly annoyed. I am not, however, surprised. When you live in a place like Italy – or rather when you live in the greater Milan area – you get used to being judged for your appearance, pushed out of the queue at the fish counter, harassed from a distance of precisely half a meter by the car behind you and forced to dodge the “doggy doo doo” that decorates every urban pavement. After a while you (almost) get used to it, put it down to experience, and get over it because, at the end of the day it’s not personal. People are what they are, they behave like that with everyone and you just can’t take it to heart.
Being humiliated by your own GP when you go to them for advice is another matter, and this is what happened to me last week. I needed to see the doctor anyway, and since I had to request a referral to get some blood tests done (which had been suggested by my Gynecologist), I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone. You see, here in Italy the system is as badly organized as they say it is. Going a little off-topic now, but I went to my Gyno to have a random annual check-up and we discussed the fact that I’m starting to maybe-possibly-sort of-think-about-starting-a-family-at-some-point-in-the-not-too-distant-future (before anyone starts getting excited!), so she ‘prescribed’ some standard blood tests, reminding me that I would, however, need the referral from my GP in order to actually get them done. A 120 euro an hour specialist is evidently not enough to physically refer you to the lab, so I paid my bill, left and, a few days later took myself off to see my new (and therefore never previously visited) GP. It was all going so well – the 12 people waiting to see her when I got there had dwindled to just a couple within an hour (the last time I visited a no-appointment doctor in Italy it took 3 and a half hours to be seen – this is how many of them operate). I took my turn, discussed the current problem and then pulled out the note from the Gyno listing the blood tests she wanted me to do. “And why do you wish to have these tests?” she asked, taking no prisoners, bearing down on me over her glasses like some kind of scary school teacher. “Because I just turned thirty and we were thinking we might look into having a family at some point soon, and I thought it best to make sure…..” “How long have you been married?” she positively snapped, cutting me off in no uncertain terms. “Ummm…..errrrrr…..I’m not married…. I….. ummmmmm…. live with my partner”. The woman gave me such a look it still haunts me a week later. She literally looked me up and down for 30 seconds, before pulling herself together enough to tell me that my Gynecologist has no idea what she’s doing, these tests are not the right ones, why do I even go to her, etc. etc. No querying my family history, my medical background – nothing. Great first meeting between medical professional and new patient. NOT. Ask me personal questions so that you’re capable of managing my health, Dottoressa; keep your personal marital status issues to yourself! I repeat, I am insulted, indignant, but not particularly surprised. Just another day in paradise!

Two posts in two days...

...it's a miracle!
I just had to recount the very Italian conversation I just had with my colleague, G. Obviously, this conversation took place in Italian, but I've translated it for the sake of the blog. If you know anything about the Italian character, it's sure to make you smile:

G: "I don't feel all that good. Maybe I'm going down with something"
Me: "Really? What's wrong?"
G: "Oh just a bit of nausea, headache, maybe a touch of fever"
Me: "Wow, sounds bad - I wonder why you feel like that?"
G: "It's probably because this morning was quite cold and now it's hot outside"
Me: "But you're inside"
G: "Yes but I can see through the windows that it's hot"

Sintesi

I thought it might be time for a quick round-up of current events - also as an excuse for my poor blogging of late....

1. I had a car accident on the tangenziale di Milano 2 weeks ago and pretty much wrote my car off. It's still being repaired.

2. The very same morning, Luca came off his bike 100 metres from our apartment, because of a typical stordito local driver who wouldn't know an indicator if it hit him in the face. The bike is destroyed and Luca has 10 stitches in each leg.

3. We picked up the keys to our new apartment and started painting the master bedroom (me on the ladder, Luca on a stool with his leg up)

4. We bought a car (to replace the bike) and discovered just how much paperwork and expense is involved in what should be a simple process....

5. My best friend split up from her boyfriend after 6 years together

How's that for action?? Not to mention the heavy workload in the office til 7pm every night, packing of all our worldly goods into cardboard boxes and all of the other random everyday tasks that seem to get longer and more complicated with each day that goes by.....

Mamma mia!!! And it's only Monday!! Ce la faremo???