Hey everyone! Just wanted to let you know I have a new home:

Too Tall for Italy!

So update your feeders and blogrolls and I’ll see you in Verona!

Ciao Ciao,

Jessica

Well, we officially made it to Verona in one piece. On the 24th we left Rome at midnight. We borrowed a furgone (Big van) from a friend and D, D’s Dad, Me and Oli all wedged into the front, while our life was packed up in boxes in the back. We made it Verona at about 6am, where we had a looooong breakfast and waited for the police station to open so we could get a ZTL pass (a pass that lets us drive in the restricted areas in the town center) for the day. After we got that, we had to drive out to Lake Garda to get the keys from our landlord (a very nice elderly couple). In their lovely apartment looking over the lake, the landlord’s wife forced me to eat homemade brioche and supplied me with endless coffee while the boys handled all the boring details: where the storage is, the number for our condo association, ect. I was not complaining, even though I was tired, being stuffed with food and caffeine while looking over Lake Garda was heavenly. The Landlady is very sweet too.  After she found out I was American, she began talking slower and clearer so I could understand. She told me she had initially thought I was Sicilian, which is strange because I am so white I am almost clear. Boh.

After that, we climbed back into the van and headed *home*. With the house keys and the ZTL pass in hand, we drove to the entrance to our street. There we had a problem. Since our street is in the centro storico (historical center) it is very VERY narrow. It looked like the van would just barley fit. D decided to go for it, with his dad and me outside giving wild directions. He stepped on the gas and all the sudden a huge umbrella, from the bar at the entrance of the street, went flying! D accidentally swiped the umbrella with the van. Property damage was not exactly the first impression we where hoping for with our new neighbors, but the bar man was cool about it and it wasn’t ruined (neither was the van-thankfully). We still haven’t gone to that bar yet though.

I was nervous to see the new bathroom since I didn’t know what color it would be and since the last time I saw it the whole thing was a concrete hole with tubes sticking out everywhere and because the bathtub was next to the couch in the living room. But it turned out great and it was light blue and white (as opposed to scary yellow or black and pink like our old bathroom). They didn’t put the tub back in, but there was a huge shower that *thankfully* had enough room so I could bend over and shave my legs. It seems like every other shower stall I had been in here barely has enough space to allow you to bend your elbows while washing your hair. The only crappy part is we wouldn’t have hot water until the gas got turned on… in 3 days.

We got all the boxes unloaded and up into the apartment in record time. Then we went out to dinner and came home and crashed. When I woke up the next day D’s dad was already back in Rome with van! He had slept that night, woke up and had driven the 7 hours back to Rome all while I was asleep.

D and I began unpacking, realizing we need a lot more furniture than what came with the apartment- mostly in the bathroom. I hate it when there is absolutely NO counter space. Just one huge sink and a teeny tiny medicine cabinet. So we will be ordering from IKEA soon. I am pretty sure they deliver. Speaking of which, we found out Esselunga delivers groceries and it is not that expensive and since we are car less it helps us out quite a bit. We placed the order and the next day this big burly guy heaved all our groceries up the 2 flights of stairs to our door! The shipping is only 7 euros, but comparing the food prices to that of the neighborhood PAM we are actually saving money ordering from Esselunga. I love it when the easier way is also the cheaper way.

Now that we are mostly unpacked we have been making our nightly walk with all the other Veronese (that are still here) and drinking a spritz. This is definitely my favorite part of living here so far. I also love that there is so much to see right outside my front door. Everyone in Rome told me that the Veronese are really cold and unfriendly, but that has not been my experience at all. I think they are nicer than the people I interacted with in Rome. Especially in terms of customer service we have had only good experiences so far.

Of course, our phone and internet were supposed to be working by now but they aren’t. And, of course, there is no one available to come out and fix it until the end of the month. But that is all to be expected. It wouldn’t be Italy without those things happening. I am just happy the gas guy came out on time!

I also noticed how different the public offices are here compared to Rome. We went to get our residence changed and expected it to be a big, chaotic mess like it usually is when dealing with the government. Instead, we walked into this completely remodeled, air condition, immaculate building. Huh? Are we in the right place? There were clean white chairs everywhere, and the sportellos were nice glass desks facing the waiting area…and the people behind them were smiling?!?! We pulled our number and 5 seconds later our number was called. We didn-t even have time to sit in the chairs. The woman helping us was cheerful and very nice, asking us how we liked Verona. In about 10 minutes it was all over, we had our residency receipts in hand and were standing bewildered outside the office.

“What just happened?” I asked, “Was that really where we were supposed to go?”

We had asked how long it usually takes for the vigili to come to our house to make sure we are actually living there, since in Rome it took about 5 months after I applied for residency there. She said it could be up to 6 months, but it is rarely that long. So 3 days later on a Sunday morning when the doorbell rang, the last person I thought it would be was the police officer verifying our residence. Sure enough there he was. He was also extremely nice, asking us how we were getting on in Verona and welcomed us to the city.

I seriously thought it was all a dream. I just hope it continues to go this way.

PS: I am still working on the new site. But since we don’t have internet (just our cell phone modem) I won’t be able to get it up for awhile. Watch this space though! I am hoping by the end of the month it will be ready.

Our lovely landlord called us the other day to let us know the apartment would be ready the 25th. So we are moving in the 26th! Only 10 more days of my Roman adventures (said with extreme happiness).

Since I have been gushing about moving to anyone that will listen, I keep getting asked why I am so excited to leave Rome. Well…

It never really grew on me. It’s too big for my taste. Which is weird because when I came here on vacations I thought it was so dreamy and wonderful. But shortly after moving here, I knew it just wasn’t my style. I don’t think it is Rome specifically, but just big cities in general. But what is weird is I loved Seattle, which I guess is close to the population of Rome-so who’s knows? Seattle seems smaller than Rome and it had many of the all the things I love: shows, lots of green space, water and ethic food. Which I never really found here.

Rome has a few ghosts for me too. When I was vacationing here it was a wild time in my life. I had just broken up with my ex, it was the first time I had been single, free and of drinking age. Whenever I am near Termini I avoid the street the “Hostel of Shame” is located. And just wandering around I can spot the places where I made a fool of myself. Granted during that time I had no idea I would ever live here, so it was just a place to be young, dumb and foreign. But now, in just a few years my whole life is changed. I don’t feel like I need to run away from anything, but I want a place to start new memories that better reflect my life as it is now. Verona is a new start for me in many ways.

I pledge to be more open, explore and take advantage of the fact I live in such a beautiful country. Verona will be different.

I want to make it clear I am not complaining, it was a great experience living in Rome. But I am ready to close this chapter of my life.

After a long sweaty trip to Verona our life in the north is coming together. We went up to go apartment hunting and stayed with one of D’s friends who is also in the air force. I had met him a few times in Rome while he was here but I was excited to finally meet his wife, but I found out she was down in Puglia with her family. D thinks we will really get along and she is in the same boat as me: living in a new area, military husband, no job and lonely. She sounds hilarious and that we have a lot in common-another added bonus of moving!
We visited apartments ranging from a hole in a wall near the train station (EW) to a HUGE apartment with 2 balconies overlooking Via Mazzini (For you Romans think Via Condotti/Via del Corso). I was in love with it but it was just barely above our price range. I was surprised how cheap rent is there compared with Rome-def works to our advantage. We also looked at a really pretty attic apartment a tad out of the center, but it had a view of the entire city! On foot it was about 10-20 to Piazza Erbe (we are trying to live car less the first year). Add another 10 minutes to get to D’s office and it seemed too far away. It was also on a hill and there wasn’t so much as a grocery store or a bar near, being that the apartment was flanked by a convent and a monastery. We were going to go for it anyway when we found the PERFECT place! It was just around the corner from the Via Mazzini apartment, so the street intersects with Via Mazzini but it is a on a side vicolo (which equals less foot traffic/tourists/noise). Plus, Bershka is on the corner-heaven! So the apartment is completely remodeled, and actually when we looked at it, the bathroom was gutted and being completely redone. In all ways it was perfect: size, location, newness, and rent. We would def be able to manage the city with bikes and walking. The apartment has a huge bedroom, a living room a separate kitchen and dining room and the bathroom. All for under 600 euro per month (our budget from the military)!

The owners were not in town (they live in Mantova) when we called initially but told us to stop by and look at it as the workers were there. We immediately called them back after looking at it and told them we wanted to take it. The bathroom won’t be done until the end of the month which is perfect for us since we want to move in the beginning of August. We offered to drive to Mantova but they told us they were actually vacationing in Garda and to come down (accomplishing my secret mission to go to the lake during that week even though D had initially poo-pooed the idea since we were not on vacation).

The next day we went to meet them. They were an old retired couple and were extremely nice. We chatted for a few hours and signed the lease.

I can’t wait to move!!! It’s even more exciting now that I can picture where we are going to live.

The BIG game is on right now. I can tell because no one is driving down the street, the all night pastry shop is mysteriously closed and every house has the glare of the TV radiating out of their windows.

I’m not a soccer fan outside of Becks (or Becks in a certain ad, wearing certain underwear), a certain Tim Parks book and that shirt which was 2 euro at Panorama. Basically, I just don’t understand it. I try, but my eyes glaze over and all I see is foosball. I do like American football, so I know it’s not a dislike of sports in general.

Surprisingly (or thankfully?), my Italian better half isn’t really a fan either. I know, right, he must be one of the ONLY Italians that doesn’t pray to the calcio gods. So when I walked into the living room to watch Law & Order tonight, I was surprised to see the game on.

“I knew it! You couldn’t hide your love for the game after all! Calcio Lover!” I squealed.

“Actually, I am just watching it so I have something to talk about at work tomorrow.”

Touché

We FINALLY found out when Daniele needs to report for duty in Verona: September 1st. This means that we need to find an apartment in July since Italy closes during August. I am really excited. This gives us plenty of time to find the perfect pad and move calmly. We are heading the Verona the first week of July to hopefully find something and sign a lease, then move during July/August. D has almost all of August off of work so it should be fine. The earlier the better, since things like internet and the like can take weeks to set up.  We have a lead on a great place near the river-it’s gorgeous and in the center-hopefully it will still be available when we go up there.

In other news: I am feeling a lot better. Basically back to normal. Still have to get another round of x-rays but I think the worst is definitely behind me.

Stay Cool.

I realized my last four posts have been really depressing, and basically so has my life lately. Sorry this post is more of the same. It all has to do with STILL being sick and the movie I have been waiting to see for, like , ever (or since 2003). I had x-rays last week and it shows that the pleurisy is still there and there is some water on my lungs, which is never good. So I basically have to rest and not partake in any physically activity…of.any.kind. Sadness. I also have to get tested for tuberculosis (um, what the F?) since in very rare cases it can begin with pleurisy. GAWD. The doctor did reassure me that I would not need to quarantined, the test is only a precaution.

To try to cheer me up, D agreed to see SATC with me. It is playing in Rome IN ENGLISH (with Italian subs) at the Warner Village in Piazza della Repubblica. Seems like every english speaking study abroad chick dressed up in thier finest from miles around came to see the flick at the same time as me. We were in line for tickets when the group of ten 18 year olds screamed as they bought the last tickets to the 9.30 showing. Great. The next show was at 12.30am. Since we had already circled Rome for an hour trying to find a parking spot, we decided to buy tickets for the late screening. So we had like 3 hours to kill. A few strawberry daiquiris and a spritzer later, we went back to the theatre to wait.

I really like SATC on the little screen, but on the big screen it just seemed different. I didn’t hate it, but felt kind of disappointed after. Maybe it was all the hype, combined with all the waiting for it to be released (I remember thinking only 105 days left!) it got my hopes up then 2 and a half hours later it was like: that’s it? It’s definitely better than the other crap I have seen in the theater as of late (Ironman comes to mind) so it wasn’t a total loss. Still good, but just not the same.

Well, I survived. That’s saying a lot after the first hospital “experience”. My wrist still looks disgusting, the six inch bruise is going to take forever to heal. I guess the girl/stab wound inflicter popped a vein.

On Monday (as in a week and a half ago) when D said I had to go back to the hospital after talking to our GP, I starting crying, ok bawling, which really sucks when it hurts to breathe. He promised me he wouldn’t take me back to that place since I was obviously still traumatized. I reluctantly went to the Policlinico Casilino (Via Casilina), not the best area of town but I was shocked that the hospital looked shiny and new. When we went in there was no smoking people or staff blocking the doors. There was even several large signs forbidden it. This is my kind of place!

The inside was nice as well, everything looked new, there was a million nurses running around and the chairs we perfectly functional and comfortable. It looked very much like the hospital from my hometown, and even had separate rooms for patients, plenty of beds (unbroken), curtains and more than one doctor. The wait sucked, but that’s an ER for you. When I was seen about 3 hours had passed. I walked into the room and there was this lady, a patient, dumping all these prescriptions on the bed where I was being told to lie down. She and the doctor were yelling back and forth, arms flailing widely. He was telling her that her visit was over and she needed to get out, there were patients (ME) that were in worse condition that needed to be seen. He finally got her to leave and not a minute later the door flung open and she rushed back in with 25 more questions for the doctor. He got pissed (at that moment he was trying to listen to my lungs) and told her “PER FAVORE!!” Then he called for security and these two guards came in from behind a curtain (connecting two rooms?) and escorted her out. If I didn’t feel on the edge of death, I would have seen the humor in the situation at the time. But really, that lady was ridiculous! I had been in horrible pain for 3 hours waiting patiently for this doctor and here she is, barging in.

The doctor was awesome to me though. He was excited to speak English to someone, even though it was hard for me to answer back with the bum lungs and all. I cried when he started pressing my ribcage, it hurt so badly. Weirdly, he thought it might be a kidney infection. I have had those before and they never affected my ability to breathe. But the tests were negative and he ordered chest x-rays. Back in the hall I went (where D was able to wait with me through the entire ordeal). There was about 10 of us waiting in the hall outside the room where the doctor was. Of us, 7 were old ladies, 1 was a middle aged guy, there was me and then a middle aged woman next to me. Then each of us had a person waiting with us. All 7 of the ladies were sent home with what amounted to indigestion, but they were really entertaining during the long wait. One kept wailing that her daughter hated her, even though she was right there holding her hand at 2 am. And one kept hitting her daughter with her cane telling her to go home.

An hour later I was taken down the hall. Getting the X-rays sucked because I had to stand and put my arms over my head-both terribly painful. After that I was wheeled back to D and waited. An hour later the doctor came and told us the diagnosis, pleurisy, and gave me some ineffective, intravenous pain killers. After they were done, about and hour and a half later I was released. But I was prescribed meds and painkillers.

The next morning I felt the same, but I was able to get pain relief with the help of a nurse, a syringe and a shot to my ass. Embarrassing, considering the nurse is my neighbor, but it was all good. It felt great to be able to take a breath minus the stabbing pain.

Today, I am off the meds and the only thing that hurts is my butt muscle from the painkillers. But I am not complaining. It’s still harder to breathe than normal and I get tired easy. But all in all I feel way better. The best thing is I am not traumatized by the hospital anymore, you just need to know where to go.

I had to go back to the emergency room last night. But the good news is we went to a different one and it was a lot better. I have been diagnosed with pleurisy which is not fun and I am in lots of pain Write more soon.

Thanks for all the nice comments, it’s helping!

It started with a tightness in my chest and feeling like I couldn’t breathe. At 1am on Friday D drove me to the emergency room, since I didn’t want to take any chances. We pull up near the entrance and we made our way to the doors. Standing outside is about 30 people, a mixture of people waiting, doctors, nurses and EMTs all SMOKING right at the entrance to the ER. I was struggling to breathe as it was, and found it even more difficult with the wall of smoke acting as a barricade to the hospital. We went through the doors, which were left open, and the smoke followed us inside. We when to the nurses station and there was no one there. After 10 minutes one of the nurses from outside stomped her cigarette into the ground and came to the desk. We checked in and were told to wait. Nothing unusual about that in a emergency room. Then they said I would have to sit alone in the patient waiting area. I looked in and there was no chairs, no beds, just one room stuffed beyond capacity with patients in all stages of agony. I think the nurse saw the worried look on my face and told me I could stay with D in the “parents” waiting room. I chose this because there was at least a chair for me to sit in. The downside was this room had a door to the outside and there was about 10 people standing in front of it smoking. My general impression of the hospital was that it was dirty, there was garbage all over the waiting room and mysterious stains on the gray floors. The chairs were old and mostly broken. I kind of expected this, after all the health care is free (as in universal-I know we pay in taxes) and who knows what money is actually available for maintenance.

About 2 hours went by and I was called back to be seen. I entered into another large room, filled with mostly elderly patients laying on stretchers and the rest sitting in chairs or on the floor. Many were groaning in pain, and crying. D came with me because it was hard to speak loud enough to be heard over the other patients in my condition. D told the doctor sitting behind the desk that it was hard for me to breathe and my lungs hurt. She looked at us with disgust and asked me what language I spoke. I said “inglese” and then she wanted to know if I was on vacation. D said I was his wife and that I lived here. She began typing into the computer using only her pointer fingers. Then she said it was impossible for my lungs to hurt because they don’t have pain receptors. D said rather annoyingly that “her chest hurts then”. At that point scary doctor (the only doctor on shift that night, in a busy ER) said she wasn’t sure what they could do besides take my blood and maybe do x rays. Then she forced D to leave. I was taken behind this ratty curtain and told to lay on a this old looking bed. An assistant told me she needed to take my blood. She grabs my wrist and tells me not to move. She then puts a needle into my wrist right underneath my hand on the side where my thumb is. I have never had blood drawn from this area, and OH MY GOD it hurt so bad! After a few minutes she took even more blood from my inside elbow. The scary doctor came behind the curtain and “examined” me. I say that in quotes because she maybe listened to my chest for ten seconds, the whole time screaming at a nurse on the other side of the curtain. She disappears and the girl who took my blood then attempts an EKG. It was the old school machine with the knobby suction cups. None of them would stick to me, I think the suction cups were too worn out. So kept trying to force them and it hurt a lot being that my chest was already in pain. They ended up leaving little bruises all over me. During all of this, my wrist was throbbing. I asked if it was supposed to hurt so bad and she didn’t answer me. Then she told the scary doctor the EKG wasn’t functioning. She had me get up and stood me next to this blood pressure machine that was sitting near the floor. She put my arm in the cuff then walked away. So I stood in the middle of all the elderly patients in the room, with no chair, hunched over clutching my purse and jacket with my wrist that was swelling to twice it’s normal size. 10 minutes later she came back and directed me to sit in this dark hallway (no smokers yay). There were a few chairs, even more miserable looking than the ones in the waiting room. A girl next to me had all sorts of tubes sticking out of her and was shaking violently. She was in obvious pain. She pleaded to scary doctor when she walked by for help. She said she was too busy and what if a person with a heart attack was coming in? That didn’t make sense to me. I sat down and tried to drown out the noises around me.

About another 2 hours passed in the dark hallway. The combination of the unsteady chair, not being able to lie down, rest or talk to D made me feel worse. I wished I never came here. I peeled off the bandage on my wrist. My wrist was huge, black and hurt like a son of a bitch. I took the other bandage off of my arm to find a rash. I have sensitive skin and was probably allergic to the adhesive. I just wanted to leave.

After debating the pros and cons, I came to the conclusion that I’d rather die at home than stay in this god forsaken hospital for another second. I mustered up the courage and approached scary doctors desk. I asked if I could speak to my husband and she said absolutely not without giving me a reason. Not having strong command of Italian at the moment nor the energy to argue, I turned around back to my chair. Then I saw a guy at the end of the hallway who’d I’d seen in the “parents” waiting room. With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking, I very slowly walked as fast as my lungs would let me and found on the other side the waiting room. D saw and ran up to me. I burst into tears, showed him my wrist and dramatically told him I didn’t want to die in this hellhole. He agree and told me at this time in the morning we could just call our regular doctor. He told me to go back and sit tight. A few minutes later I hear a nurse come in and say the American girl’s husband wants to discharge her. I got up and went over to the nurse. She asked me if this was what I wanted and I said yes. Then scary doctor stated I didn’t understand and to bring D in here. Then they got into a yelling match where the doctor said I was impatient and didn’t want to wait my turn. D said it wasn’t that, it was just taking so long that we could get better treatment elsewhere. The doctor was furious that D was questioning her ability and then he said she hadn’t even performed a real exam on me and I have just gotten worse since being here. She threw together discharge papers and slammed them on the desk for me to sign. Then we left.

On the walk to the car I burst into tears again. I have never been treated so bad at a hospital before. I know my situation is probably minor to others, but it was scary to me at the time. Not being able to breath is never fun. All I want is to go to a hospital and get answers and help. Not to leave worse off. I don’t want to start a huge debate, I know doctors in Italy have a lot to overcome. I am not bashing the system as a whole, but there is some serious flaws in this hospital. I hope I never have to go back there.