The last three months of 2013 were absolute hell for me, I’m glad 2014 is here and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a healthy new year. At the beginning of October I came down with ‘colpo d’aria’ which roughly translates into a ‘stiff neck’. Now, this wasn’t just a little stitch in my neck it was a HUGE pain in my ass neck; you know the kind where your ear is glued to your shoulder and any movement you make sends shivering, painful shocks down your neck, back and arms. Heck, even sitting on the toilet was painful.
Then, I came down with a head cold which lasted two weeks. All that sneezing didn’t help the pain in my neck. By the middle of October my stiff neck was finally back to normal but I was still suffering from a serious bout of influenza which was now attacking my chest and lungs – I was a beautiful snotty, coughing mess.
Protecting myself from potential viruses.
By mid-November I was slowly getting back to my normal healthy self when I caught a nasty stomach virus which lasted a good three weeks. I thank the heavens above that I didn’t spill the contents of my stomach but the pain was enough to send me to the doctor for antibiotics, which I was instructed to take for a month. I dutifully took my medication and was beginning to feel better, at least I was finally eating full meals and enjoying a little Nutella on the side.
Just when I thought I was getting back to normal; one early, dark morning I awoke to make the morning coffee when the coffee pot fell from its perch on the stove sending the boiling contents down the top of my leg and onto the side of my calf. You can read all about it here, it was horrible. I couldn’t walk, sleep or shower for a good two weeks and the pain was incredible!
Four days after the scalding accident, I stubbornly threw on a pair of old track pants and limped into town for coffee at my favourite bar. It was nice chatting and catching up with some friends I hadn’t seen in a few weeks due to my illnesses. As I made my way out of the bar I slammed my thumb in the door causing blood to splatter on the door and the side of my good leg. I cried, and hid in the bathroom for a few minutes until I gathered enough courage to limp back home.
During the Christmas holidays I discovered a womanly problem that only a doctor could diagnose. The following morning I made my way down to the local doctor and this is what happened:
Me: Buongiorno.
Doc: Buongiorno.
Me: Oh, um … Dr. Fantastic isn’t in today?
Doc: No, he is on holiday and will be back on the 4th. You can leave and come back then if you prefer.
I wasn’t mentally prepared to tell this very young and rather stubborn doctor my womanly problem. I was used to Dr. Fantastic, who usually visits me in my home if I call him and smiles and laughs and makes me feel comfortable. This temporary doctor had me flustered from the moment I walked into the office.
Me: Okay. Um. I have a little problem, here, and I think I need to take an exam.
Doc: Who sent you here?
Me: Uhh, huh? No one sent me here, I came on my own. I found this little problem and maybe I need to have an exam done.
Doc: Okay, but who sent you here?
Seriously, at this point I wanted to sucker punch him. What was he trying to get at with this question? I was beginning to think I was in the wrong office – it felt all Godfather-ish.
Me: Umm, uhh. No one sent me here. However, I would like to have an exam done please.
Doc: Yes, but I asked you WHO sent you here?
Really? Again.
Me: No one told me to come here, no one! This is a doctor’s office right? And you are a doctor, correct? I have a problem, please …
Doc: WHO SENT YOU HERE?
Internally I made this face at the doctor.
At this point I was a little freaked out and wished my husband was with me, cause one swift look from Hub the doc would have shut his idiotic trap.
Me: Listen. Dr. Fantastic is my doctor. I live in this town and I have a health problem.
Doc: What is your name?
Me: Jennifer Avventura.
Doc: Write it down.
He quickly throws a pen and paper in my direction and I write my name down.
Doc: So, what is your problem?
Big internal sigh.
Me: I’ve already told you, three times!
Doc: Oh, then you will need an ultrasound?
Did he really just ask me what type of treatment I needed? Oh, heck yes he did!
Me: I don’t know what type of exam I need. I am not a doctor, you are.
He rudely types away at the computer, then the printer starts. Dr. Stronzo throws the la ricetta medica in my direction and tells me to have a nice day.
SAY WHAT?
Without an examination!
What did I learn?
- Never visit the doctor’s office during the holidays.
- La ricetta medica – is the little piece of paper from the local doctor that you take to see a specialist.
- Colpo d’aria – a perfect translation is ‘air shot,’ however – it’s a stiff neck.
- 13 is no longer my favourite number.
- It’s probably better that I wrap myself in plastic bubble wrap the next time I leave the house.
More in the Learning Italian series can be found here:
Have you had any strange expat experiences while visiting the doctor? Tell me about it in the comment section below.
P.S. a total clean bill of health. Finally.
Welcome to the new and slightly improved My Sardinian Life. After a much too long hiatus, I thought it was time to give my much-beloved blog a refreshing makeover. I am back in the writing-blogging saddle to share my experiences with the culture, traditions, and people of this enchanting island I now call home.
It has taken me months to come to terms with this difficult decision, weeks to accept its fate and countless hours on how I would pen a letter to the island and islanders who opened their hearts and doors to the expat Canadian who tried to make it work.
Once upon a time (about a year ago) a Sardinian travel agency contacted me to write brief English articles to help promote their travel brand. Unfortunately, at that time I was just packing up to move to Cayman Islands and I didn’t have the time nor energy to craft posts about Sardinia after slinging beer for 10 hours a day. I emailed them a polite reply stating that I was grateful for their consideration but am out of the country and haven’t the time to freelance for them.
If I’m going to work for free then I’m going to continue to craft posts about Sardinia and post them here, on my blog, where the only rules are mine.
My Sardinian Life 