I usually try to keep my posts upbeat, informative, and hopefully entertaining, but I need to take a minute to acknowledge the hardest circumstance I've faced yet.
My mom had a heart-attack on Saturday, Feb 13th. She was giving a school presentation when the begining stages of the heart-attach come on. She, of course, finished her presentation (and was told she got an A) and then decided to go drive herself to the doctor because the pain she was feeling was something she never experienced before. She called me swearing it was just indigestion, but thought it would be best to check it out while the Kaiser office was still open. She arrived, they did an EKG and rushed her to Good Samaritans Hospital.
The decision she made to go to the hospital saved her life. She called me to let me know what was going on. At this point it was approx. 10:30pm in Germany. I was very worried and told her I would be awake until I heard from her again with an update.
Long story short - she had a spontaneous dissection of the circumflex artery. This is a very rare type of heart attack which resulted in all the cardiologists/cardiac surgeons meeting to decide what to do for her. They decided it would be best to try and stent the artery's affected by the dissection. One stent worked and the other two failed, resulting in one collapsed artery and the other barely functioning.
Once the doctors realized there wasn't much they could do without making the problems worse, they decided to let my mom have the heart attack and monitor her closely...
There was a critical 48 hour window that I didn't know about until the 3rd day after the "event". My mom has survived yet another traumatic medical procedure/event and is expected to make a near-full recovery (aside from the heart damage sustained due to the heart attack).
What is a girl to do? I'm in Germany - at minimum 30 hours away from reaching her. At the time of all the commotion on day 1 - I was told she had an "crucial 8 hour window" where they were really concerned for her life. Even if I had all the money in the world - I wouldn't be able to reach her in time. It was the worst feeling I've ever had. I was completely helpless, alone, and thinking (very dangerous for girls when they are emotional).
The one thing that I prayed would not happen during my "oversees experience" was that my family fall ill or become seriously injured. Of course you hope things like this never happen - but you REALLY hope they don't happen while your so far away.
This last week was a huge eye opener for me. To be completely honest, I still don't know if I made the right decision.
What was my decision, you ask? Well, ironically I was already scheduled to fly home on Feb. 19th for 8 days for family visit and a few days of work stuff. The travel was booked approx 6 weeks ago and everything was set. Then you get "the call". Should I leave the second I hear of an illness or injury? Should I wait? Will I totally regret my decision? Am I over-reacting? Well, given the circumstances, and what I was told of the "critical 8 hour window", I decided to wait and see what happened... You have to keep in mind that a flight from Europe to Denver usually takes around 20 hours on average. I didn't want to put myself out-of-reach for the next day, so I waited.
My mom survived like she always does... and thank goodness. I just don't know what I would have done if something went terribly wrong and I didn't get to see her again.
Not to sound to hallmark-y, but wow - you really need to make every moment count, don't go to bed angry - or in my case - don't leave the country angry and talk often.
I love my family more than they know. I know life isn't fair, and I know we can't prevent the unexpected, but if I can prevent the feelings I've felt over the past week, I will.
Amore a tutti e grazie per il tuo prayers
Buona notte~
Jamie
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
And then he said...
"questo sono inventzione"
Wait, wait (Aspetta, aspetta) let me start from the beginning...
I arrive back from my vacation in the states to find a small crack in the ceiling of my entry way (which is near the bathroom) and in my bathroom there is a yellow stained ceiling and a small tear in the "drywall" or whatever it is that they use here which seems to be the result of a water leak "from above". There are four levels in my building, I live on the third. Therefore, if all things are logical in the world, its safe to assume something is leaking from my neighbors above. Let me just take this moment to say how excited I was for having the opportunity to experience first hand how problems like this are handled in Italy. Some prefer a hole in the head...
OK. Long story short, it took me one week and a lot of "hard" (physically and mentally) Italian conversations with my portinaio (i.e. grounds keeper) to find out what the proper process is to handle issues like this. Silly me... assuming there is such a process... I know better by now.
OK. So my apt is leased through my company (i.e. they signed the dotted line) so all issues are suppose to route through them. The girl I was working with was "molto occupato" very occupied/busy and just couldn't get around to making the call to my "landlord". Everyone I told about the "leak" said, "Don't let that wait" or "That is a big problem" or "Ah, very urgent". YA THINK! Geez! Finally, once a different lady "took over" I got an apt right away.
It is now 8:30am Monday morning, February 1st. My buzzer rings. Its Signora Terabucci (I believe she is 70-something yrs old and is the current "landlord" or "owner" of my apt) and another gentleman (who we will call "Luigi" b/c I can't remember his name). Luigi is some sort of contractor or something - I assumed. They come in and first I point to the ceiling in the entry way. Signora Terabucci looks up and says, "Oh mio dio, terribile, mamma mia". I then walk them into my bathroom hesitantly, worried the little old Italian lady was going to have a heart attack (as the bathroom was much, much worse) and pointed to the ceiling again. I think she had a minor heart attach... she started talking really fast and saying some really bad words about my neighbors above. It is safe to assume she has had similar problems in the past with these particular people.
Then she asks me "Quando" which implied the question, "When did this happen" I told her I was on vacation and when I got home on January 7th, this is what I saw. She flipped out asking me why it took so long for me to call her and how urgent of a matter this was... I didn't have the energy or patience to remind her that the country we currently live in functions completely and totally without process or any sense of urgency. So instead I told her my office needed to call (in broken Italian). She didn't understand and that is par for the course... I just smiled.
After some poking and prodding of the bathroom ceiling, Luigi goes upstairs to see if my neighbors were home. Five minutes later Luigi comes back with two more Italian men. Hey look at that, its my neighbors I've never met. I now have three Italian men and Signora Terabucci in my little apartment. The two neighbors see Signora Terabucci and one of them (we will call "Mario") immediately rolled his eyes a put his hands in a praying position and shaking them up and down ( a VERY common expression used to emphasis the current emotions their feeling - I call it "Talking with hands").
The two men have the opportunity to inspect the "problem at hand". They are all talking at the same time and the decibel level begins to rise. I think to myself, "If three of you would just shut up for two seconds and listen I could probably get to work a lot quicker". It is not how they do things here - in general. The culture is very consistent in this manner - they talk over eachother constantly. I hear Mario say in Italian "It could be your leak, it could be my leak, we do not know." There goes any hope for the logical approach I mentioned earlier. Signora Terabucci goes off and you could tell she was throwing accusations all over the place.... very entertaining but not helpful, and this is when Mario says, "questo sono inventzione" which translates exactly to "That you are inventing." I laughed out loud.
After a lot more bickering, hundreds of pictures and each of them walking in and out of my bathroom (very very small bathroom) 10-15 times each, the result was that Signora Terabucci would contact her lawyer and send the "proper documentation" to my neighbors insisting they investigate the leak, and if confirmed it is their leak - they fix it.
There is a small chance my ceiling will be fixed before my 4th floor neighbors become roommates.
I will NEVER start a Monday that way again. I will wait until at least Tuesday - believe me it is worth it.
Amore a tutti! Buona notte e ciao!
Jme
Wait, wait (Aspetta, aspetta) let me start from the beginning...
I arrive back from my vacation in the states to find a small crack in the ceiling of my entry way (which is near the bathroom) and in my bathroom there is a yellow stained ceiling and a small tear in the "drywall" or whatever it is that they use here which seems to be the result of a water leak "from above". There are four levels in my building, I live on the third. Therefore, if all things are logical in the world, its safe to assume something is leaking from my neighbors above. Let me just take this moment to say how excited I was for having the opportunity to experience first hand how problems like this are handled in Italy. Some prefer a hole in the head...
OK. Long story short, it took me one week and a lot of "hard" (physically and mentally) Italian conversations with my portinaio (i.e. grounds keeper) to find out what the proper process is to handle issues like this. Silly me... assuming there is such a process... I know better by now.
OK. So my apt is leased through my company (i.e. they signed the dotted line) so all issues are suppose to route through them. The girl I was working with was "molto occupato" very occupied/busy and just couldn't get around to making the call to my "landlord". Everyone I told about the "leak" said, "Don't let that wait" or "That is a big problem" or "Ah, very urgent". YA THINK! Geez! Finally, once a different lady "took over" I got an apt right away.
It is now 8:30am Monday morning, February 1st. My buzzer rings. Its Signora Terabucci (I believe she is 70-something yrs old and is the current "landlord" or "owner" of my apt) and another gentleman (who we will call "Luigi" b/c I can't remember his name). Luigi is some sort of contractor or something - I assumed. They come in and first I point to the ceiling in the entry way. Signora Terabucci looks up and says, "Oh mio dio, terribile, mamma mia". I then walk them into my bathroom hesitantly, worried the little old Italian lady was going to have a heart attack (as the bathroom was much, much worse) and pointed to the ceiling again. I think she had a minor heart attach... she started talking really fast and saying some really bad words about my neighbors above. It is safe to assume she has had similar problems in the past with these particular people.
Then she asks me "Quando" which implied the question, "When did this happen" I told her I was on vacation and when I got home on January 7th, this is what I saw. She flipped out asking me why it took so long for me to call her and how urgent of a matter this was... I didn't have the energy or patience to remind her that the country we currently live in functions completely and totally without process or any sense of urgency. So instead I told her my office needed to call (in broken Italian). She didn't understand and that is par for the course... I just smiled.
After some poking and prodding of the bathroom ceiling, Luigi goes upstairs to see if my neighbors were home. Five minutes later Luigi comes back with two more Italian men. Hey look at that, its my neighbors I've never met. I now have three Italian men and Signora Terabucci in my little apartment. The two neighbors see Signora Terabucci and one of them (we will call "Mario") immediately rolled his eyes a put his hands in a praying position and shaking them up and down ( a VERY common expression used to emphasis the current emotions their feeling - I call it "Talking with hands").
The two men have the opportunity to inspect the "problem at hand". They are all talking at the same time and the decibel level begins to rise. I think to myself, "If three of you would just shut up for two seconds and listen I could probably get to work a lot quicker". It is not how they do things here - in general. The culture is very consistent in this manner - they talk over eachother constantly. I hear Mario say in Italian "It could be your leak, it could be my leak, we do not know." There goes any hope for the logical approach I mentioned earlier. Signora Terabucci goes off and you could tell she was throwing accusations all over the place.... very entertaining but not helpful, and this is when Mario says, "questo sono inventzione" which translates exactly to "That you are inventing." I laughed out loud.
After a lot more bickering, hundreds of pictures and each of them walking in and out of my bathroom (very very small bathroom) 10-15 times each, the result was that Signora Terabucci would contact her lawyer and send the "proper documentation" to my neighbors insisting they investigate the leak, and if confirmed it is their leak - they fix it.
There is a small chance my ceiling will be fixed before my 4th floor neighbors become roommates.
I will NEVER start a Monday that way again. I will wait until at least Tuesday - believe me it is worth it.
Amore a tutti! Buona notte e ciao!
Jme
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