Wednesday, April 22, 2015
In the Meantime
Since the 2012 Trip From Hell, my mom and I have taken two other vacations that were much more successful. In 2013, we took a Mediterranean cruise that concluded with several days in Rome, staying literally across the street from the Vatican Museums. In 2014, we spent 5 days in Rome at the Albergo Sole al Pantheon with a view of the Pantheon outside our hotel window. Then we took the bus to Florence where we spent 5 days smack in the city center at a charming guest house called Residenza della Signoria, which was conveniently next door to my favorite restaurant in Florence, Ristorante Paoli. The building dates back to the 14th century and the restaurant was opened in 1824. Beyond its impressive history, everything is superb and impeccably Tuscan. Most importantly, we were happy and healthy.
Buon Giorno!
As you can see, almost three years have passed since my last blog post. Things got even worse during that trip, including a second trip to another hospital, Ospedale Santa Maria Annunziata, in a town called Bagno a Ripoli, which was even further away from my home base in the Florence city center than the other hospital. I reached the point where I could not relive the stress of the situation by typing it out on this blog, so I just quit.
As my mom laid in her hospital bed in the "apartment," as they called it (aka a 4-bed room), I wandered the streets of Florence. Each day I visited her (roughly 50-euro round trip taxi rides), and bounced around various hotel rooms (included the quirky, creepy, haunted Hotel Paris), not knowing from day to day when they would release her. This was a nicer hospital that the other one, but their ways still pushed me the closest I've ever been to acting like an Ugly American.
Very long story short: After about a week in Hospital #2 we flew home. No trips to Rome or Napoli. No cruise. No refunds. The Trip From Hell.
As my mom laid in her hospital bed in the "apartment," as they called it (aka a 4-bed room), I wandered the streets of Florence. Each day I visited her (roughly 50-euro round trip taxi rides), and bounced around various hotel rooms (included the quirky, creepy, haunted Hotel Paris), not knowing from day to day when they would release her. This was a nicer hospital that the other one, but their ways still pushed me the closest I've ever been to acting like an Ugly American.
Very long story short: After about a week in Hospital #2 we flew home. No trips to Rome or Napoli. No cruise. No refunds. The Trip From Hell.
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