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.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Oggi Molti Idioti *
Warning: Much Ranting Ahead
I was under the impression that Wednesday was the day I could spring my mom out of The Joint. I did some power Googling and found a big sporting goods store just about a 5-10 minute walk from the apartment, where I could pick up some hiking poles for my mom. There was a sales clerk just inside the door, and I asked her if they had "hiking poles" while I mimicked the ski-like arm motions. She looked at me in a judgmental way, like you obviously don't do sports, and she said, "No, we have nothing." I breezed right past her and headed for the hiking department, where I found several brands and different quality grades of hiking poles. I picked out the sturdiest ones they had and headed for the cash register where my friend was ringing things up. I don't know if she understood, but I plunked them down on the counter and said, "THIS is what I wanted." She tried to send me away and now here I am spending 100 euros in her store. She was too busy yacking with her co-worker when she gave me my change to end the transaction properly by acknowledging my patronage, so I loudly said "thank you" as I flew out the door. This set the tone for my day at the hospital.
I finally arrived at my mom's room after visiting hours had ended, so I expected to see her sitting in a chair and ready to go. Nope. She said that even though yesterday an orthopedist said she could be released today, this morning the doctor said she will be staying and undergoing physical therapy, but she could not go anywhere without CRUTCHES (huh?!) and a brace would not do her much good. (Don't know if it was the same or different doctor.) The icing on the cake was that he said he could not obtain crutches, and we were to buy our own set. This is an orthopedic hospital! No crutches? My mom told him that he would have to call me to take care of that and he took down my phone number. (Of course he never called me.)
THAT'S when I blew my top and turned into either the Ugly American or the Pissed-Off Greek or all of the above. I said NO she is NOT doing those things; she is going home today. Several nurses came into the room (perhaps I was loud?) along with an English-speaking female doctor. My mother calmly explained the flip-flop doctor's decision to her, and then I started ranting, hand on hip and waving the hiking poles around: We WILL BE leaving Florence on Friday. She will NOT undergo physical therapy at this facility. I'm paying a FORTUNE to extend our stay in this city. We SACRIFICED our trip to Rome including the PAPAL AUDIENCE. We WILL BE flying to Napoli to get on a cruise leaving on Monday that is already ARRANGED AND PAID FOR. Furthermore, I spent 100 EUROS on hiking poles because the hospital LOST her cane. The doctor NEVER called me to say he wanted her to stay and she needed crutches (which is ridiculous anyway). And every day I come back to the hospital expecting a doctor to evaluate and release her is another 15 EUROS taxi fare each way and another day of my mom's "vacation" WASTED while she lays in a hospital bed, not to mention her MOBILITY DETERIORATING because no one is helping her to get up to move around. The doctor gave me the same song and dance I got from the doctor the other day, that she is not an orthopedist, but a gerontologist. She explained that everyone has to have a vascular ultrasound before being released to rule out a thrombosis (blood clot). I put in one more jab when I pointed out that OF COURSE thrombosis is an issue when you lay in a hospital bed for 5 days. Good grief. I finally shut my mouth before I pointed out that my mom has received NO ACTUAL MEDICAL TREATMENT while in the hospital; she's just laying in a bed. She could do that at the hotel!! Once the doctor figured out that I knew what I was talking about, and she knew I wasn't a happy camper, she said she would put a rush (ha ha ha) on the ultrasound. They would do it that afternoon so that my mom could be discharged tomorrow (Thursday). I left the hospital at 5:30 and still no ultrasound.
Tomorrow I will go to the hospital for the last time at 1:00 pm, the "visiting hour". We WILL BE discharged and arrange payment (they prefer bank transfer). We will leave the hospital and slowly, carefully enjoy a little bit of Firenze together again.
I was under the impression that Wednesday was the day I could spring my mom out of The Joint. I did some power Googling and found a big sporting goods store just about a 5-10 minute walk from the apartment, where I could pick up some hiking poles for my mom. There was a sales clerk just inside the door, and I asked her if they had "hiking poles" while I mimicked the ski-like arm motions. She looked at me in a judgmental way, like you obviously don't do sports, and she said, "No, we have nothing." I breezed right past her and headed for the hiking department, where I found several brands and different quality grades of hiking poles. I picked out the sturdiest ones they had and headed for the cash register where my friend was ringing things up. I don't know if she understood, but I plunked them down on the counter and said, "THIS is what I wanted." She tried to send me away and now here I am spending 100 euros in her store. She was too busy yacking with her co-worker when she gave me my change to end the transaction properly by acknowledging my patronage, so I loudly said "thank you" as I flew out the door. This set the tone for my day at the hospital.
I finally arrived at my mom's room after visiting hours had ended, so I expected to see her sitting in a chair and ready to go. Nope. She said that even though yesterday an orthopedist said she could be released today, this morning the doctor said she will be staying and undergoing physical therapy, but she could not go anywhere without CRUTCHES (huh?!) and a brace would not do her much good. (Don't know if it was the same or different doctor.) The icing on the cake was that he said he could not obtain crutches, and we were to buy our own set. This is an orthopedic hospital! No crutches? My mom told him that he would have to call me to take care of that and he took down my phone number. (Of course he never called me.)
THAT'S when I blew my top and turned into either the Ugly American or the Pissed-Off Greek or all of the above. I said NO she is NOT doing those things; she is going home today. Several nurses came into the room (perhaps I was loud?) along with an English-speaking female doctor. My mother calmly explained the flip-flop doctor's decision to her, and then I started ranting, hand on hip and waving the hiking poles around: We WILL BE leaving Florence on Friday. She will NOT undergo physical therapy at this facility. I'm paying a FORTUNE to extend our stay in this city. We SACRIFICED our trip to Rome including the PAPAL AUDIENCE. We WILL BE flying to Napoli to get on a cruise leaving on Monday that is already ARRANGED AND PAID FOR. Furthermore, I spent 100 EUROS on hiking poles because the hospital LOST her cane. The doctor NEVER called me to say he wanted her to stay and she needed crutches (which is ridiculous anyway). And every day I come back to the hospital expecting a doctor to evaluate and release her is another 15 EUROS taxi fare each way and another day of my mom's "vacation" WASTED while she lays in a hospital bed, not to mention her MOBILITY DETERIORATING because no one is helping her to get up to move around. The doctor gave me the same song and dance I got from the doctor the other day, that she is not an orthopedist, but a gerontologist. She explained that everyone has to have a vascular ultrasound before being released to rule out a thrombosis (blood clot). I put in one more jab when I pointed out that OF COURSE thrombosis is an issue when you lay in a hospital bed for 5 days. Good grief. I finally shut my mouth before I pointed out that my mom has received NO ACTUAL MEDICAL TREATMENT while in the hospital; she's just laying in a bed. She could do that at the hotel!! Once the doctor figured out that I knew what I was talking about, and she knew I wasn't a happy camper, she said she would put a rush (ha ha ha) on the ultrasound. They would do it that afternoon so that my mom could be discharged tomorrow (Thursday). I left the hospital at 5:30 and still no ultrasound.
Tomorrow I will go to the hospital for the last time at 1:00 pm, the "visiting hour". We WILL BE discharged and arrange payment (they prefer bank transfer). We will leave the hospital and slowly, carefully enjoy a little bit of Firenze together again.
OINK OINK OINK OINK OINK
* Today Many Idiots
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
An Intermediate Update on the "Mom Situation"
My mother finally saw an orthopedic doctor after laying in a hospital bed for four days. He said she can leave tomorrow (Wednesday). She asked him about a hip brace and he just ignored her question. Okay....... The only condition was that she was to contact her surgeon for clearance to continue our vacation (as opposed to just going home now). I know what we are all thinking: How is her surgeon in Florida, five thousand miles and six time zones away, supposed to be able to meaningfully clear her for travel??
So we called Orthopedic Specialists (my T-Mobile international service is a lifesaver) and spoke to his nurse as Dr. Graves was in surgery. She also asked the same question we all just asked, and took my mobile phone number for Dr. Graves to call me back. He never called back, so we'll just assume all is well so she can get the heck out of that institution. Instead of a wheelchair, my mom wants to try a cane. It's more physically challenging, but less of a pain to deal with. (The hospital LOST her cane, so I'll be shopping for assistance devices tomorrow morning.) I actually want her to try trekking poles; they are very helpful for balance (which is a big issue for her), uneven terrain (Firenze is cobblestone hell), and they relieve stress on lower joints. I really like mine, which are, of course, at home.
We will be staying in Firenze until Friday morning. The hotel moved us to their apartment on Piazza della Signoria at a reduced rate due to the circumstances. There is good news and bad news. The good news: It is gorgeous! Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a terrace view to die for (see photo). The bad news: No lift. It is a "first floor" apartment, not ground floor, which means we have to climb 33 steps up to the first floor. The steps are a manageable height and split up into segments, but not practical for a hip patient. (What were they thinking? They weren't; it probably never occurred to them.)
We intend to subsequently travel to Napoli on Friday, and then hop on the cruise ship on Monday, Oct. 8th. Or hobble.
So we called Orthopedic Specialists (my T-Mobile international service is a lifesaver) and spoke to his nurse as Dr. Graves was in surgery. She also asked the same question we all just asked, and took my mobile phone number for Dr. Graves to call me back. He never called back, so we'll just assume all is well so she can get the heck out of that institution. Instead of a wheelchair, my mom wants to try a cane. It's more physically challenging, but less of a pain to deal with. (The hospital LOST her cane, so I'll be shopping for assistance devices tomorrow morning.) I actually want her to try trekking poles; they are very helpful for balance (which is a big issue for her), uneven terrain (Firenze is cobblestone hell), and they relieve stress on lower joints. I really like mine, which are, of course, at home.
We intend to subsequently travel to Napoli on Friday, and then hop on the cruise ship on Monday, Oct. 8th. Or hobble.
God Has a Sense of Humor (or at least whimsy)
Today we were scheduled to take the train from Firenze to Rome, but could not because of my mom's hospitalization. Coincidentally (?) there is a transportation strike in Italy today. It's called a sciopero (pronounced SHO-per-o) and is planned and announced in advance. To me, that seems to lessen the impact of the strike when the public knows in advance and can work around it. What's the point?
Monday, October 1, 2012
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