Six Days in the Hospital

I usually get a sinus infection about twice a year.  So when the symptoms popped up again last Fall and continued through January, I kept treating them like always, with herbs and using the NeilMed, thinking that I could fight it off.  But this time I also developed a strong dry cough.  There was no doubt in my mind that I needed medical attention.

So that fateful Sunday morning, February 8, Mike drove me to the Pronto Soccorso (emergency room) at the hospital in Atri, just 20 minutes away.  Unlike ERs in the States, the first question I was asked was “Why are you here?”  They then assessed the severity of my condition.

I was immediately moved to a large room with six or seven beds.  There were curtains that could be drawn to partially provide some level of privacy, but that was not done at that time.  Two nurses came to take my blood pressure and check my oxygen level.  I watched the monitor display an O2 level of 76.  The nurses then tested themselves, to check to see if the readings were correct.  Then they tested me again.  This time, it was 75.  They looked at each other, then immediately ran to get an oxygen tank and hook me up. 

They inserted an IV, took blood, and began a drip of some kind. They gave me drops on my tongue for the cough, and almost instantly the coughing subsided.  They brought pills, antibiotics I think, and a corticosteroid.   From here, it is all kind of a blur for me.  Mike sat in a chair by bed, keeping a close eye on me.  About 11:30 that evening, the nurses asked Mike if he was going to stay, but recommended that he go home and get some sleep.  I wasn’t going anywhere, so he reluctantly left.  Soon, the room I was in filled with other patients, male and female together.  No one seemed to care.  We all rested fitfully that night.

Monday morning was a flurry of activity.  Other patients out and in. Mike arrived about 9:00 a.m.  I was taken for a CT scan. 

That afternoon I was transported to the third floor of the hospital.  We were surprised on entering the wing of the hospital that displayed a big sign:  “Dott. Enrico Marini, Director, Department of Internal and Special Medicine”.  Surprised, because Dott. Marini is Mike’s cardiologist.  He also is on the staff of University of Chieti Hospital.  There is something reassuring about having the head of the department as your doctor.  And it turned out that he was also my doctor while at the hospital.

Tuesday morning, he walked casually into my room, chatted with me about how things were going (he speaks English), how I was feeling.  He sat on the edge of my bed, and he talked about the treatment plans.  This is when he said I would be there in the hospital for 5-7 days, maybe more, depending on how well I responded to treatment.  I do not ever recall a doctor being so personal.  His concern was for my well-being.  He was not there to solve a problem, but, rather, he was there to heal a patient. 

So there I was.  Hooked up to an IV in my right arm, and giving blood from my left arm.  A technician took 13 vials of blood.  (Mike asked me if he was wearing a cape, hahaha).

The room I was in had three beds with no curtains to separate them, thus no privacy.  In the bed near the windows was a woman named Gabriella, the middle bed was occupied by a woman too ill to speak and she was soon moved to more intensive care. In her place a nice woman named Silvia arrived.  Gabriella and Silvia became instant friends, sharing stories and comparing symptoms. 

In our room was a wardrobe for our personal items.  No locks.  And a small dinette table with four chairs.  The bathroom was very small, and had no hot water, as I discovered while taking a shower. 

The hospital is very strict with visiting hours:  1:00-2:00 p.m. and 6:00-7:00 p.m.  In a way, this was good, because otherwise Mike would have been at my side all day, sitting in an uncomfortable dinette chair.  This way, he was forced to get out and run errands or whatever. 

Every day the room was cleaned.  The sheets were changed by a friendly crew.  One male attendant sang and danced while making the beds.  The woman who mopped the floor smiled as she entered the room.  One day, she even washed the window.  We (my roommates and I) made a point of thanking her for doing good work.  She smiled and seemed to appreciate being recognized.

Hospitals in Italy focus on providing quality health care.  Nice amenities are not included.  Patients must bring their own toiletries, towels, night gowns, slippers, and whatever comforts they may need or want.  Mike did an amazing job of putting together a duffle of my night gowns, soap, towels, lotions, an eye mask, and my pillow.  I was fine with that, because it was actually better to have my own things.

Days began early:  Lights on at 5:30 a.m.  Whoa, who wakes up that early?  I guess we do.  Breakfast was a normal Italian breakfast of tea or milk (no coffee) and dry packaged biscuits.  Lunch was brought to us at about 12:30.  No choice, you take what they serve.  But that was not a problem because every meal was quite good.  Dinner usually arrived around about 6:00 p.m., a somewhat lighter meal than lunch, but, again, very tasty.  Water bottles were brought with lunch and dinner. Lights out at 9:30.  Early to bed, early to rise, right?

Thank goodness for my new Samsung phone that unfolds into a mini-tablet.  Mike brought my earphones so I could watch the Olympics but I somehow lost them, so he bought new ones for me. He’s the best, right?  I also watched some old TV shows, like The Closer, and of course the news.  I found a link for EuroNews English that I think is more objective than the US news stations.  Also, BBC News is good.

I cannot say enough good things about the nursing staff.  They were all very attentive and caring.  Definitely well trained.  In fact, because my cough had let up, they had stopped giving me the cough drops, but I started coughing again on Thursday, and a nurse walked past my room and heard me.  She didn’t even stop in my room – she went straight to get the medicine and came into my room with the drops.  No questions asked, she said “Ti ho sentito tossire”  (I heard you cough).   

Throughout my six-day stay I was on oxygen, occasionally a nebulizer, and several times blood was drawn.  My potassium level dropped significantly, and they began treating that.

Finally, on Saturday, they said I could go home but with multiple scripts for medications and an oxygen tank. The oxygen tank lasted several days and my blood oxygen levels were improving. We were wondering what we should do next and out of blue a much larger oxygen tank was delivered. Mike was delighted as it was the spitting image of a droid from Star Wars, hello R4-D4. This seemed like overkill and our friend, Monica, a retired respiratory therapist, confirmed that continued use would lead to dependency. Mike pushed R4 into our utility room and he is patiently waiting for a pickup.

My medical friends reminded me that each day in a hospital translates into a whole week of recovery time. Surely not but alas, it seems true. I have slowly been recovering my strength.

We hosted a lunch to celebrate Mike getting his Italian driver’s license. (I reminded him that I did not a recall a similar celebration two years ago when I got mine!)

I had to reschedule my left eye cataract surgery and I just got that done last week. It was a little creepy to have them doing that while I was awake but not painful. I am amazed that after getting just one eye done, I can function without glasses. If I cover my fixed left eye, my right is still blurry but my brain compensates and I don’t wear glasses except for the ridiculous sunglasses that Mike bought me. When I gave him the look, he just shrugged and said that those were not the worst ones he could have gotten. The downside is that I have a strict regime of three different eyedrops, eight times a day. We used Claude AI to translate the detailed Italian care instructions into a single spreadsheet page.

I have been getting out a bit, trips to the Atri hospital for a follow-up CT scan, more blood tests, and a visit with my primary care provider.  I’ve gone grocery shopping and I’ve met with friends for coffee, for apertivi, and for dinner.  We took a day trip with our friend Monica to a small nearby hill town called Manoppello to visit a beautiful church that has a shroud of Jesus, and we had a delightful lunch.  Our friends Chris and Susie hosted a dinner for 12 people to initiate their beautiful new kitchen and to introduce us to their new neighbors.

If that isn’t enough activity, we’ve been working closely with our consultant, Leonardo, on plans to “reclaim” our attic.  This is the term used when remodeling attic space and turning it into a living space. Ours will have two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchenette, and a nice living area and will be used only for our guests.  We’ve run into several bumps getting approvals from the famous Italian bureaucracy, but we are getting close to starting the renovation. I won’t even attempt to guess when it will be finished.

I’ll have cataract surgery on my right eye in a couple of weeks, then two weeks of drops again.  (sigh)

We are thinking May would be a good time to take a few days off and visit Malta.  It’s a short flight from Pescara and has nice warm beaches as well as interesting archaeological sites.