Calamity

21 September

This was not the way I envisioned my first trip to Italy to be starting out. Not in any of my imaginings and I'd had variations of what I would be doing, where I'd be going and with whom. Fine, so I had shed Thom and what we could be doing from the scenario several weeks ago. I had dreams of what Colin and I might attempt if that was ever a possibility; and it wasn't. But I had come up with some fun stuff for Pattie and I to do and places to explore while she was here. What I would do with the rest of the time I hadn't concluded yet. In any case, this wasn't it.

There were a few fortunate events taking place around me. Apparently one of the stewardesses had figured I was in a bad way. Her having done so led us to be helped out of the airport like I was old and decrepit. Alright, perhaps not so, but I was plunged into a wheel chair type thing and rolled around, rushed through customs and they had a courier? No I suppose he was the equivalent of a porter or baggage handler (though I don't know this for certain) retrieve all our worldly goods for us. If I hadn't been feeling so appallingly horrid I might have tried out my newest language skills, but that was just not going to happen readily. Another fortune was that the stewardess spoke English, probably better than I was right now and she stayed with us until we secured a cab. Now the problems were going to begin. We would have to rely on me.

"I have called ahead for you. They will be expecting you in thirty minutes. I do hope you are better soon."

We actually got in the car and got the door closed before 'Mario Andretti' left the starting line. Not that I cared. I wanted relief.

"How you holding up?"

"My clothes hurt."

"What?"

"My clothes hurt. Every part of my body aches and the clothes make it worse. Don't ask about the shoes."

"Me scusa, per quanto tempo è all'ospedale?"

(excuse me, how long to the hospital?)

"l'ospedale?, sono stato detto la clinica internazionale."

(hospital? I was told the international clinic)

"No, no, la Roma Ospedale Americano, per favore. Me aspettano."

(no, no the Rome American Hospital - They're expecting me)

I was taxing my brain as our driver threw up his hands, leaving the steering wheel to free lance, and then added a few expletives. I caught one or two. I didn't want to make him mad. I don't think he was particularly so, but I wasn't chancing it.

"Sono cosí spiacente per il malinteso quanto alla nostra destinazione."

(I am so sorry for the misunderstanding as to our destination)

"È belloè Sig.ra DeMore, lei sa che lei guarda molto malato. La prenderò lí non appena posso."

(It's fine Mrs. DeMore, you know you look very ill. I will get you there as soon as I can.)

I laid my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, but that became uncomfortable all too soon. My neck was hurting, throbbing and I had just used my throat more than I probably should have. I'd no choice. I looked over at Pattie hanging tight to the door rest with one hand and the seat with the other.

"You ok Di?"

I shook my head to indicate I was, but wasn't. I now couldn't decide what was causing more pain. My head, my face, my neck or the whole rest of my body. I more or less ignored the Nascar emulation of the driver. I just wanted to get to the hospital right now.

"gli autisti di idiota. le signore di scusa, siamo qui."

(idiot drivers. excuse ladies, we are here)

Maybe it was because it was Saturday, or just because it was Rome. I don't know. There may have been throngs of Americans here in mid September, suddenly taken ill. If they were at the hospital when I was, I didn't see them. To say it was Rome wasn't derogatory. It was a city, this was a hospital in a city. I live in a city. City hospitals are nothing, if not slow. Then again I was in Europe, the pace of life is slower, which in normal circumstances is delightful. Today it was intolerable. The only good the wait did me was that I laid across the chairs and rested, as best I could. Pattie took the time to wander around Rome near the hospital and also secure us transportation to Sangemini. The train tickets were of no use now, the same for the bus.

Four and a half hours, a diagnoses and antibiotics later; my strep throat, sinus infection and the rest of my baggage were being put into a rental car that would now take us to our hotel. The pain killer they had injected me with was working to full effect also. I wasn't feeling anything. Not the pain, the ground I was told I was walking on or the seat I was reclined into in the back of the car. Oh, I'd been this was before, years ago when I had another infection that was so bad I'd had to go to the hospital. You could say I was verging on la la land as we left Rome proper and headed north towards the mountains and Umbria.

"How long is it Di?"

"Say what? How long is what? What are you talking about? I don't think I want to divulge that type of information in front of our driver."

"Oh for Christ sake. The ride, the trip here, how long till we get to our hotel?"
"Oh hell, I don't remember."

I leaned forward over the front passenger seat.

"Scusarme. Appena per quanto tempo una spinta è questo a. ..where sono andando ancora?"

(Excuse me. Just how long a drive is this to...where are we going again?)

"Esserà il. ..well, che hanno dati me a quell'ospedale. Non ricordare. L'autista, lei ricorda? Spero che lei fa. Sarebbe una cosa buona per lei sapere che immagino. Non se lei fa la spinta poi giusta su. Dovunque."

(Must be the...well, whatever they gave me at that hospital. Can't remember. Driver, do you remember? I hope you do. It would be a good thing for you to know I imagine. If you don't then just drive on. Wherever.)

"Ehi, sono spedito. Come il diamine ciò ha fatto succede? Forse queste droghe sono una cosa buona. Il Pattie me ascolta girovaga su in italiano."

(Hey, I'm fluent. How the heck did that happen? Maybe these drugs are a good thing. Pattie listen to me ramble on in Italian.)

"Spiacente. hehehe, forgot you don't speak Italian. Forgot I don't either. Not too shabby for not knowing what the heck I'm saying eh?"

(Sorry)

"What do you mean you don't know what you're saying. What the...what did you say to him?"

"Hold on, let me think. What did I say? Hmm. Oh yeah, did he know where we were going cause I can't remember and how far is it. Mentioned about the drugs they gave me back there in Rome. Working wonderfully right now."

"No pain then?"

"Nada, zip, zilch, zero...."

"I get the idea."

"Okey dokey then."

"And so?"

"Hmmmm?"

"How far?"

"Oh, I already knew that. Hell, I studied every damn map, chart, mileage log and info site I could the past few months."

"And?"

"Right. Around a hundred-eighty miles, give or take."

"Three hours more? Jeezus."

"Ah, not to worry my dear little Pattie, they drive like maniacs around here."

"But we're in the mountains."

"Your point? I think the speed limit is somewhere in the vicinity of seventy."

I leaned forward again. If the driver was distracted or annoyed by me I couldn't tell and I don't recall.

"Scusarme. Come digiuna andiamo? Significo nelle montagne qui? È molto bello, amerei vedere il panorama alcuni di al contrario di un offuscamento di verde e l'oro e l'arancia e tutto i colori di altro. Oh, e blu. Acqua destra blu? Non bene tutto è. È a volte dipendente sul fogliame lungo le sue banche e come il prisma di colori riflette di nuovo ai suoi occhi, la sua destra?"

(Excuse me. How fast do we go?  I mean in the mountains here? It is very pretty, I would love to see some of scenery as opposed to a blur of green and gold and orange and all those other colors. Oh, and blue. Water's blue right? Well not all of it is. It's sometimes dependent on the foliage along its banks and how the prism of colors reflects back to your eyes, right?)

The driver, who we had found out was really named Mario, turned back and looked at Pattie, who in seeing him yanked me back to my seat. He was pleading with her.

"Capisco che non è bene. So che è stato data qualcosa per il dolore. Lei può controllare la sua mente erranti e la sua lingua?"

(I understand signora DeMore, she is not well. I know she has been given something for pain. Can you control her wandering mind and tongue?)

She immediately turned to me. Even if she didn't understand what he was saying....she did. She grabbed my arms, turned me to her and stared directly into my face. Eye to eye.

"Diane...shut up!!!!"

"Perché, che ho detto? Ooops, there I go again. What did I say?"

"Does it matter? I think you pissed him off."

Then I saw him peek at his rear view mirror.

"Signore, da dove abbiamo cominciato al suo hotel me porterà di due ore. Meno se il tempo sta cosí piacevole. Nessuna pioggia."

(Ladies, from where we started to your hotel will take me about two hours. Less if the weather stays so nice. No rain.)

"Two hours Pat."

She rolled her eyes and feigned being interested in the goings on outside the car.

"You could have saved time and just asked him straight out you know."

"I did, didn't I?"

"Oh Christ."

"What?"

On looking back I suppose one could say the combination of lack of proper sleep and the fabulous drug pulsing through my system had put me in a rather bizarre state of mind. I'm not certain one could distinguish which actions I took came from what, or if either was the cause. Maybe I was just feeling great finally close to my planned destination. I'm positive neither of my driving companions cared what was the cause.

"Hey, Mario, can you open the moon roof thing there?"

"Diane. Look at me."

"Why?"

"Are you beyond tired? Are you losing a grip?"

"No, I don't think so? Something giving you pause?"

"We don't need that thing opened. Besides, you asked him in English."

"Right. Well, the Italian is escaping as we speak. Wait, hold on."

I leaned forward for a third time and taped his shoulder. He turned slightly towards me with a mild frown of agitation, which I ignored completely.

"Mario?"

I pointed to the window in the roof and did get out the word or verb 'to open' and wheeled my hand like I was rolling down a window.

"Yes? No?"

He shook his head and hit the button on the panel that made the window glide fully open. I sat back and looked at Pattie, who was none too pleased, and smiled.

"Isn't it great? All that fresh mountain air? Hold on."

I unleashed my seat belt (for about the fifth time) and stood up against the back of the front seats then climbed onto the back seat and pushed my head out of the window. My hair blew into my face from behind. I could barely see the trees and rocks and all the rest of it whizzing by at around sixty or seventy miles an hour, I didn't care. Then I pulled myself up further and had my arms resting on the roof, whereupon I immediately went out further and found myself sitting on the roof with my legs dangling inside. I heard Pattie scream and felt two hands latch firmly onto my ankles. I looked down into the car. Then to calm her a bit I let her know we could still communicate.

"Hey, it's great up here. You should see how close we are to the edge there."

"You've gone over the edge Diane, get back in here."

"No, no, we're not that close to the edge. There's room yet between the tires and falling off the face of the earth."

"Oh shit."

"I can see down the sides of the cliffs here. There's a river or some such thing down there. Could be a big lake, can't tell for sure."

The once tight grip on my ankles became vise-like on my shins as Pattie started to pull harder to try and retrieve me back to safety.

"This is great. Explore Italy from the roof of a car. You really should see this Pattie."

Then the car slowed down until it came to a complete stop.

"Mario? Che ha torto? Fuori di Gas?"

(Mario? What's wrong? Out of Gas?)
"Signora Gallagher, per favore, me aiuta col suo amico. È andata troppo lontano, ha indossato la mia pazienza. Anche sono spaventato per lei."

(Mrs. Gallagher, please, help me with your friend. She has gone too far, has worn my patience. Even I am scared for her.)

Uh, oh. I knew I was in trouble now. Even if she didn't understand him, she did and so did I. I think it was his hand gestures and the look on his face. It wasn't anger, it was concern. I didn't need any more assistance or persuasion as I got back down into the car, settled in my seat and re-hooked my belt.

"Sorry all."

I sat in silence as we pulled back to lightening speed, Mario closed the moon roof and turned onto the final leg of our trip. All I could think about now was sleep.