Being ill in Italy certainly was not on the itinerary but as Lady Helen explained to her worried friends and family – it was better than the alternative!    Stuff happens so when life hands you lemons make limoncello.

On one particular day Her Ladyship was feeling pretty exhausted and only left her  room after 9. She made her way to the breakfast cafe and to her surprise found a farmers market set up in the hospital courtyard. Wow. So she  bought some lovely Rossa tomatoes, a crisp lettuce, baby marrows and a punnet of strawberries. She took them back to the hotel and put them in the fridge – now she had lovely fresh ingredients to add to her meagre suppers.

Nothing nicer than an Italian Market

After her usual Italian Colazione of and Americano and Croissant al cioccolato  she took the Earl a yogurt and some strawberries.  Lady Helen was and still is a strict Banter which means carbs are not part of her diet.  But when travelling she has a rule – Do as the locals do, dress as the locals dress, Eat as the locals eat, When in Rome etc.  Otherwise you just make life difficult and it’s bad manners to offend your hosts.
She thought she was acting exactly like an Italian should until she complimented the assistant in the cafe.  “Italiano caffe – buono”  Italian coffee – good.   The reply – “Si Italiano caffe – buono – Americano – non e buono.”  Oh dear – that’s why she’d looked at Lady Helen with an expression of disapproval every time she ordered.   L.H. did indeed enjoy the odd espresso – but for breakfast she preferred to linger over the longer drink.  It was part of the relaxation she needed before spending the day nursing a sick husband!

As she was to stay longer in her Spartan Accommodation than planned she decided during her break to go in search of some things to make it more comfortable.  There weren’t many shops close to the hospital so she hoped the supermarket would be able to accommodate her needs. A young boy of about 14 asked if she needed help. She said, “Palare Inglese?” “Yes he replied,  “I am not Italian. I am Romanian. I speak better English than Italian.”   How lucky was she! He helped her find eggs and wine but said they didn’t stock things like soap dishes and towels.  “But,” said he “if you exit the market and then turn left and left again, you will find a Chinese shop. They will have what you want.”
She hadn’t realised there was such a shop so close by – and what an amazing place – better than The Crazy Store. It had absolutely everything – clothes, kitchen utensils, crockery, cutlery, electrical goods – you name it they had it.   She browsed for ages and then left with a beach towel, a porcelain bowl to use in the micro, a shower thingy to hold her soap and shampoo, a sharp knife, a proper glass for her wine and a small chopping board so she could make her own salads. It only cost a few euros for the lot and it would make her sojourn there a tad more comfortable.
She told the Chinese owner, “Tuo negozio e buono” your shop is good. He beamed at her and as she was leaving called her back and gave her a small tube of toothpaste as a gift. How sweet!

Chinese shop cram-packed with goodies

The charming owner

This made a huge difference in the tiny shower

Little thing to make life easier

That evening The Captain and his Admiral came to bid their friends farewell as they would be going on to their next destination – Diamante.   “Hopefully you will be able to join us soon after you’re discharged.” they said.

Although the hospital food was good The Earl had been craving chicken wraps – not on the menu and not easy to find.  But The Gooselinis, however, found a place and brought him a takeaway.

Thanks to The Captain and Admiral for finding a special treat for The Earl

When L.H. returned to the hotel she met a young man who was in a leg cast. He was to have surgery the following day. He could speak English and they had a lovely chat in the kitchen.  He too was due to go to Diamanté with his wife and 2 kids but had to cancel because of his soccer injury. So they commiserated together😢.    After sharing with this young man, Lady Helen felt better – she was not the only one with problems.

On the morning of the 24 August Lady Helen woke to the sound of a message on Whatsap.  Her darling sister had woken up at 3:30am worrying about her.  Later she found that this was the exact time that an earthquake hit Italy and she messaged L.H. to find out if she was okay.  As they were far from the scenes of devastation she was able to reassure her sister that all that was quaking were her nerves with the build up to The Earl’s surgery.

That afternoon Lady Helen sorted out some clothing and packed a small bag.  Their guardian angel, Filippo had organised for her to spend two nights in the Hospital Hotel so she could be close to the Earl or the first day or two after his surgery which would take place the following day.

As Murphy’s Law would have it the trains were late – a most unusual occurrence in Italy.  Perhaps it was related to the Earthquake 300km away?

There were lots of announcements in Italian and even when they came through in English they were difficult to hear above the noise of the loud, excitable Italians who were freaking out over the delays.   Two young boys realised that she was Inglese and politely told her that her train would be leaving from a different platform.  They’d read the board correctly but in fact the train had been cancelled so she had to trek back to Platform 7 again and there she waited another half an hour before the next train to Arechi arrived.
Checking into the little hotel, which was run by The Lions, was not an easy exercise.  The receptionist was in a wheelchair and her English was non-existent.   LH. told her in Italian that she would write her details in the book for her but she would not allow it and copied everything down from her passport.  Then she prattled something off  that sounded like directions to her room but she didn’t give her the key.  So she said, “Chiave, per favore.”  (key please) The old lady pointed to the key on the hook behind the desk –  and that’s how L.H.  found out which number she  was in!

The Accommodation was cheap and cheerful

It was like a boarding school room

Clean but no toilet seat

Tiny shower – not for the oversized

It provided for all ones basic needs

Lady Helen then asked her about meals.    “Domani,” she kept saying which L.H. knew meant tomorrow and finally worked out that she would only get vouchers for the Hospital restaurant the following day.  “Pizza qui,” she said.   “Pizz here”

No I can’t eat pizza -L.H. indicated that she had a sore tummy.  “Insalata per favore,” she begged.  She prattled away rapidly and L.H. finally got the word – negozio which means shop. The old lady pointed and waved her arms in a vague direction quite certain that her ladyship could figure out where to go.  Luckily Filippo arrived just before she left to visit The Earl and he told her that the supermarket had a lovely deli and that it would be open till 9 pm.
That evening the visit with The Earl went well and except for a few gripes about loose wires hanging from the television and cleaners who could do a better job if they put some effort into it, he was feeling pretty positive.  His tummy was still bleeding so L.H.  went to find a male nurse to fix it. She practised the sentence before she called him and when he heard what was wrong he came immediately and dressed the wound again.
Before she left she spoke to the male nurse at the desk again and asked if she could come in to see The Earl before his operation at midday.  With the use of his ITranslate and hers they managed to communicate and she was told that she should  be there at 9 and that they would will get him ready for surgery between 10 and 11.   It would be a four-hour operation.
She went back to her room to drop off all the stuff she’d taken from The Earl as he would not be returning to that ward.   Then she walked to the wonderfully recommended supermarket and came back with some delicious Italian food.  She had to buy plastic knives and forks to eat it with and she ate from the containers as her lady host had no plate to offer her. However, there was a small kitchen with a communal fridge, tiny microwave oven and a hot plate to cook on.  She ate her meager meal of Italian delights and then sat down to write an email to family and friends.

Early the next morning The Earl rang to say he had been admitted to the cardiac ward.  “They are talking about surgery,” he said.

In South Africa there would be a million forms to fill in, Medical Aid consulted to see how much, if anything, they would cover and the Hospital Admin would want to see the colour of your money before you could cross the threshold of the hospital, dying or not!

She expected the same would be true at San Leonardo but nobody seemed in the least bit concerned about how they were going to pay. So armed with their medical insurance papers and her practiced Italian sentences she set off to settle things at the hospital.
She  had hardly slept a wink the night before but the adrenalin gave her energy to cope.  Upon arrival at the cardiac ward into which the Earl had been admitted she was confronted by a firmly locked red door. Other visitors prattled at her in Italian and it was clear that neither she nor they would be allowed in so she Whatsap called The Earl. “Tell those Mafia nurses to let me in,”she demanded.

A stern male nurse appeared and told her to return at 6:30 – visiting hours.

“Io besogne palare il medico.” “I need to talk to a doctor,” she pleaded.

Eventually the duty doctor who had limited English appeared.  He wouldn’t allow her in either so Lady Helen decided that she’d better just call the emergency number on her insurance forms and give them what information she could.  This turned out to be the right thing to do.

“I’m in Italy,”she explained to the amazing consultant at the other end of the line, “Nobody understands a word I’m saying and they won’t let me talk to my husband on the other side of a big red door!  And I’m scared I’m going to run out of airtime talking to you.”  “Oh dear,” she said  “That is very stressful for you.  I am so sorry you’re going through this on your holiday.   Now you hang up, get as much information as you can and I will ring you back in five minutes.  I will need your names, passport numbers, dates of departure from South Africa, Insurance number and the name of the hospital.”

“Yes – I have all that information,” said  L.H.   “I will wait for you to ring back. Thank you.”

Her Ladyship was greatly relieved and felt so much better after hearing a nice South African voice who spoke perfect English.   And just before she rang back the doctor reappeared and allowed her to see The Earl who had managed to get through to him that he and his wife needed to communicate to ensure that the insurance problems were timeously sorted out.  He confirmed that surgery would be necessary and that no they would not allow him to fly to South Africa to have it there!

The nice South African consultant rang back and and they were able to furnish her with all the required details – SA doctor’s name, exact date of his stent op two years previously, no the doctors here won’t let him fly home etc. etc.

“Do I need to fill in the form and email it to you?” asked L.H.

“No came the reply – we will now send all these details to Discovery and let you know what they will cover.  Just give me three hours and we’ll chat again.”

Lady Helen was allowed to stay and chat to her husband for a few minutes. While she was there a man in a white coat appeared.  “My name is Filippo,” he said.  “They told me there is an English patient with no Italian here and asked me to come and chat to him.” He was a retired professor and volunteered at the hospital.  He was charming and friendly and told the Earl he would visit him every day while he was there.  Little did they know then what a guardian angel he would prove to be.