Bedside Manners

Less than a week after my emergency, I find myself back in Emergency. The Italian male nurse recognizes me with a friendly wave, a huge smile and a warm “Ciao!” He summons the on-call Doctor Detta who was expecting me for the second follow-up appointment (in the ER notwithstanding).

The male nurse inquires if my previous ER companion (referring to 16 year old Maria) is my younger sister; apparently, we look similar.

Allow me a break in the proceedings to interject a visual: my complexion is pale and dry (from lack of circulation); my eye-sockets are hallow (from lack of sleep); my hair is greasy (from lack of bathing); one half of one leg is shaven (from a trim by said male nurse); my right eyeball is blood-hemorrhaged (from the blood thinning medicine); and with how I feel, let’s just say, not a youthful early 40's much less a spring-chicken.

I can therefore deduce with confidence that my fledgling companion and I are not akin to sisters. Never mind, I took the compliment.

Doctor Detta prescribes more antibiotics, cleansing solution, and gauze wraps for my laceration; eye drops for my right eye; and bacterial cultures for my stomach. I’m to see her again, in the ER, in four days time.

After she departs, the male nurse personally supplies me up with my prescription – so I wouldn’t have to buy it in the Farmacia – and expresses his sorrow at not working ER in four days. I took the compliment.

And with another friendly wave, huge smile and warm “Ciao!” he went off to cheer the next patient.

--

“Did you happen to catch the name of the attentive male nurse?” I ask sweet Leonora on our ride back from town.

“Yes. It’s Fabio.”

I knew it.