Being sick always makes me feel guilty, like I'm faking it. I am assuming that this is the subconscious "mature Eleanor" reaction to always being told that no, I was not sick, I was "just faking it" when I was a kid. I'm not pointing any fingers. There were many people who were sympathetic to my youthful ailments. There were also those who were not, and I think I got it in my head somewhere along the way that if I just "buck up" and ignore it it would go away.
Paola, fortunately, is not one of those people who disregards illness. She is a care-taker to the teeth, a thermometer tucked among her apron folds. Her first response when I told her I was feeling a bit crappy was to cram my mouth full of potent balsamic/ginseng/vitamin C honey. It tastes disgusting, to be honest, but made my throat tingle in an uplifting sort of way. She then had Diego the Youngest juice a pile of oranges (he was happy to oblige. I've never met a boy more eager to tackle any and all sorts of projects) and sent me back down stairs "to bed!" On this I was happy to oblige (I've never known a girl more eager to follow instructions than myself, as long as those instructions specifically say to go lay in bed at 3pm). Figured I would take the evening to rest, let this little cold pass, no harm done.
The next morning though, I awoke with aches and chills. Actually, FL woke me up, because apparently I had woken him up by whimpering "like a puppy" and coughing violently. My temperature was taken, revealing a low fever, and more honey was ingested to soothe my throat.
A temperature! I haven't had a temperature possibly ever! Once again my subconscious sent out a wave of emotion, this time allowing me to relax and even feel a bit smug. A temperature was "proof"; without it I had nothing, I was as good as putting on a show. Sad, I know, but it comforted me and I managed to scrounge up some Nyquil tablets in the bottom of my suitcase and went back to sleep.
The next morning Paola took me to the doctor. Expecting nothing but loving coos and heavy drugs from the empathetic Italian illness warriors, I was shocked when, upon being diagnosed with a slight case of the flu, Paola pointed to me and cried, "well, it's her fault! She never wears shoes! Or dries her hair!" Hmph.
So I was ordered two days bed rest. Yesterday I felt downright terrible, and spent the day with the shutters closed, propped on a pile of pillows, watching Harry Potter 1-3 and sipping tea. FL came home to check on me and found me as such. My guilt instincts perked up, and I mumbled sweetly, eyes as big as a baby lamb's, "I hate being sick", to which he replied, "oh, I'm sure" rather sarcastically. Hmph.
He busted me out about 6:30pm, and we went to pick up a pizza. I had on my pajamas and a long winter coat, a roll of toilet paper tucked in my pocket, as my nose was running like a faucet. We were waiting in the car for the pizza to be ready, and I suddenly got a little nervous.
"Piccolo," I said, "don't let your mom know I left the house. She'll kill me".
Just then his phone rang. A conversation in Friulano ensued, and FL's voice took on the tone it always does when speaking with his father- gruff and manly, but reverent.
"Oh, my God," I said fearfully, "what did he say?"
"He asked me who the hell I thought I was staying out till 7pm while my poor girlfriend was in bed sick as a dog. He said I had better come home right now."
"And he's so right, you asshole," I teased.
"I know! I'm such a jerk. Some sweet girl moves all the way to Italy for me, and I run around drinking beer all evening while she's laid up. Maybe if I come home with a pizza she'll forgive me?"
"Probably. I know the type. She can be easily bought with food."
So we snuck back in, me and my fevered self careful to not be seen by the sweet, protective in-laws. Harry Potter no.4 was popped into the DVD, and I snuggled in to eat my cheese pizza, the only solid food I could even imagine ingesting. By 10pm we were both out cold.
* * * * * * * * * *
The house is so so so so so almost ready! We went with blues and teals and greens, and some of the left over fuchsia from the bedroom was used by moi to paint little accents throughout (ex: random kitchen tiles, thermostat). Our bathroom is KILLER. Absolutely gorgeous, and thinking back to what in the world it was when we first moved in makes it all the more incredible. I didn't even take a photo of the original bathroom, it was too horrendous. Just know that it was tiny and cramped and mold-ridden and dingy, and now...now it is just glorious! Does justice to the two spectacular views from each of the windows. There's still a lot to do, and as soon as I am up and about again I will tackle it all systematically. Cannot believe that what we have now is even what we had a month ago. I am so absolutely blessed, it takes my breath away sometimes.
And I never got to blog about Marion and Kallah's trip! It was wonderful, just as I had imagined it would be. I think they liked it here a lot, and the weather was stunning. We took a long hike saturday, after a home cooked lunch of risotto with sausage and white asparagus. On our hike we were blessed to run into those sweet nuns I wrote about once. They spoke such kind words and were happy to meet some of my family. Saturday night we popped in to Udine, which was bustling and beautiful as always. Late that night we went to an old wine cellar, built in the 1600's that is now used as a concert venue. We saw a singer/songwriter who performed "Georgia". I didn't start to cry till I saw Marion crying. Sunday the weather was perfect, and we rode our vespas through the hills of Collio, into Slovenia. It really is such a stunning place, this little pocket of the world. I am a lucky girl to have ended up here. Dropped them at the airport that evening, and they promised to return. I can't wait.
Ok, going to go make some more tea and try and eat a banana. Maybe have another little sleep. Doctor's orders.
Paola, fortunately, is not one of those people who disregards illness. She is a care-taker to the teeth, a thermometer tucked among her apron folds. Her first response when I told her I was feeling a bit crappy was to cram my mouth full of potent balsamic/ginseng/vitamin C honey. It tastes disgusting, to be honest, but made my throat tingle in an uplifting sort of way. She then had Diego the Youngest juice a pile of oranges (he was happy to oblige. I've never met a boy more eager to tackle any and all sorts of projects) and sent me back down stairs "to bed!" On this I was happy to oblige (I've never known a girl more eager to follow instructions than myself, as long as those instructions specifically say to go lay in bed at 3pm). Figured I would take the evening to rest, let this little cold pass, no harm done.
The next morning though, I awoke with aches and chills. Actually, FL woke me up, because apparently I had woken him up by whimpering "like a puppy" and coughing violently. My temperature was taken, revealing a low fever, and more honey was ingested to soothe my throat.
A temperature! I haven't had a temperature possibly ever! Once again my subconscious sent out a wave of emotion, this time allowing me to relax and even feel a bit smug. A temperature was "proof"; without it I had nothing, I was as good as putting on a show. Sad, I know, but it comforted me and I managed to scrounge up some Nyquil tablets in the bottom of my suitcase and went back to sleep.
The next morning Paola took me to the doctor. Expecting nothing but loving coos and heavy drugs from the empathetic Italian illness warriors, I was shocked when, upon being diagnosed with a slight case of the flu, Paola pointed to me and cried, "well, it's her fault! She never wears shoes! Or dries her hair!" Hmph.
So I was ordered two days bed rest. Yesterday I felt downright terrible, and spent the day with the shutters closed, propped on a pile of pillows, watching Harry Potter 1-3 and sipping tea. FL came home to check on me and found me as such. My guilt instincts perked up, and I mumbled sweetly, eyes as big as a baby lamb's, "I hate being sick", to which he replied, "oh, I'm sure" rather sarcastically. Hmph.
He busted me out about 6:30pm, and we went to pick up a pizza. I had on my pajamas and a long winter coat, a roll of toilet paper tucked in my pocket, as my nose was running like a faucet. We were waiting in the car for the pizza to be ready, and I suddenly got a little nervous.
"Piccolo," I said, "don't let your mom know I left the house. She'll kill me".
Just then his phone rang. A conversation in Friulano ensued, and FL's voice took on the tone it always does when speaking with his father- gruff and manly, but reverent.
"Oh, my God," I said fearfully, "what did he say?"
"He asked me who the hell I thought I was staying out till 7pm while my poor girlfriend was in bed sick as a dog. He said I had better come home right now."
"And he's so right, you asshole," I teased.
"I know! I'm such a jerk. Some sweet girl moves all the way to Italy for me, and I run around drinking beer all evening while she's laid up. Maybe if I come home with a pizza she'll forgive me?"
"Probably. I know the type. She can be easily bought with food."
So we snuck back in, me and my fevered self careful to not be seen by the sweet, protective in-laws. Harry Potter no.4 was popped into the DVD, and I snuggled in to eat my cheese pizza, the only solid food I could even imagine ingesting. By 10pm we were both out cold.
* * * * * * * * * *
The house is so so so so so almost ready! We went with blues and teals and greens, and some of the left over fuchsia from the bedroom was used by moi to paint little accents throughout (ex: random kitchen tiles, thermostat). Our bathroom is KILLER. Absolutely gorgeous, and thinking back to what in the world it was when we first moved in makes it all the more incredible. I didn't even take a photo of the original bathroom, it was too horrendous. Just know that it was tiny and cramped and mold-ridden and dingy, and now...now it is just glorious! Does justice to the two spectacular views from each of the windows. There's still a lot to do, and as soon as I am up and about again I will tackle it all systematically. Cannot believe that what we have now is even what we had a month ago. I am so absolutely blessed, it takes my breath away sometimes.
And I never got to blog about Marion and Kallah's trip! It was wonderful, just as I had imagined it would be. I think they liked it here a lot, and the weather was stunning. We took a long hike saturday, after a home cooked lunch of risotto with sausage and white asparagus. On our hike we were blessed to run into those sweet nuns I wrote about once. They spoke such kind words and were happy to meet some of my family. Saturday night we popped in to Udine, which was bustling and beautiful as always. Late that night we went to an old wine cellar, built in the 1600's that is now used as a concert venue. We saw a singer/songwriter who performed "Georgia". I didn't start to cry till I saw Marion crying. Sunday the weather was perfect, and we rode our vespas through the hills of Collio, into Slovenia. It really is such a stunning place, this little pocket of the world. I am a lucky girl to have ended up here. Dropped them at the airport that evening, and they promised to return. I can't wait.
Ok, going to go make some more tea and try and eat a banana. Maybe have another little sleep. Doctor's orders.
2 comments:
Poor thing! Annabelle (14) read your post this morning. She accused me as always encouraging her and the brothers to stay home when they were sick:"we can watch movies ...." What lovely surrogate parents you have. You actually make the flu interesting and comical. More pictures of the abode!!! Have I missed them? Leaving here to check your fb ........
Pier Paulo's parents are the best and they love you so much. I unfortunately do not share your feelings of guilt when I am sick. I remember mama making us big beds on the floor made out of every quilt we owned and piling up pillows so I could see the TV. Then she would hop in the kitchen cooking up any request we had. If we were feeling nausea she would put a little salt in the bottom of a glass with a little Coke on top and we would sip on it till we felt better. She would sit and do our homework with us. Those were the days. I am so excited about your house. Please take pictures and share. I have been waiting! So happy for you guys!!
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