Tuesday, November 13, 2012

When it Rains
On the literal side of the equation, it rained so hard here on Saturday night that when I splashed out to the train station on Sunday morning to go visit Giusy with Serena at her new apartment in Firenze, I had to stop myself for a double take of the walls of Lucca. Was that a duck? Yup, the walls of Lucca were temporarily surrounded by a moat and the little duck stream had turned into a full fledged lake. I had a nice time with the girls and planned out where to take T in Florence the next day after her appointment at the hospital to have her sensor put in. In theory this would get us a normal night back. F has been sleeping on the couch and I can't sleep without him and he has to get up twice a night to check T's blood sugars. The good thing about F is he can go back to sleep in two seconds, it takes me two hours and sometimes more.

We were greeted by the tech guy Antonio who is as of last week the proud father of a new 8.8 pound tordello/dumpling, as he called her -- his second child, I believe. He was just wasting time for the first bit until we found out whether the head doctor was going to give her permission to let us have the sensor. She allegedly said yes, but we never saw her. I think she phoned it in. Instead a doctor we don't usually see was there. Antonio played a little quick film for us about how to install the sensor on his tablet. The sensor itself looks like a little space egg, and the thing that drives the tiny needle into T's belly to install it looks like a little rocketship. I got so rattled that after awhile all conversation was directed at T who's Italian holds up better under pressure. We were all very cheerful. Sleep! Finally, sleep!

That was we were cheerful while we did some pre- birthday fashion appreciation T style in Firenze and when to Pizza Man, a notoriously tender crust pizza, for lunch.

Then in the car on the way back the alarm on the sensor rang. It didn't ring so much as it meeped. It was as if you kicked a bunny in the ribs. Not that you would do that, but still . . . I was starting to feel sort of a low level bunny kicking rage in my guts. This little mini sound was supposed to let us know if T faces a life threatening emergency in the night so we don't have to get up? Even if she slept in bed with us, I wouldn't hear it. I called Antonio from the car. He played me his alarm which was decently louder that ours because we are still stuck with the used insulin pump that other kids have probably dropped a decent amount until our new one comes in. Nevertheless, it is not a sound you can hear from T's bedroom upstairs down to ours. He suggested we get a baby monitor. I suggested he was a fking nitwit that didn't even know enough to test the device before giving it to a family. But since I did it in Italian, it came out more polite than if I had done it in English. Then I let out a sound that was more along the decibel level that I had hoped the sensor alarm would be and F pulled the car over. This set T off and then we had two alarms going and a rather injured bunny sound. F just sighed.

I am beyond words.

Vivi goes back to America on Wednesday so we are having dinner with them tomorrow.

T taught Vivi how to say ciao and also shopping. Education at its finest.

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