It starts like every other day - waking up a little too late, rushing to school, taking and surely failing a test, writing letters in Spanish class to my American roommates, bolting out of class during the break. In Italian schools, the "pause" is in the middle of the day for ten minutes where most students go to the garden (except it's not garden-pretty at all) to smoke, chat, etc. Before I could explain, I "took one look around and...fainted! Kerplop!" (Shout out to my daycare babies who must stop growing up without me). To make this better, in that day we were too lazy to walk all the way to the garden and instead remained on the metal exit stairs of school during the break. Saying that I feel like I ran into a brick wall is basically accurate since I face-planted on metal.
I swear my head felt like something out of Harry Potter (specifically - Apparition) so waking up with these crazy Italians panicing around me and my hands covered in blood was a little freaky. Just my luck that I 100% forgot how to speak Italian in those minutes, right? Fortunately I have some really great friends who study really hard in English class :)
I spent the next 30 hours of my life wasting away in a hospital bed counting the minutes until my freedom. Nothing can make you feel like you're 8 months old again like eating on someone else's schedule, playing with your feet and staring at a ceiling all day. However, I had some cool doctors and a really great nurse who taught me new Italian vocabulary (like fainted, metal, sugar, fallen, hurt, exams, blood, neurology, etc.) and stitched me up just right.
The worst part of it all was probably when a doctor handed me a telephone saying, "It's time to call your parents" and my reply was, "But my mom is right outside!" This AFS host/natural family stuff really messes with people's heads... mine included. Carla calls Karen "Super Mom" (because of the millions of mini-humans running around 1055) and luckily they were both on their A-Game that day. When I called to mention that I was kind of, sort of at the hospital her reaction was, "Oh cool, what'dya do?" Karen is brilliant. And yes, I can hear you from here shouting "My name is Mother!"
My diet for the next few weeks will be mostly protein drinks, baby food and gelato thanks to the doctors' recommendation (because I have a small fracture in my jaw near my ear). I can't eat with a spoon. I drink from a straw. I can't do that Italian kiss greeting thing. I can't really smile too wide and it hurts to laugh. Federico thinks my swollen lips make me look like a Bratz doll. My life is essentially becoming a joke. But hey - I'm still breathing, I'm really well rested now, and I'm being treated like the princess that I am. And I'm still living in Italy. So life's not so bad, I just got a little banged up. And the best part of it all? I never felt alone for a second. My host family, AFS family and friends that now feel like family have been showering me with the love and kisses and care I couldn't find anywhere else but with my people in the States. This really is my home away from home!
And now I'm famous at school not as
"That American Girl," but instead as "That Girl
Who Passed Out."
