Pronto Soccorso (cont'd)

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I handed her the slip of paper with Jay's name on it and the word "Otonoria" checked off and proceeded to explain the situation again, reiterating that we were Americans on vacation. They examined the paper for a minute, then asked Jay to sit down in a dilapidated dentist's chair, next to a table with various medical instruments that looked as if they belonged in a museum strewn about and an uncapped, half-filled syringe lying on its side.

One went to see about rustling us up a doctor, then returned to say he was operating, and would be down "subito" (which translates literally as "immediately," but in Italy rarely implies such haste). I asked how "subito" and got the thrust lower-lip and shrug of shoulders Boh' in response. There were a few moments of silence, which Jay broke with the observation that there were no sharps containers and that used syringes were just tossed in the Hefty-lined trash cans along with the rest of the waste. I pointed out the medical instruments and he sort of edged away from them.

The nurses were nice, and engaged us in conversation. They pointed out that I was too young to have such gray hair, and one came over to paw at it. A third, overweight nurse with curly black hair arrived, She was swathed in green hospital garb and spoke only Sicilian dialect. She commented loudly that there was a word for graying early and said it. One of the other nurses corrected her by repeating the proper Italian version of the word, but she reiterated the Sicilian one before lighting up a cigarette and getting on the phone to yell at someone on the other end for a few minutes. The blond nurse looked at us and shrugged her shoulders and the other one made the Boh' face again.

They hung around as if there was nothing in particular for a nurse to be doing around a hospital but sit and chat. The Boh' nurse asked how young I was, to be having such gray hair, and the blonde immediately answered "he's 25." I said yes, exactly, how did you know? The other nurse exclaimed "25!" then the loud overweight nurse got off the phone stared at me for a moment, and then asked loudly if I was in any movies. I said no, and she said I should go to Hollywood and be in movies. The Boh' nurse said yes, I looked like "that Leonardo di Caprio guy" (she's the fourth Italian woman to see this specious resemblance; two years ago I apparently resembled Hugh Grant, which still quite a long shot but a bit more credible as far as the general shape of my face goes). The blond nurse agreed that yes, I could be in movies. The loud, overweight nurse lit a second cigarette and announced that if I went to Hollywood some director would see me and put me in a movie. They she nodded as if having made some grave pronouncement and pushed through the door, leaving only a cloud of smoke and a large space of silence behind her. Jay said I should study the poster next to me that had all the parts of the inner ear on it, in case he got an ear infection later.

The blonde nurse asked how old Jay was and he replied "Vent'uno." Both nurse threw their arms up in the air and the blonde turned to the Boh' nurse and repeated "Ma vent'uno, solo vent'uno anni!" The other nurse said "Ma e piccolo, solo un piccolo." "What did she say" asked Jay. "She said you were 'piccolo,' a little one." This bothered Jay. "Little!" he exclaimed. "I'm a good foot and half taller than any of these Sicilians!" He still hasn't gotten over it, I think.

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