"Benissimo..."

... proclaimed the doctor as he held my Xray against the light box.

About an hour earlier I'd had the third set of shoulder Xrays taken to see the progress of healing. It's been exactly a month since the accident, which happened on the last day of July.

Photos taken almost two weeks after the accident

Now, I don't mean to get too personal, so skip the next four or five paragraphs if you don't want to hear about the kinda funny incident regarding undergarments.....

Knowing that I cannot wear a bra when getting Xrays (metal parts intefere), I'd gone to the hospital wearing my oversize T-shirt and brace and no bra. I've had two T-shirts big enough to fit over the lump of my right arm strapped to my body - my wardrobe has been severely limited the past month. Tuesday was the lovely blue T-shirt.....

But figuring that I might be examined by the doctors, I'd put a reggiseno (bra) in my handbag and asked if I could put it on after the Xrays were taken. A half hour later David, Gabriele (to translate) and I were called into the doctor's office for the verdict. As stated above, he declared my bone healing "very well" and motioned for me to hop up on the examination table.

As the doctor and his assistant began pulling my shirt off, I noticed the look on Gabriele's face change. Now I'm quite sure he's seen a bra before, but I don't think he'd bargained for seeing one that morning. As they continued to unwind me from the torture brace (which has to be over 6 feet long), I saw Garbriele turn his back to me - very much a gentleman. But I needed him to participate in the examination because the doctor was telling me all sorts of things in Italian, and I needed to know what they were.

I really saw the humor in this since I'd been in the same sort of situation three years ago when we were last here. We had guests in the apartment, and for some reason the man was a mosquito magnet. He said himself that he had "...the honeyblood" (his wife had no bites). He had so many bites that he was having an allergic reaction and running a fever. He told David and me that he needed to go to the hospital and wanted me to go as the "interpreter". WHAT?!?!?!?

I went, carrying my Italian-English dictionary, and stayed with him during the entire process - including the part when the doctor asked to see the bites on his legs, and he complied by standing up, unzipping his pants and dropping them to the floor. I'm sure I had the same surprised look on my face as Gabriele did.

So I laughed and told Gabriele that it was "....OK - sorry for the shock, but I knew that it would probably be like this and was totally comfortable with it. Just please keep translating...."

By this time the doctor had grabbed my arm and was moving it every which-a-way, and even though I thought "Ow! Ow! Ow!" was in the universal language vocabulary, the doctor apparently didn't know or care. He said I could quit wearing the brace and needed to start moving my arm naturally and using it as much as possible.

Wonderful!!! I was trying to ask him if he would write a prescription for a muscle relaxer because I've been having some very painful spasms at the top of my arm where it joins the shoulder. He was writing something (in Italian and in very sloppy handwriting) on my patient sheet, so I assumed he understood.

Next, I thought I would get a run-through on some rehab exercises or something like that . . . . but no, nothing! I was scooted out of the office with a pleasant "Arrivederci" and the next patient was ushered in. Well - what can you expect for €12.90 ($16.77)?

So we went to the farmacia (pharmacy) and I presented my patient sheet, thinking I would be getting a prescription for something to alleviate these spasms. But no - surprise again! The writing was only the doctor's orders to return in another month for a follow-up exam.

So, the bone has healed well - but the tendons where my arm joins the shoulder are in constant pain. I'm not exactly sure what to do for that, but I am thankful to have a good progress report AND to be free of that hot, bulky, restrictive brace of torture.

And I'm extra thankful to be able to wear my clothes normally again. For a month, I'd had some strange looks every where I went because I looked like a one-armed pregnant lady with my shirt half on and my arm strapped to my belly. At least the pan-handlers in the city left me alone - they took one look at me and must have thought that I had more problems than they did :)