One time I had to have surgery in Italy, and I am not going to lie; it was one of the most horrifying experiences I have ever experienced. It wasn’t the surgery that scared me, it was the whole experience leading up to it. I don’t care how old you are, being in a foreign country and not knowing anyone while you wait for inpatient surgery will make you want your mommy really bad. Or 90’s TV heartthrob John Stamos. But you want them for different reasons.
The Accident
So, my family isn’t exactly known for their gracefulness. My mom broke her ankle stepping down a stair, my brother fell off a rooftop, and my sister hurt herself walking down a cobblestone road in Germany. Well, about 3 weeks in on my first 6 week trip to Europe, I followed in my sister’s footstep and broke my shoulder walking down a cobblestone road, only I was in Florence, Italy.
That’s it. I wasn’t hit by a car. There wasn’t some Italian mobster gang fight that I ended up in the middle of. I was walking down the street looking up at the architecture at 11 in the afternoon when I tripped, fell on my left shoulder, and hit it in just the wrong way that it broke. So, I went to the hospital, and that’s when they informed me that I would either have to have surgery in Italy or head home and have it in the states. Going home was not an option. I was heading to Rome the next day, so I guess my first visit to Rome would be spent in a hospital.
The Emergency Room
I spent my first two full days in Rome in the emergency room. I think in a span of 48 hours, I was there for probably 24. That being said, I didn’t pay a dime for my doctor’s visits, x-rays, or meds they gave me while I was in the emergency room. I am a huge fan of universal health care, and if I have to wait a bit longer and not have to pay an arm and a leg to be seen, I’m all in.
Once finally seen, the doctor sat down with me. And he didn’t speak any English. I don’t expect anyone in a foreign country to speak English, but I had been pretty spoiled until this point. And honestly, I thought at the hospital they would be more bilingual. After we tried to understand each other through our language barrier, they brought in a new guy. I’ve said it before on here, everyone in Italy is pretty, and in walks my Italian version of a “Grey’s Anatomy” doctor.
As I looked into his dreamy brown eyes he explained the injury to me in his beautiful Italian accent. Apparently, my fracture had shifted slightly and wouldn’t heal on its own. So, that meant I would have to get pins put in my shoulder to hold the fracture in place. So, that was awesome.
This really freaked me out. I never broke anything before and never spent the night at the hospital. And on top of all that, did I mention I was alone. I’m pretty content being single, but I really never wanted a partner more at that moment. I mean I was about to have surgery in Italy alone. I was terrified. He set my date for three days later and I head out.
Surgery In Italy
I walked into the hospital and had no idea where I was going, and no one else seemed to know either. Eventually, I managed to find the right floor, and when the 20th nurse I spoke to couldn’t speak English, I broke down crying like Vada at Thomas J’s funeral. They quickly found my doctor, and he escorted me to my room.
The room was already occupied with my very attractive roomy for the night. I was supposed to have my surgery that evening and be released the following day, but there was an emergency surgery, so I got pushed to the next morning, which was fine since I didn’t have a place to stay the next night anyway.
My doctor came in and took me to get my drugs. I’ve never been put under, but that first ten minutes before you’re knocked out is awesome. Like I thought my right hand was touching my foot when it was actually on my knee. It was trippy. And the last thing I remember saying was, “Hey. I’m wide awake. Don’t perform surgery while I’m awake,” and then I woke up in my hospital room. And want to know the best part of waking up? My friend in NYC is Italian, and he called one of his friends, who never met me, to be there when I woke up. Needless to say, I started crying. One because I wasn’t alone. But two because the drugs hadn’t worn off yet. Mainly because someone was there though. So, it was a happy ending in the end.
After Surgery
When it was all over I woke up to having a giant knob outside my shoulder holding the pins in place. The doctor who removed the pins later said he would have put in a plate and that the surgery I got was dated. But it did the trick, and I have no metal pieces inside me, so no complaints here.
I’m not trying to get political on here, but my sister raised almost $2,000 for me on Go Fund Me. That $2,000 covered my surgery, meds, 5 nights in a hotel to recover, and a plane ride to Paris to stay with my friend for a few nights so he could take care of me. When I returned home and had my pins removed 2 months later, my outpatient surgery came to $15,000. That didn’t include the out of pocket $150 I had to pay every time I met with my doctor before the surgery or my x-rays.
Yes, I should have had insurance. But, it was either eat and pay rent in NYC or have health insurance. I did have health insurance before I left, but it ran out because I quit my job to take this trip. And I definitely learned my lesson and will have travel insurance in the future. But, I think it’s ridiculous that being a U.S. citizen I got taken care of better in a foreign country than in the one I pay taxes in.
I will get off my soapbox. Here is a picture of my x-ray with the giant pins in my arm.
Did you like “One Time I…Had Surgery In Italy”? Check out the time I visited the Leprechaun Museum HERE.
I definitely messed up not having travel insurance. Nomadic Matt has the top six travel insurance sites HERE.
[…] Like this “One Time I…”? Check out last weeks when I got surgery in Italy HERE. […]