In the continuing struggle that is my pre-natal care, I had an appointment with the midwife this morning. Today’s goal, blood tests. Testing what? Who knows. But this much is clear: our appointment was for 9am. The Birth Center is across town, approximately a 45-minute trip. So Paul and I got up early and hustled down there. Factoring in Italian Time we figured on a 15-minute delay before we’d see the pros in action. Oh how we underestimated. Thirty-five minutes later, the junior midwife arrived. After a brief apology, my blood was drawn and the bill payed. The entire process took approximately seven minutes.
Unfortunately, the second goal of the meeting was to discuss their payment process with the senior midwife who arrived at 9:40, after the receptionist called to remind her. Fantastic. Poor Paul headed into her office to talk turkey, for ten minutes. Next we were off to meet a man about a car so the chart making, insurance reimbursement and penny counting was brought to an abrupt end.
I’d arranged for us to see (and hopefully drive) a Mercedes A180 for sale through the Yahoo! online group for ex-pats; the owner does not speak English but a lovely friend of his (who also offered her services to us as a future babysitter) had agreed to be there as interpreter.
Ten minutes of waddling got us to FAO, unfortunately we were ten minutes late. First we searched the parking lot. No sign of them. As the minutes ticked by, we became later and later. Beginning to worry, we wondered if our tardiness caused the problem or was this the second meeting that would run more than half an hour late today? Changing location, we were finally approached out front by a man in a helmet and a petite brunette. Apparently they were just about to leave (the only two Italians not on Italian Time?) when they “saw the belly” and came over…to tell us the bad news. Due to something about a co-worker’s issue with opening up the bank where he works, the man was unable to drive the car into the city today. Instead he rode his scooter, which is not a gold Mercedes, nor for sale. They’d come in person to apologize–and to mention that they know a friend of a friend.
Our second brief apology inside of an hour and social connection made, here’s how we left it: Paul will meet them again tonight while I’m at bible study.
Hoping the day improves with time.