Title: Curry.
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Blog Entry: Sometimes I hate this country. I had a doctor's appointment at 5pm yesterday -- the doctor gave ME the appointment -- and after waiting an hour, over which time she saw random walk-ins, I had to leave to get to work. I was happy to get out of that waiting room. Photographs of babies everywhere, Anne Geddes posters covering the walls, an offensively loud Shakira ringtone on the office phone, all of this in the office of Verona's supposedly best obgyn. I left livid. The boyfriend was calm and patient with me, although once again I was in tears over this doctor issue. Called my original gynecologist whose appointment I'd missed on Monday. The receptionist told me that an appointment opened up for next Tuesday morning, which is good news. I want to be with the doctor I know and trust, one whose waiting room is cool and pristine, well-lit and welcoming, with relaxing pictures of nature and magazines in both Italian and English .. but a place you'll never spend more than 15 minutes waiting in. I can't wait to ask this woman the million questions I have on my mind. Did the two glasses of wine I drank before I knew I was pregnant harm the baby? Isn't my boyfriend just being silly about thinking the cat is bad for the baby? What in the world should I be eating? And why is CURRY the only thing that is getting rid of my nausea? Until Tuesday. Bisous.
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