Recieving Sarah back home, receiving the Torah, and spreading my wings, but I won't be far.

We are just coming off a wonderful holiday of Shavuot. It's the holiday when we celebrate receiving the Torah on mount Sinai from Moses. I went to a class about it a few days beforehand, and learned that a person who hears the ten commandments chanted from the Torah on Shavuot, it's like they are at Mount Sinai.

I rushed to shul to get there in time. When I heard the ten commandments, with everyone standing, and the Torah reader chanting strongly and slowly, evenly, I got chills all over. It was just awesome. Hopefully I got the kids into it, too; Shifra was on one side of me, and Azriel on the other. I kept pointing out the amazing stuff in the Torah reading, and drew them in with me.

They had already been drawn in, though, with Robert teaching them until the wee hours in the night about the book of Ruth. Robert said they learned and were interested the whole time. I am so proud of all of them! The older kids stayed up and learned Torah way into the night, with Dov staying up all night. There is a tradition to do that, because we are readying ourselves to receive the Torah, and sleeping puts us in a different state of mind.

Anyway, it was a great chag (holiday), Baruch Hashem.

I also will mention that it was Shavuot, six years ago, that I was returned home, fixed, but yet broken at the same time, from the hospital after surviving NF a month beforehand. The private ambulance brought me home on exactly the day which Shavuot was to begin that evening. It was the end of the Omer period, and the receiving of the Torah. I received my own personal Torah teachings, over the years after, slowly. I was in the hospital almost the entire Omer period. Such vivid memories. I found some pictures from that day from the Caring Bridge website:

coming home, smiling, after it all.

My little red head Shifra running out to meet me. She is still like this, but now she is 10.

My parents, who were with me during the entire ordeal, holding Azriel, who is holding onto blue doggie, and me trying to connect to him. He was 1 1/2.

put into my own bed, where it all started, gurney back in ambulance... I remember that so well. Relief and raw fear mixed together.

After being drawn back to that intense time, it is hard to switch subjects, for me, anyway. So many feelings wash over me as I see that original journal, and the pictures, and reading a bit. I am going to have to read it lots more in the coming weeks and months; my book wants it's words.

Here I have to say that I will be sort of signing off for a while. I have some important writing projects to do, and I need to spend my writing energies on them. One of the projects is time sensitive, and the sooner the better. And yes, these projects are all stemming from being an NF survivor. One of the projects is, of course, the book I am writing.

I really need and love writing the blog, so if I have that need, I will take the time to update when I need to blog. I probably will blog in the latter half of next week, reporting on my appointment with my hip orthopedist. That will be the appointment when I learn the results of the MRA (that awful test I went through about three weeks ago), and discuss the issues regarding surgery on my right hip because of impingement (or PVNS, if that is what has been found. Let's pray that isn't the case.)

Another reason I won't be "around" so much is that traveling is in the air. :)
Tomorrow Robert & I leave for three days and two nights in a little sweet bed & breakfast near the lake Kinneret (sea of Galilee). We got a deal for this trip, and the deal ends soon, so we took this weekend to go. The kids stay at home, being cared for and loved by Robert's cousin Howard. We are so looking forward!

Next week we are going to be up north again- this time with everyone. There will be one day in Rosh Pina, and from Wednesday night until Saturday night we'll be in Modi'in, celebrating my nephew's BarMitzvah with Robert's brother's family.

All good things, thank Gd. I will take resting time when I need.

I don't *want* to put the blog aside, but I have some immediate priorities to fulfill. Also, after the most pressing writing, I want very much to get my book worked on. It has to replace blogging. But as I said, I will update when I am just bursting and miss you guys!

So, bye for now!
So looking forward to our getaway! We leave tomorrow (Thursday). We may even turn off cell phones. Temporarily, of course. :)

I'll be back.... you can count on it.
Please write to me whenever you want. I thrive on human contact.

If anyone wants to be a guest writer here, I am open to that. All I ask is that the content be in the spirit of the blog. Please let me know if you are interested in publishing here, and I will give you the keys to the sacred door.

two hips and a hand

It is just getting too hard for me to type, or just about do anything involving my right hand. It is **soooo** frustrating, you cannot imagine. It seems that Hashem has big plans for me. So big that I have to learn what life is like being challenged with my legs, and now my dominant hand. What is it about my limbs that I am not 'getting' here?

At least, Baruch Hashem, this new cast does not cause me any rash.

We took some pictures for posterity of the splint, custom made by this special woman, an occupational therapist at Soroka. I will go see her again on Monday to check on it and start gentle therapy. Again, I feel so fortunate to have jumped the waiting list.

These are the pictures of it... and after this post, I will put it back on, and go to sleep.

 

I am under strict orders not to take it off; only for showering. I *must* completely rest this hand or else it will never heal (it's already been what... three months since the first fall?). What it most needs is rest. REALLY hard... it is a real art to do anything without using your thumb.(driving, laundry- new machine!, cooking, to name a few of the biggies. How... just HOW?)

I told Robert that I feel I am in the world of the useless, while he is working so incredibly hard, all day, round the clock. It is the end of the school year... lots of bagrut exams (high school exit exams) from his English students to grade, and still working on taxes, and other stuff. I'll write about the other stuff in another update, when that stuff is finalized. That last one is *good* stuff, but hard to organize, and he has been doing it all.

But I do feel we are in two totally different worlds.
And I do feel frustrated with my wrist problem, and yeah, useless.

OK, going to sleep. Gotta get that thing back on my hand, I feel soreness creeping in....

A rash of divine intervention

Man what a day. It was day two, of rash two on my hand. I went to my doctor to show her, and to talk about what is going on, and how am I going to heal my poor sprained wrist if I can't splint and immobilize it. She was also not sure if the "shingles" was actually shingles. If it was shingles, it wouldn't come back.

Either way, it became clear to both of us that the priority was to heal my sprain.
My doctor sent me to the occupational therapy unit at Soroka, where I have a lot of history, when I got my scar therapy (silicone + pressure garment) for Gapey six years ago. Occupational therapy has many different aspects to it, and one is treatment of injuries using devices, usually custom made for the patient.

I faxed the referral to the hospital. Then I decided I wanted a yummy ice coffee from the cafe at the hospital. I got a great parking spot (important!) and the ice coffee, then went to the second floor of the "old section", where the occupational therapy unit is... right next to the ICU, where I once was a patient.

I told the secretary about the fax, and that I came in person specifically because of the unique problem that I cannot splint my sprained hand, and needed help. The secretary told me there is a TWO MONTH waiting list for people like me, whose limbs are not mangled or freshly operated on. I told her that at this rate, if I wait two months (It's already *been* two months since my last fall!), I will be one of the ones who need surgery.

Just then... one of the main therapists came out to look at her appointment book.
She had a cancellation which she hadn't known about.
She looked at me and asked what I needed there. The secretary explained to her briefly what I needed, showed her my referral, and told her about the expected two month wait. Then I took over, telling her about the rash problems I've had. I showed her the pictures on my phone camera I took last week when the rash was really bad, and how my arm looked now, after having tried to splint it again.

She said that I should quickly call my health clinic- it closed in five minutes- and have them fax over a payment approval for a custom made splint with special materials. (!)
I got through to my clinic right before closing time, and they faxed over the payment approval. It worked smoothly!! It's amazing when the free-health care system runs smoothly.

The OT I was speaking to then had me come into the casting room. She took measurements of my hand, cut pieces of special anti-allergenic plastic, then put it into a big square basin of hot water to make it flexible. At that time, while she and I were talking, another OT came over to me and said "oh! I totally remember you! You were the one who had a very grave illness, and then I started your treatment for your pressure garment and silicone!"
Her face wasn't familiar to me. She told me that she went on maternity leave shortly after we started scar therapy, and I was in pretty bad way, so she said she isn't surprised I wouldn't remember her. I do remember the one who came after her, though. I worked with her the most.

That OT even remembered that I played french horn and am a doula!! She said I was very unique to her, she remembers me very clearly. She was so happy to see me doing well (except for the hand, which is unrelated to the NF). It was a very healing sort of experience for me. Whenever I run into a doctor or therapist who was helpful to me at that time, and that person remembers me well, it is very healing for me. Confirming.

Then the OT who was making my custom splint got interested in the story, and I told more of it. I also told her, as I will tell you, that it is TOMORROW (Wednesday) when I went through my five hour skin graft surgery. This day is a day in modern Jewish history called "Yom Yerushalayim", (Jerusalem day). That is how I always know it was my pivotal graft surgery, having been on a holiday. The OT's were both listening with such caring eyes that I, myself almost cried there, while the warm plastic was cooling off, molding to the shape of my hand.

I remember the morning of the graft surgery.

The nurse came in to tell me I needed to go to the operating rooms. She came in with a sedative for me to take to calm my nerves. I told her I wanted to pray the morning service first, and I needed about 15 minutes. She looked displeased, but agreed.

I started the prayers lying in bed with my prayer book.
When the most important parts of the service came around, one normally stands and continues praying standing, honoring the Creator.

Although for extenuating circumstances (I'd call mine extenuating!), one is completely permitted to stay seated, I decided at that moment I *needed* to stand. I gathered all my strength, turned over to lie on my side, hung my legs over the side of the bed, and slowly got up while all the time holding my belly so all the packing of the gaping hole (aka Gapey) would not shift. No easy feat. But I wanted to make sure my prayers were heard, and that I am willing to do anything to survive this surgery, and on the incredible day of Yom Yerushalayim.
I stood, one hand holding the prayer book, one holding my belly together, leaning on the bed railing.

At the end, I pressed the nurse call button. I was ready. With tears in my eyes, being wheeled down the corridor, and into the elevator to the operating rooms, with Robert by my side (he had just that minute finished taking all the kids to their various schools), my sedative started to take effect. Next thing I knew, I was waking up after surgery; my right leg, where the donor skin was taken, burned like a torch. Robert was right by my side. I was alive, not in ICU, and the surgery was a success.

Speaking of ICU, back to my stupid (but serious, it seems) wrist problem...

I walked out of the OT clinic with my new casted splint, wrist and thumb immobilized (what a relief!) with hard plastic and velcro, into the corridor, directly facing the ICU.
I peeked into the window of the door. You can't see sick people through that window, but I knew. I knew.

Hashem got me through NF, skin graft surgery, and so much more thereafter. It seems on a much lesser scale to talk about being able to jump the long waiting list for OT assistance, and a custom made cast the same day, but it's all a gift. All of it. Even when it doesn't seem so miraculous.
When something feels, in your soul, that it happened only because God must have intervened, you can know that He did. He does it all the time.

The rash is back... so maybe it wasn't shingles?? I'm so confused!

The shingles virus and gross things all over my hand seems to have cleared up, Glory be.
So, what is left to take care of (in this arena)? My sprained hand. The joint is still painful, and writing is extremely painful. Thankfully, typing isn't too bad. :) My doctor just submitted the paperwork for occupational therapy to take care of my wrist.

In trying to take care of my sprain, I put the splint back on my wrist. It sorely needed it, because when it bends freely, it is painful. Last night I put the splint on again (it hurts at night). This morning, HUGE puffy red swollen rash... again. I am now less convinced that the last bout of that awful rash was shingles (although just yesterday, another doctor who saw the pictures I have also said it looks exactly like shingles.). I am thinking that maybe I *am* allergic to latex now?

That would be very bad for someone like me who has numerous doctors appointments where latex gloves are required, never mind talking about all the surgeries. How do you know if indeed it is an allergy (sure seems like it is), and if it is, to what, exactly?

Even at this moment, 7 hours after I took off the splint this morning, the rash looks like it is getting worse and is swollen and angry red.

Back to the doctor.
This is exactly what I need, right?

On being lucky, and my day with Dov.

These past few weeks, or month, actually, has been so hard! I am not sure if it is because my wrist is so messed up and sore, or because there is way too much pressure around here with Robert trying desperately to get in the taxes before doom strikes, or because my beloved washing machine died, or because the house isn't how I want it to be and that is not in my control, or raising kids is sooooo hard. Yeah, that about sizes it up.

Actually, while I write about kids, I actually do have a brag about Dov. I took him to Jerusalem yesterday for interviews to get accepted into one of the best high school yeshivas in the country. I drove, after having had a particularly difficult night with lots of sadness and tears (tough times with the "state of the union").

No matter what goes on personally, though, I am his mom, and my children have to rely on me. Robert had to work, and Dov certainly cannot do something like that on his own. So, with a puffy face from not having had enough [peaceful] sleep, and getting medicine into my body 12 hours late so I was starting withdrawal symptoms, I drove us to Jerusalem. I was OK, and I knew I'd make it.

Dov was *awesome*. One interview I sat in with him, and the other two he was on his own with the various big-wigs. He did well. He told me he saw one interviewer write on her paper "very serious student, wants very much to study here". That was good. Another interviewer, a top student from the school, was to test his skills. He gave him mathematical equations, and waited to see how Dov worked them out, with no calculator or anything. Amazingly enough, with God on his side, one of the hardest math problems this student threw at him, Dov had seen and worked out before!! He wowed the interviewer by solving it so efficiently. It's good that he got off that way, but it means that if he gets accepted, he'll have some darn hard computing to do in that head of his!

This school is special in that they have the option of a regular high school 4-year program, or a 5-year program. At the end of the five years, the high school student graduates with a *bachelor of science*. Yup, a college degree. Gotta work your petudies off, but then there are so many more opportunities open to that student. Well, we'll see how it goes.

There was a questionnaire that each kid had to fill out. These questions were very intense, mature questions (remember- these kids are 14 years old... some younger.) Where do you see yourself in 10 years? What makes you the most upset? What decision are you most proud of in your life, what do you most regret, who do you look up to and why, what was the happiest day of your life (to which he wrote "the day my mother woke up from a coma"), if you could do anything you wanted, what would it be? That one he answered by saying he'd want to fix the world and have no more war. That brought us to a lengthy discussion about world economics, and specifically, after I told him what "genocide" means, and about Africa (Rwanda), he started to try to form a plan for how to save Africa. We talked about occupying other populations, and of course, from there we went to talking about the meaning of occupying people... here, at home. He is an amazing child who's wheels are in constant motion. He is optimistic that the world will be better.

I will leave that last statement with no comments to follow it.

We met my friend, who is here on a trip from the US, for dinner in Jerusalem. Then we made our way back, talking the whole time. I *loved* it. Spending time with one child, any one of mine, is so amazing. There is nothing like one-on-one time with your kids.

When we got back home, everyone was still up.
I got them to sleep. The babysitter wasn't the center of the house any more, you know?
First, I climbed into Ya'akov's bed to chat about his day, then into Azriel's bed for his cuddles, then into Shifra's bed to chat and snuggle, then, to sit on the side of Dov's bed, still singing to him the song we have sung to them since they were born. Not too much time left for me to sing that to him. He'll be off to summer camp in July for three weeks (with Ya'akov as well), then we go to the US, then my Dovie spreads his wings to a dorming school. He'll be home most weekends, though, in the beginning. Even so, I cherish singing to him on the edge of his bed.

That is the only time he lets me kiss him,
and he kisses me back.

Getting myself to sleep last night was another story. That didn't happen until almost four AM. Yup. Too much, just too much tension for one day. I needed one, and then a half more, sleeping pills till I was knocked out. I set my alarm for 10am this morning, though, and got up and got things accomplished.

Oh wait! about Dov & me kissing him -- I kiss him every Shabbat night with his blessing, and he kisses me back as well. I'm so lucky!

I guess life isn't so hard all the time.
(but I do really wish my wrist was healed! Oh, and that my new washing machine was delivered already! But, we manage to move on. Gotta keep moving.)