Friday, December 20, 2013

I could tell you...

I could tell you about the crazy jet lag going on here for a week already. Late sleepless nights, trouble mornings, late to school.

I could tell you about the MOUNTAINS of laundry I am constantly doing and cannot catch up since we returned. Clothing too small, too big, needs to be put into labeled bags and into storage for the next kid in the next season... constant shuffling and clothes everywhere. Wait, I shouldn't complain about that! Thank Gd we have clothes all the time for everyone! But yeah, it's a lot of work.

I could tell you that since I am not getting the proper rest, and am so busy, my hip is *killing* me. Oh, and my handicapped parking hasn't been renewed because some post-labotomy clerk at the driving bureau underlined part of a sentence from my doctor, and not the entire sentence: "continued and increased pain; extremely high dose morphine (Fentanyl) daily, no improvement since last scan". This dingbat underlined "improvement since last scan", and stamped a "not sufficient" on my form.
So now we have to re-submit it with our own letter, gently pointing out that their clerk is a brainless wonder. I will also take the opportunity to include the letter I'll get from my orthopedic oncologist this Sunday. Meanwhile, I have to park far away from places, and pay each time I go to the hospital. That is a *lot* of money... I have to be there a lot. Not only for myself, but visiting my friend, and my children have issues we are taking care of as well over there. It get's really expensive really quickly. I've had that handicapped tag for three years. I'm sure they will reinstate it, but until they do.... PITA!

I could tell you about my brain MRI a few days ago (looking for indications of my migraines), in which I *fell asleep* in the white MRI tube with a halo-type of helmet on my head. The loud jack-hammering sounds, alien abduction sounds, car alarm sounds, and something sounding like the early influences from Morse code. Even when an IV with contrast fluids was inserted into my arm in the middle of the test, I barely noticed. I was that tired. No written report yet.
I have had an inordinate amount of MRI's, and never could I imagine falling asleep.

Also you can hear about the appointment in Ichilov hospital in Tel Aviv with the orthopedic oncologist team... that didn't happen. I went to Tel Aviv and had to turn right around. I came late because I messed up looking at the train schedule (yeah, another consequence of walking around like a jet-lagged zombie). I blew in there, and tried to beg my way in to my doctor's appointment. The nurse (which I know and have chatted with many times over these five years) said ^absolutely not^. They (the orthopedic oncology team) have a meeting and they are already late. She said they are seeing the last patient and that-is-that. I pleaded that I came from Be'er Sheva, had to arrange rides and care-taking for my kids, the cabs I took, the fact that I urgently need a progress report of my last MRI, that it has been two months already.

"Sorry, sweetie. I cannot give them even one more patient. Do you want a 5-minute, rushed appointment where they are preoccupied about getting to their meeting?"

I left. But, in Ichilov hospital is a Steimatsky book shop. I **love** book shops. I went in and bought a Frank Sinatra disk. Got back on a southbound train to Be'er Sheva, read on my Kindle a great book (love that! Thanks, Robert!), and made my way home. All day wasted. Exhausted with nothing to show for it. My new appointment is this Sunday, so at least I don't have to wait long.

I could also tell you smiley news like today, when me and Shifra (11 years old) went to get our ears pierced. Her for the first time, and me... well, this makes five (but today was the last two- not all 5 at once). Three in one ear, two in the other.

please pay no attention to the errant grey hairs around...
Same goes for here. They soon will magically disappear.

I'm such a rebel. Me and Shif, though, we're jammin. She got little blue flowers (the picture I took doesn't show them at all. I'll work on getting a new one), and I got little faux diamond studs. We are so happy about them!

Another smiley thing is that Robert and I went out this evening for our anniversary dinner... 16 years... L'chayim!

Also when our bread was delivered, the waitress had cut it into a heart for us. So sweet.

heart shaped bread; a bit of a dark picture, but you get the whole candle-lit atmosphere in this one.
Sushi, yummy home-made breads, Robert had meat and I had a lovely hummus plate, and- oh, yeah- at the sushi bar was a snowman made of sushi rice. See?

cute, right?
OK, so not really connected to anything I wrote about, here is another few (tad blurry) pictures from today. Random but wholly (holy, indeed) meaningful hugs from my little man. :)

Well, I got carried away with all the stuff I *could* tell you. I wound up just out and tellin' ya stuff.

Why did I format it that way at the beginning, you ask?

Because knowing that my friend- the one from the surgery last month- is going through chemo treatments now, makes it all seem so trivial. I could tell you about all my ongoing difficult but not life-threatening issues (which keep having new aspects to handle), but it's hard when my friend has cancer. But I managed to do it anyway. With pictures thrown in, to boot.

And I think that is OK.
That's how life is. God puts meaning into *everything*.
Big and small.
There is a saying that says every soul is a world in itself 
(well, the saying refers to a Jewish soul, but I don't want to make anyone feel bad!)

Taking that one step further, when my kids hug me, 
I got the whole world in my hands!!!!!!!! 


  1. Beautifully written post. You sucha great writer Sarah Beth.

  2. I am sorry things are a little hard right now, and not going so smoothly, but I really want to add, you look terriffic and beautiful in the pics! you have a lovely family b;h!!. refua shlaima ! shavua tov, rochel.

  3. Sarah, your comment on Shabbat about being encouraged to write when we were young by teachers who praised us hit home. Its what gives us the courage to write as you do. So many blessings unfold in your blog. My heart goes out to S. And to you.

    Love, Miriam

  4. Keep looking at the bright side.