The Doctor Visit

"Good morning Doctor"

"Good morning. Please have a seat. Tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Well, not so good. Actually I'm feeling a little off."

"Oh? What are your complaints? What is bothering you specifically?"

"Sometimes my heart hearts. Especially at night when I'm in bed."

"What kind of pain? Is it a stabbing pain? A muscle type of pain?"

"I would say an ache. It aches."

"For how long do these aches last during a given episode? Does it worsen if you get up, or if you do a lot of physical activity?"

"They come and go. Usually only when I am laying down before bed or sitting down and thinking, No connection to physical activity."

"I see, what else has been bothering you? Do you have a fever? Nausea? Diarrhea?"

"No, no fever last I checked and my stomach is fine. I've lost my appetite though. I just find it hard to concentrate on the food and my stomach feels like it's churning. But not exactly in an unpleasant way."

"Okay... does this happen when you are interacting with any specific people? Perhaps in stressful situations."

"It really only happens when I talk to one person."

"I see. Have you had any headaches? Been experiencing any dizziness or lightheadedness?"

"Now that you mention it, I haven't exactly felt lightheaded but I've been finding it very hard to focus and my friends and family keep telling me that I'm zoning out and I've gone to space. They often say I have a goofy grin while I'm doing this. Doctor, do you think something is wrong with my face?"

"Hmm, let's do the physical exam. Here, let me listen to your lungs. Breath with your mouth open please. Okay, and now let me hear your heart. Okay very good, stand up please, take a few steps. Okay very nice. Now follow my finder only with your eyes without moving your head. And now take your pointer finger and bring it to your nose, while your eyes are closed. And now the other side. Lay back done and let me feel your stomach and tell me if you feel any pain. Okay let me just feel your legs and jaw. Okay, we're all done here. Let me make sure I have all your symptoms down before I go type it in my computer: you've been feeling off, experiencing a loss of appetite but without pain or diarrhea and find yourself 'zoning' out a lot and sometimes smiling while doing this. People say you seem far away and you're having a hard time concentrating. You feel 'churning' in your stomach but haven't throw up at all. Have I got it all?"

"Just about. I also have been having a hard time sleeping. I can't seem to nod off and I find myself sighing a lot. Sometimes just in the middle of the day."

"Okay, let me summarize in your file for a moment and then I'll tell you what I think is going on."

On the computer screen the doctor writes;

Subjective: 23 year old male. Usually healthy with no noteworthy medical background. Complains of malaise, trouble sleeping, trouble concentrating, occasional chest 'aches' at a time of rest and 'churning' stomach (i.e. he has butterflies). No signs of infection or inflammation and clean diagnostics. 

Objective: 
Lungs: Completely clean with good air flow from both sides.
Heart: Regular rhythm and clean systolic pressure.
Stomach: Empty and without any sensitivity. No noticeable blockages.
Basic neurological check completely clean. 
Legs: No edema on either side.

Assessment: No need to seek further consultions from any specialist. Patient should be given a reality check and asked who the girl is. There is no indication for blood tests or images to be ordered. Patient is love sick.

Plan: Explain to patient that he is completely healthy and ask what her name is. 

"Alright listen up. Your physical exam is totally clean and you are healthy. Nothing is wrong with you and although your are indeed suffering from symptoms. It is a bug that people catch, especially in your age range. You have this bug and it may pass or it may persist. The fate is in your hands."

"Doctor? I don't understand what you're saying. I have a bug? Like a stomach bug??"

"Yes. You have the love bug."

"...."

"Son, you're love sick. What's her name?"

"I...uhhh, Her name is Noa."

"Well? Are you gonna tell her or what? If you don't do anything one of two things can happen. Either the symptoms will go away and everything will pass with only minimal scarring, or it will persist for a long time after and you'll start to feel feelings of regret and have even more trouble sleeping."

"Doctor, isn't there anything you can do? Anything I can take? What do I do."

"Go ask her out, That's the best treatment. Good luck."

The End

I remain yours,
Shira

A Day of Culture Shocks, oh What Fun!

Hello Readers!

Last week was an interesting and busy week! I had one day in particular where the whole day I experienced such hilarious and continuous culture shock that I felt the need to share it on the blog with you so you could all have a good laugh:

Incident #1:

The day started out normal, I was a little fatigued in the morning but continued on with my day. In the morning I was sitting in the doctors room as I often do, and the doctors were getting ready for their day, casually filling each other in on patients and discussing everyone's situation. It wasn't exactly a meeting, but the room was full. All of a sudden one of the residents starts rummaging through his locker and then in front of everyone, without warning, whips off his t-shirt and puts on his scrub shirt. I was very taken aback and had to quickly turn away from his exposed torso. No one seemed to notice but me, and he didn't look abashed in the slightest. Trying to keep my composure I asked my Israeli friends and coworkers if this was acceptable behavior in this country, and although they said not everyone would do it, they were't surprised that some would. More than their words I watched their faces and every time the shock I was waiting for didn't come. 

Incident #2: Later in the day one of the doctors started distributing a cake he had brought to work in celebration of the fact that his son who had been ill was released from the hospital (this in and of itself is different culturally as in Israel it is always expected that the person celebrating something will bring cake or food to give out, and not other people bring for him. This is counter-intuitive to me as I am accustomed to bringing the birthday boy a cake, or bringing food to the woman who just came back from maternity leave!) He began cutting huge pieces and gave me the honor of the first piece. All at once, everyone began telling him to stop serving enormous pieces. One doctor said "I'll just share with Shira" to which I happily agreed. I of course, expected her to bring another plate and fork, and take half my cake on to her plate. This was not to be! She plopped herself right beside me, grabbed a fork and dug in right with me, on my plate. As if we were sisters or bosom buddies from childhood. Of course we are neither, she is a senior doctor in my department who I've known all of three weeks. This is how it is here, everyone really does feel like family. I worked hard to hide my incredulity, and we shared our cake in 'piece'. I ate the cherry on top. :)

Incident #3: I went to an event in the afternoon at the Association for American and Canadians in Israel (AACI) and on my long bus ride there from the hospital I saw an old man on the bus pull a bag of some sort of unhealthy snack (chips or pretzels or something of the sort) and start to munch contentedly as he stared out the window. I found myself grinning at the entire situation. The picture I was seeing before me of a) an old man eating a children's snack, and b) him eating on the bus! My childhood is flooded with memories of either being told off for bringing a drink(with a lid!) on the bus or seeing the huge signs plastered on the windows of the bus with large red X's through pictures of food and drink. I smiled to myself and relished in the relaxed attitude of Israelis towards eating on the bus.

I hope you enjoyed these little episodes of culture shock, and laughed like I did. The journey to understanding different peoples and cultures may be long, but it is definitely worth it. 

היה לי יום מאוד מצחיק וזה כיף לי מאוד שאני יכולה לצחוק ולא לבכות בימים האלה. אני מרגישה שהתקדמתי בנתיב האישי של חיים ואני עוד צעד יותר קרוב. 

Translation: I had a very funny day and it's so great for me that I was able to laugh about it and not cry on these days. I feel that I have advanced on my personal path of my life and I'm one step closer.

I remain yours etc,

Shira 

Hybrid Funnies :)

Hello Readers,

This last week I returned to Jerusalem on Saturday night with my mother (she took the bus with me!) The experience was a very classic one: running like a maniac to arrive breathless and panting a second before the bus pulls out, prolonged traffic because of  car accidents made by Israelis who haven't yet mastered the skill of winter driving, and then watching our transfer bus in Jerusalem pull away in front of our very eyes by seconds. When we caught the next bus to our event (a birthday party of a dear friend) we managed to get seats just past the back door, and then watched in fascination as the bus became more and more loaded until passengers were standing just about on top of each other. As we progressed along the route, people started disembarking and we returned to a more acceptable amount of passengers again. When my mother and I alighted, I made sure as I usually do to thank the driver, raising my voice a notch so he could hear from the back door of the bus. As we started walking towards our party I pridefully inquired of my mother if she noticed how polite I was, thanking the driver. "Aren't you proud? You raised me to be so polite and American!" I boasted. My mother's response was akin to "well yes, although I don't know if I would have 'shouted' "thank you" all the way from the back. I mean, you had to shout for him to hear." I reflected for a moment and realized Mum was truly on to something. I had shouted a nicety. I was doing the polite thing, but in a somewhat less polite manner. I began to laugh, and so did my mom. "Mom, this is exactly what it means to be a hybrid! I would think to do the courteous thing, but loudly since I'm half Israeli! Yelling "Thanks!" seemed quite natural and expected for me. My mother informed me that the proper way to handle the situation is to alight from the front door of the bus and wish the driver a "good day and thank you", in a normal tone.

Being a hybrid is a balancing act of trying to take the good aspects of both cultures while simultaneously being mindful to not glean the bad from either culture. My aim is to be bubbly and mannerly, not surly and rude. I want to share a funny meme I saw and the response my friend who is a fellow hybrid had:

This whole scenario is perfectly humorous and when I messaged my friend asking what he would do in the above situation (because he is a hybrid) he responded immediately with something like: "I'd be sitting, while talking on my phone, of course." This is us. We are the hybrids and we do our best to do both our nationalities proud. The bar is set high for us as we try to bridge the gap (or perhaps with these two cultures "chasm" is more appropriate) between two very different nations. As more and more of us "mutts" interact with each culture we are hopefully able to show that the other side is not quite so bad, and people can accept this from us because it comes in a form of communication they are accustomed to. I can loudly tell Israelis about the nice Americans I know, and I can also quietly share with Americans some of the crazy things Israelis do for fun. Hopefully at the end of the day, we all feel just a little less hostile towards one another.

I remain yours etc,

Shira

P.S. Sorry there is no Hebrew in this post. I really need to get Hebrew stickers for my laptop...

New Beginnings

Hello Readers,

A lot has been happening! One week ago I moved to Jerusalem and so far all is well. Leaving Meir was both harder and easier than I had anticipated. I only cried once, at the way end. My dearest sister was with me most of the day, and her presence soothed my soul. I wouldn't have made it without her. Pangs of guilt still plague me as I think of how her sweet self moved to Kfar Saba to be with me, and after only a few short months I've abandoned her. For her part, she is taking it well and seems to be content just to throw herself into work, and she has gotten yet another job. Best of luck to the best person in the world. <3

The night before the big move, we stayed up until the wee hours of the night making a phlebotomist cake (veins, needles, test tubes--the whole thing!) and she helped me carry it to the hospital. My last day was satisfactory because for the most part it felt like every other day, and I treasured that sense of normalcy. Despite being mostly a typical day, there was still an air of festivity for me. I came in wearing makeup and as usual, this excited everyone. We shared my cake in the morning and I gave a short speech (since it was in Hebrew). I gave them my gift of a huge picture frame with photographs of me and my doctors and they gave me a set of very cozy pajamas for Jerusalem which have turned out to be one of the most thoughtful and practical gifts I've ever received.  One doctor even told me that I was the best decision that the professor had made since she joined the department, which warmed my heart. She also insisted I give my new boss her number so she could explain to them exactly what they were getting into...

 And just like that, with a final wave, I was gone

Wednesday night I was going to bus to my new apartment. I got a text from one of my new roommates warning me that there was no mattress or space in the cupboard for my stuff. Not willing to leave it up to chance as I perhaps once would have, I persistently called my new coordinators until I finally reached one of them, who upon hearing my concern about where I would be physically laying my head that night, suggested I move to a different apartment one flight up and in to a spot that had just been vacated. I would be in a room with one other girl, and not to be alarmed, but Hebrew wasn't her strong point. As it happily turned out, she is an Anglo. 

As for the hospital, I have gotten lost more times than not in my first week. I work with an excellent and very adorable department. The doctors are nearly all male however, so I am fond of taunting my father with this fact since he maintains that it is good I did national service instead of military service where I would spend all my days with boys. So ha to my father!

I continue to be a vampire in the mornings, and for the rest of the day I follow my doctors around, assisting where I can. It is so refreshing to work with new people who only know me now, and not where I used to be. This is regarding language improvement, higher understanding of the culture and its expectations, as well as just a more general sense of belonging. I think it is so important for new immigrants to change up where they work very often at first because people can get stuck in their first impressions of us, and often they are not the most flattering impressions. These judgments people make about us may even be subconscious in nature, but it can be small issues such as assuming we need help for every single task no matter how small, or not thinking to assign us duties that may seem "too hard" or "too complex" for us. I am revering in the responsibilities I now get, even if they frighten and challenge me. Life would be vexatingly boring if we went through it without being terrified every now and then. I find that moving to a new environment has given me the space to stretch into the person I am now and not the person I was a year ago. This is invaluable in my opinion.

A short hilarious episode: Yesterday I was at our ward meeting and one resident was presenting a case we had had this past week. After she finished, the professor (he's the person in charge of the ward) turned to me and congenially asked me if I had gotten a chance to see the patient. I timorously replied "oh yes, he has great veins." The whole room erupted in laughter and the proffesor smilingly said "everyone from their perspective!"  

זה כל כך חשוב להתחיל דברים חדשים אפילו כשאין לנו כוח. חייבים לעשות ולנסות דברים חדשים כל הזמן והדבר הזה עוזר לנו להיות הבני אדם 

(טובים שנוכל להיות. בעצם זה החיים שלנו (לא תותים

Translation: It is so important to start new things even when we have no energy. We have to do and try new things all the time, and this helps us to be the best humans we can. This is basically life (not strawberries!)


I remain yours etc,
Shira

A Typical Afternoon in an Israeli Cafe--A Thoroughly Atypical Experience!

Hello Readers!

Happy Friday to you all. Brr, it's cold up here!
This week I would like to share with you a funny story that happened at a cafe this week:

Last month for my English birthday I received from the hospital a gift card to a cafe for a cup of coffee and a pastry. This past week was my Hebrew birthday, so I decided to go to the cafe with a friend of mine in celebration so I could use my gift card. We went right after work at about 4:00 pm. From the moment we entered, the whole setting was nothing but Israeli. It was somewhat bustling and as we neared the till to place our order a short blonde woman in a training-suit-type outfit started barking orders at the baristas. We noticed then that there was actually some construction going on in the cafe. Laborers were changing the wall paper and putting up framed photographs of various poses of coffee. All this during business hours!

After placing our order, we moved to sit down. Of course, the table had a whole tray of sugars and lids because there were photos being put up in the corner where the tray usually sat. As we waited for our coffees, we watched in fascination as the little blonde woman fluttered about yelling at the laborers about how to center the photographs and pestering the baristas to make the coffees faster. About five minutes later it dawned on me that this woman, who seemed to me to belong at the gym, must actually be either the manager or owner! I continued to survey her, mesmerized as I saw her cleaning up trash while asking the laborer she had just told off "do you have something to drink? Is this cola yours? Good!"

Eventually I realized I would have to physically approach the counter if I wanted our cappuccinos to arrive this century so I got up to go over and stand by the counter--my physical presence reminding the overworked baristas that I had ordered. Some minutes later, our cappuccinos finally in hand, my friend and I settled comfortably into our seats to try and have a relaxing discussion, despite the hullabaloo going on all around us. Suddenly, I noticed one photograph that had just been hung up (not with a nail, but rather with sticky tack on the back) seemed wrong. I stared for a long while and then concluded that it was upside down! I take a fair amount of photographs of coffee so I was fairly confidant of my assessment. 

I debated with myself if I should do the "Israeli" thing and tell them, or just keep this small piece of knowledge to myself. I gave in with a "When in Rome, do as the Romans do" and stopped the next barista passing by. "Excuse me, but that picture is upside down." I don't know what I was anticipating her reaction to be--perhaps denial? or a polite "I'll check into it," or any number of ordinary responses. What I definitely did not expect was her to cock her head, actually dip her skull a full ninety degrees to the side and mutter "Hmmm..." Then she frantically asked the laborer if he could still change the orientation of the photograph or was the tack already dry. I hadn't noticed, but this had become the central happening of the cafe as customers and workers alike waited with bated breath to see what would happen next. Working quickly, they flipped the photo to a communal sigh of consensus and a loud "hupa!" 

All continued on as usual then, and I got back to my date with my friend. I was feeling quite self-satisfied with the proceedings and chuckling to myself at my "only-in-Israel" experience. My American friend was still shocked by my Chutzpah. As we were preparing to depart I saw one laborer gazing intently at the photograph and then angrily declaring to the manager/owner "You know what? now it's upside down to me! I think it was right the other way!" 

I left grinning. What a typical afternoon in an Israeli cafe! The only thing missing in this picture was some well-meaning stranger trying to set me up with their son. Maybe next time... :D 

Here's the photo--I knew you're all so Israeli and therefore need to see the photo for yourselves. :D

***

One other incident happened this week. Because I am leaving my department at the hospital, I want to buy a present for the secretary because she has always been overwhelmingly kind and patient with me, and over the last year we have grown somewhat close. She has several plants in her office, so the obvious choice is to purchase a tasteful watering can for her. 

I happened to be at a large mall last week so I entered a quaint gift shop full of knick-knacks, hopeful I would find exactly what I was looking for. I combed the store to no avail, there was no watering pail in sight. I decided I would have to ask the clerk. Of course, I have no idea how to say watering can in Hebrew. I stubbornly refused to ask in English, despite the fact that I was in a major mall in Tel Aviv and obviously they would also understand English. 

Swallowing my pride I jotted "watering can" into Google translate and got "מזלף" as a result. For those of you who are also Olim, I am sure you can relate to the moment I then faced: "Well Shira", I said to myself, "probably that is how you actually say it. But what if it isn't? What if it's actually some swear word in slang, or perhaps an antiquated word? What if she looks at you like a lunatic and it becomes obvious you are a fraud?" Sucking in another deep breath, I advanced toward the clerk and shyly asked "סליחה, יש לך מזלף? לגינה?" I had added "for a garden" just in case. To my surprise and delight she immediately knew what I wanted and looked at me like I was indeed a normal person. She pointed me to the single one left in the store, buried in a corner. It happened to be unsuitable for the secretary, but that's beside the point. 

That moment was rough when I asked and I was waiting in limbo for a half second for her to answer, asking myself "Have I said a real word or did I just ask for gibberish?" I am 22 years old and it should not be a big deal to ask for a watering can. But alas, it really is. It is an ordeal each time. When I shop I try to hide my accent because I'm scared I'll be cheated if labeled a "foreigner." I remain silent in stores and take my chances with google translate rather than using English and risk revealing my identity. We all have to learn at some point, right? This time, it worked out just fine. And onward we go. Each day something new, forever advancing on the journey to feeling truly at home in the homeland. 


השבוע היה כיף כשאני מתקדמת עם הלימודים שלי של השפה והתרבות. כל פעם הקושי יורד עוד טיפה עד שיום אחד יהיה קל 

Translation: This week was fun as I am moving forward in my learning of the language and the culture. Each time the toughness lessens a drop until one day it will be easy.


I remain yours etc.,
Shira 

Moving not "abandoning" anyone!

Hello readers,

I have some news to share, and it's somewhat huge: I'm moving to Jerusalem! After much deliberation and consideration I have come to the decision that I want to finish my second year of Sherut Leumi (still can't decide if I should be a doctor or not, so not the most intelligent decision to run off to start studying anything yet) and I want to do it in the holy capital. There were many components to the decision including my utter disdain for my current living situation, my lack of friends in the area, and my general feelings that this isn't the part of the country I want to live in. I began to feel like I was on the bus all the time to Jerusalem as I was last year. I also really want to help my married siblings and I physically can't reach them during the week with the buses because it takes too long and I'm not able to get back to my apartment in time for work the next day. Essentially I have every other reason to move except for the department that I work in, which is nice to me and I enjoy working there.

This decision was difficult to make, and had many factors. A while ago I had inquired of my Rabbi, only somewhat in jest, what I should do with my life. The Rabbi's answer was direct and simple: "If you see a sign, it means yes." This sentence has been simmering in the back of my mind ever since. When my sister and I had decided we wanted to move to Jerusalem we began looking for positions on the internet. At first I received no leads. I tried again asking for names of coordinators instead of the position itself and this time obtained some information. I called the coordinators at all the major hospitals and received the same answers: "Sorry we have no openings for that position. You could do something else if you'd like." One lady even went so far as to kindly explain that the position of a medical assistant is so specific it is not the kind of thing that opens up in the middle of the year. I realized Jerusalem wasn't for me at this time and that I wasn't supposed to move yet. I was resigned and accepting.

Two days later I received a text saying that actually a position had just opened up asking if it was still relevant to me. I made some phone calls and the same woman who two days before had told me they never open up positions mid-year said that a new Internal ward had opened up and they needed a Medical Assistant (a.k.a. a vampire like myself). The woman told me she thought the position had fallen from the heavens--SIGN NUMBER ONE. We met the next day, and I was immediately accepted (they didn't have any other prospects) and not only that, but it's in the same branch of my current Sherut Leumi program making transfering very easy and not involving any paper work--SIGN NUMBER TWO. Next I was told I should be in touch with the coordinator in charge of apartments. I called her and was told she has exactly one empty spot in an apartment in Kiryat Moshe, which is a religious neighborhood right by the central bus station. I couldn't ask for a more perfect location--SIGN NUMBER THREE.

For the first time in a long while, everything was just falling into place for me. Things just kept working. It was an incredible feeling. I began to understand what the Rabbi meant. So far a few parts have been sad, like saying goodbye to my current department, and the one family that I babysit for and love to pieces, but they've been surprisingly understanding. I'm learning that Israelis are really tough. Their ability to accept and process bad news is amazing. Mostly they have started by being surprised and sad, and then said things like "Okay then, well good luck." "Shira we'll be sad but you have to do what is best for you." These sentiments have really heartened me. I struggle a lot with letting people down, and it's really hard for me to tell people I'm leaving them to go do something else. I'm growing a lot from this experience.

My roommates still have no idea how much I despise some of them (I obviously do not hate them all, but a select and loud minority I find impossible to live with). I think here people just assume if you have a problem you will air it out to everyone so if you're not verbally complaining everything must be just dandy. I'm not from a culture like that. I will always be polite to the people I board with, even if I hate their guts and wish them miles and miles away. Truth be told, my deparment also seems suprised because when I'm at work I look happy and fine, but they don't realize outside of work my life in Kfar Saba is dry and lifeless. They don't realize this because I don't talk about my problems at work! It's not really professional or relevant to them. Sigh, very very different cultures.

Another cultural difference is that the word used when someone leaves is עוזב (abandon) but I refuse to tell people I'm abandoning anyone or any place. I am quit simply, MOVING. I have gotten into arguments with people but I remain strong and refuse to say I'm abandoning. This small linguiscal difference has cultural affects. Abandoning has a negative context, almost as if a guilt trip is built in. Israelis think "No, that's just how we say it. It's the word we use and we all know what it means." This is very true, but I feel it carries with it an ominous undertone.

Well that's all for now. Wish me luck with my new adventure and if you're in Jerusalem do come call on me!

I remain yours etc.,
Shira

אז זהו עוד שלב שעובר אבל יהיה טוב בסוף. קצת קשה לי עכשיו אבל זה מאוד טבעי ויעבור. אני מחכה עד שיהיה גם כל כך ברור מה אלמד והאם אהיה רופאה בסוף או לא. כמו תמיד תודה לה" על כל העזרה שלו.

Translation: So that's it, another level that is passing but it will be good in the end. It is a little hard for me now, but is natural and will pass. I'm waiting until it will also be clear what I will learn and if I will be a doctor in the end or not. Like always, thanks to G-d for all his help.

As Summer Fades into Fall

Hello my dear readers,

The ideas swimming in my head aren't yet formed into something corporate enough to write about so I settled on a poem instead. The poem was supposed to express my feelings as the season is changing and summer is fading into autumn, but I don't feel it does justice to my thoughts. I suppose it is a start of sorts. Do try to enjoy!

I feel the season changing as my hours are with the clock.
Soon we shan't be able to leave home without  boots or sweaters.
When the first rain falls for all of two seconds, the natives I gleefully mock.
Yest still I dread the oncoming colds and flus from which we must now get better.

Darkness is more prevalent now, and in mornings it is hard to wake.
The path to school and work is fraught with chill and nip.
For some of my patients ankles and wrists will now start to ache.
Motivation is harder to come by, and ever chapped is my lip.

Sunshine is still found each day, although less and less.
The warmth of her I do so long for, as her friends the clouds take over.
I miss the days of summer now, when all was free and my hair a happy mess.
In summer everything feels right and it is easy to dream of rainbows and four-leaf clovers.

Well now you see why I don't rhyme or write poems, as my skills do dearly lack!
I ask only that you read with patience, since perhaps one day I will find my true knack!

I remain yours (a less than desirable poet),
Shira

היום קשה לי לכתוב את המחשבות שלי אז כתבתי שירה...ממש פחות כדאי לי!
Translation: Today it's hard for me to write my thoughts so I wrote a poem...really not worthwhile for me!