Dr. Savta

Earlier this summer, we took two of our granddaughters to India. We enjoy taking grandchildren to foreign places after their bar/bat mitzvah. Most of the time we take 2 or 3 cousins, but sometimes it just works out to take siblings. These two delightful young ladies were a joy to travel with. Having been on numerous foreign trips with their parents and siblings, they are seasoned travelers who understood when our ride from Manali to Dharamsala consisted of some 7 hours of hairpin turns over bumpy roads. One remarked, “It only felt like 4 hours.”

I won’t go into detail, because this isn’t what this post is about, but I became ill close to the end of the tour and had to be hospitalized in an ICU in Delhi (the city is Delhi; a section of the city is called “New Delhi”).

So as not to ruin the girls’ trip because there were three more days with with highlights such as the Abha Neri Stepwell and the Monkey Temple and the Elephant ride and the Bollywood movie) and because there was no better solution (the girls sitting in a hospital lobby for hours on end??) my husband continued the tour with the girls while I was in the hospital. We agreed then and are certain now that it was the right decision.

Through the magic of WhatsApp, I kept my children informed as to what was happening to me. At some point (I am guessing it was very very early in this saga) the MTeam began its deliberations and planning. My 5 children went into immediate action, determining what had to be done and doing it- informing the insurance, deciding who should come to be with me, canceling my air ticket, monitoring what was being done for me at the hospital (MTeam affiliate and now full member- also known by my insurance as my daughter Nurit- was our wise medical consultant who was monitoring everything going on with me scrupulously). The MTeam worked like a well-oiled machine and nothing was left to chance- WhatsApps (I was not allowed to use my phone at all in the ICU, but since I was alone, they allowed me to use it on silent), photos of the injury, photos of my medical chart, questions that I never would have thought of for the doctors (I think every specialist in the hospital visited me at least once)… everything was monitored- and by the end of my second day there, my oldest son informed me that my middle son was on the plane on his way to be with me. At least 3 other children (including my daughter Nurit- who is actually my daughter-in-law) were ready and willing to come.

My son arrived and from then on he paved the way- interacting with the doctors and the hospital bureaucracy- in a foreign country where the most reliable English speakers were the doctors themselves who were exceedingly busy. He provided me with light and happiness.

The care was topnotch. The doctors followed every system; they monitored everything, Each specialist visited each day and gave feedback- Thank G-d, it was always positive feedback.

Meanwhile the MTeam was working in the background, dealing with the myriad of paperwork and reports requested by the insurance company. They were giving me strength through their messages and I felt held in their loving arms.

But all of this is not really about me and the hospitalization. It is about the MTeam- about my children working together- about how everyone contributed to the discussion and everyone added their input to the plan. It is about how they all kept in touch and how they all worked for one goal- to get me home healthy.

Of course every story should have a moral and of course mine does: When raising children there are some things people should remember

1. Someday they will grow up and like it or not, there may be situations when you will need them to help you.
2. If you have 5 children, 5 intelligent, caring heads are able to achieve the impossible.
3. If you are lucky enough to have a Nurit, you have hit the Jackpot.
4. Therefore: Take good care of your children, because someday, they may be the ones who make it all happen for you.
5. Give them opportunities to think creatively.
6. Show them what love and caring are.
7. Respect their intelligence.
8. Love and appreciate them
9. Be ready to deal with a group of Super-Heroes!!!!

End of story: My son was magnificent in dealing with the hospital, he rode over an hour- and then walked through the main bazaar to get us food from Chabad, he brought me snacks, and on our shabbat (the day before we left India) I had a private room where we sat and talked all day and every moment was a delight. Air India had stopped flying, but we were able to return home via Dubai and blessedly touched down Monday morning.

The caring and kindness continues- with daily dressing changes by my daughter (Maccabi Healthcare sent me a list of cities – not including Modiin- where I could get my dressing changed daily)  under Nurit’s supervision, Prepared food, fruits and vegetables- literally everything we need is being provided. What a blessing! Whatever I did for my children has been returned to me 500-fold.

Last night I received the tragic news of the passing of my dear colleague, Rita Silber. Rita was my friend and I will always miss her.

On the train to Machu Picchu

Rita and I met as colleagues- tour managers. Rita had years of experience and I was still fairly new. Rita, fluent in French, Hebrew, English and who knows how many other languages, was not only a consummate professional, but she was a warm, accepting colleague.

Rita and I had many adventures together. Once she led a group of French speakers to Vietnam and Cambodia alongside the group I led of English speakers. We worked together, side by side like a well-oiled machine. I never could achieve her level of elegance, but I certainly enjoyed her company.

I can’t remember at what point in our relationship we did Ecuador, Galapagos Islands, and Peru together, but we did that tour together twice. The first time, she was learning the route which I had already done . On that tour we had a largely Australian group. Both of us were worried about our lack of experience with Australian groups and were concerned about such things as the possible different sense of humor they might have. The group (which also included members from the US and Great Britain), turned out to be absolutely delightful- happy, spirited people with a robust sense of humor. We very much enjoyed that tour.

That tour was preparation for a much larger tour (about 50 people) that was a high level tour for VIPs.  We had another guide, a seasoned expert (fluent in 15 languages- yes, really!), Rita was our logistics person and we also traveled with our own chef and a mashgiach (kosher supervisor). Rita always knew how to get what we needed and even more from the hotels where we stayed. She never compromised on the quality of accommodations or service and most of the time, it was her charm that influenced people. However, when the powers that be were not cooperative, she knew how to be firm and she did prevail.

That tour was challenging in many ways- we had to deal with the leader of the group who was not aware of the limitations we dealt with and who had a very short fuse. We were, for the only time in her career, our colleague’s 40 year long career, and mine, of course, told by our guests that we were to sit at the staff table! The guests did not even learn our names. Our experienced colleague, Rita, and I all began to count the days until the tour would be over.

In the Galapagos, Rita and I got a very large room with a balcony on the ship. The leader of the group had rented the entire ship which held 100- and even with staff, we numbered only about 55- so there were cabins available and the staff on the ship gave us a premium room. One night we had a really rough sea. Apparently, I slept through most of the movement. When I got up in the morning, Rita said to me something about how rough the sea had been. I told her I didn’t notice. She said, “then how do you explain when you got up in the middle of the night you were running from one side of the room to the other!” We both burst out laughing, because I did have a vague memory of that…

When we arrived in Lima, Peru, one couple had mistakenly been assigned a room with a double bed instead of the twin beds they had requested. Rita and I, who were sharing a room, gave our room to them and we slept head to foot- but we did giggle a lot and made the best of it.

After our arrival in Cusco and subsequent visit to Machu Picchu, we stopped at Sacsayhuaman where the Incas had put up walls of huge rocks. It was a place just ripe for photos and so the group all stood in front of one of the rock walls and handed us about 50 cameras. Now this was already during the digital age and really, one or two photos would have been enough to distribute to everyone,. But they insisted we take a photo with everyone’s camera. So once they settled into their places, we started taking pictures. It was a sunny day and virtually all of them were wearing sunglasses. After we started taking the photos, we got yelled at: We hadn’t told people to look our way. We could not see their eyes. In a group that large, it was hard to see any details. But we took the pictures again!

The last night, the leader decided that he had made a wrong decision about the venue for their last group activity. We were in a restaurant where Rita had been supervising the preparation of dinner for several hours. This leader wanted the restaurant to exclusively serve his group and actually went and offered money to people who were either waiting for their order or eating- to leave the restaurant. All three of us were appalled. Rita left the restaurant and walked back to the hotel and rented a large meeting room for a significant amount of money so they could have their private meeting. The hotel was a good 15-20 minute walk away and all of that was necessitated by the poor planning of their leader. When we returned to Israel, it was to a letter sent to the company about the incompetence of all of the guides. Our boss was not impressed. He knew who he was dealing with.

After that adventure, Rita joined me on a trip to Japan, to learn yet another destination for her touring. We spent some pleasant time there as well.

Over the years, she and I would meet from time to time for coffee or for lunch and always for interesting and pleasant conversation. Rita was a remarkable person and I will miss her.

I imagine that what is going on in Israel is subject to all sorts of assumptions. Let me tell you what it is like for me.

For more than 20 years, every new apartment/home built in Israel has (by law) to have a sealed room.  This is a room that has heavily reinforced walls, ceiling, and floor and a door that when closed seals it shut when occupied in emergency situations. Some rooms are full sized rooms usually used as bedrooms. They have windows that open in and on the outside a heavy metal cover that the occupants can seal closed in times of emergency.  Once sealed, they are to protect us from bombs. missiles, rockets, and poison gas.

When an attack is imminent, we are notified by radio and/or phone app that our particular area is in danger. Depending where in Israel one lives, one may have as few as 15 seconds to reach the sealed room. In this current war, we in our city have about 90 seconds. Once inside, we must wait 10 minutes before opening the door and emerging.

Those attacking us, sending their weapons into cities to destroy, kill, and maim, are, of course, unpredictable and attacks can come at any time.

The destruction and deaths they cause are devastating, but we are strong and unafraid and try to conduct our lives normally. There are safe areas in stores and malls and hospitals and office buildings.

But here’s the part that pains me constantly: this war began when our enemies began firing at us, at the civilians. When our armed forces responded, we were told that we are wrong. We are criticized and are called “an apartheid state” – yet ask our Arab doctors, dentists, Knesset members, lawyers, pharmacists, nurses- and they will tell you that this is a society that is open to all of its citizens. If our radicalized Arab neighbors in Gaza were to make the decision to face the future with dignity and hope and to build a bright future for their children, we would embrace them and help them. It could happen.

Though never at war with us, the Emirates did not have diplomatic relations with us. But they decided to look to the future- to build a better future for themselves and finally, to build a future that includes us. When we visited in December, we found a warm welcome from people who see us as their cousins, all relatives of our father Abraham.

Israel does not want any innocents to suffer, not Jews, not Israeli Muslims, Christians, Druze, Circassians- and not the citizens of Gaza. That is why before any large action targeting the terror structures, the citizens of Gaza are warned and told to leave the premises.

Whoever says the people in Gaza are suffering- are right, but it is their own government, Hamas, that oppresses them. They cannot rebel because they know what the consequences will be for them and their families. If the UN, if the world, really cared about them, they would assist in freeing them from their oppressive government.

So while I sit in my closet (yes, my sealed room is my closet) and receive whatsapp photos of my grandchildren sitting in their sealed rooms, I wait for the day when people will understand that this is not a matter of who’s right- it’s a matter of people who want to live their lives (us) and people who want us dead (them).

Today marks shloshim, 30 days since Eli’s untimely death. It is very hard to believe that he is no longer with us.

I first met Eli shortly after I moved to Modiin in the spring of 1998. He was one of the first people I met here. With his friendly manner and contagious smile, he was immediately likable and as time passed, I got to know him better and better. He and my husband became fast friends, and whenever they were together there were deep discussions and lots of laughter. Eli had a smile that lit up the room. He was active, curious, interested in everything. He loved serving as a volunteer for the local police and would stop by our house on many shabbatot when he’d go to the station to see what was happening. He was always full of enthusiasm, and excitement.

People in Modiin in the Anglo community knew him and everyone felt his warmth and kindness and enjoyed being around him. He taught English in local schools and enjoyed his interactions with his students. He loved to teach and he loved to learn.

After his wife passed away, he came one day to our house and asked if I would give him my sister’s telephone number. Of course I did! The two of them couldn’t have been a better match. When Eli and Vicki were together there was lightness and happiness. I never saw him smile as much as he did during the times he and Vicki were together. Months later he came to our house and explained that since our parents were no longer alive, he could not ask them for her hand in marriage, but since I was the older sister, he could ask me.

Of course I said yes. It was obvious that they would be very happy together.

We went with them to make arrangements for the wedding- and what a wedding it was! It was so very happy with very special flower girls and a juggler who put on a great act and amazing music from a Dixieland band. And most important, our family embraced their Uncle Eli!!

Eli and Vicki made the most of their time together- traveling to Canada and the US, India (twice), Crete, Germany, England, and Austria. We were with them on a couple of their trips and Eli seemed to enjoy every minute of them. He was particularly enthralled by a little girl in the Tibetan Children’s Village in Dharamshala, India, who took him by the hand to show him where she slept.

On many shabbatot, Eli and Vicki would come to have lunch with us. His eyes sparkled as he looked at Vicki- as did hers when she looked back at him. They were always together- a couple, a team- and their love for one another and their happiness was always evident.

All of us will miss Eli, that is certain, but for my sister, the loss is beyond words. I pray that she will find comfort in the memories they made together and in the knowledge that the time they spent together was the happiest time of his life.

Friends, all of us are tired of this Covid thing. It’s been going on way too long. There are little people we need to hug. There are big people we need to hug. There are places we want to go, friends we want to see. Enough with the frightening statistics! Enough with the distancing! ENOUGH!!!!

But wishing it away isn’t working. And pretending it’s over is actually prolonging it. All of us who’d hoped that by summer things would ease up are still sitting at home. Part of the reason is that people are not being careful. Good people, people I respect, are wearing their masks on their mouth, but not their nose or on their nose but not their mouth. They are getting too close to each other.

Because this virus can’t be seen or sensed, we think that we and our family and friends are clean, uninfected- but this is an insidious, wily virus that sneaks its way into people, unrecognized until it begins to do battle with us. For some people, it seems there are no discernible symptoms, but this nasty virus can attack parts of the body so stealthily that harm is done before it is detected.

And the news media- even they are tired of this. Remember in the beginning there were heart-wrenching stories of people becoming very ill or dying from Covid-19? That’s still happening, but they are tired of reporting. If we don’t see it on the news or hear it, then it must be rare, we think.

Friends, it isn’t over. There is even reason to believe, say some, that it is getting worse. Guard your lives and those of the people you love- for yourself, for them, and for all of us. This will pass eventually- let’s at least do our part.