A Part Of Me:

by Karin Aharon

  “So we can take them out. You’ll feel a bit of a tug. Take a deep breath and exhale.” I did as he told me and felt how the drain was being pulled out of my body. I was so stressed and scared, I wanted to throw up. The second time was even scarier because I knew what was about to happen. But after they were both out, I felt some relief.

  “You can get dressed. Come back in a couple of days so we can see if everything is healing properly,” Dr. Katzman said with a smile.

  “Thank you,” I replied. I hoped now, that the drains were out, I could lift my hands up easily. Before the surgery, I had scheduled with a special physiotherapist whom I received warm recommendations about from Grace, and there were still a few days left before my first appointment.

  Gabi suggested that we all meet for dinner on Friday. I told him that if things continue to go on as well as they have, then I will come.

  These meetings since mom had passed away, overwhelmed me with loss. Actually, everything that happened was divided into “before” and “after.” Whenever I’d think of a certain event, I would stop to think if it was something that mom knew about. It’s been a little over two months, and sometimes it seemed it was only yesterday that she called me to ask how were the children and how work was, and on the other hand, it felt like forever.

  I tried going back to my routine at home as well. Natalie was with me, until Michael came back from work. With each day that passed I was able to do more and more things on my own. Romy quickly realized I couldn’t pick her up and I would change her on the carpet in the living room. It was fun with Natalie, but I hoped that by removing the drains, I would quickly be independent again.

  That day, I was able to grab a cup from the cabinet, all on my own.

  Chapter 76

  “I’m going to die.’ That was the first thought that crossed my mind when I first felt the pain in my back.

  “No, it’s impossible,” I reassured myself out loud. “The surgery is exterior and doesn’t affect interior organs.” I repeated Grace’s words to myself. Michael was still sleeping in Romy’s room and I didn’t bother anyone with my mumbling. I took a few deep breaths and tried alleviating the pain, but it didn’t help. I barely succeeded picking myself up into a sitting position, which made things a bit better.

  I took two aspirins, because I was told at the hospital it was good for the pain. They actually recommended a stronger version in drops, but it tasted so bitter that I preferred waiting 15 minutes instead of having to take it. So, I waited, and the pain really did pass.

  I hardly slept sitting up, and woke up exhausted that Friday morning.

  When the kids came back home, I took some of the Challah bread they made for Friday at Tammy’s daycare, and went in to rest before our lunch with grandpa. Michael still hadn’t finished something he needed to complete by Sunday, so we asked Natalie to come over. Now that she had a new boyfriend, she needed a lot of spending money.

  I woke up ten minutes after I had fallen asleep. The pain was unbearable. Even going through labor didn’t hurt as much, and I had two natural ones. Although one was unplanned (Ariel simply slipped out unannounced), still, I considered myself a true superwoman with a high pain threshold. But at that moment I realized this was a different kind of pain. I felt I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t even cry out for Michael, so I called him on the phone and whispered, “come quick”.

  After a split second he stood at the door and hysterically asked, “what happened?”

  “I can’t breathe,” I struggled to speak, “we need to go to the ER!”

  Michael helped me go down the stairs, and on our way out he asked Natalie whether she could stay. She saw me and yelled as the door closed behind us, “of course, feel better, honey,”.

  At the ER, Michael placed me on one of the beds. No one refused us when they saw how much pain I was in.

  A doctor approached me and I barely turned on my side and sighed with pain.

  “Probably pulled your diaphragm muscle,” he half-said half-inquired, “we’ll give you a Voltairean shot for the pain and Etopan for the infection. In twenty-four hours, you’ll feel like a different person.”

  Within minutes, a nurse came in and gave me a shot, and after fifteen minutes I felt some relief and could sit up in bed. Michael came back with a release form and we went back home. I was a bit humiliated for causing such a scene over a strained muscle. I felt so stupid at that moment.

  When we got home, I texted Gabi that we wouldn’t make it for lunch.

  Chapter 77

  That night passed by quietly and so did Saturday. I managed to clean the table from cereal leftovers all by myself, and even read a bedtime story to Adam, who insisted that I do it and not Michael. Poor Michael kept taking the kids out, over and over again so I could rest. I had a sneaking suspicion that he couldn’t wait for Sunday so he could rest in his office.

  “Do you need something before I leave?” he asked in the evening when the house was quiet and I was in bed (once again).

  “Leave the aspirin close, in case it hurts again at night.”

  “Good night. Call me if you need anything.” Michael placed the new aspirin pack he had bought for me, and gave me a good night kiss.

  “Good night,” I replied and he closed the door behind him.

  I saw another Grey’s Anatomy rerun (where everybody had their own private hospital room without having to book it first or pay extra). When I felt I was tired enough, I turned the TV off and tried to fall asleep.

  Ten minutes later, it started again. Excruciating pain that almost made me weep. It was 1 A.M. and I didn’t want to wake Michael up, because there really was nothing he could do to help. I took two aspirins and called Gabi. I knew that since mom had passed away, he wasn’t sleeping too well. He couldn’t fall asleep either. We didn’t talk much about it, but I knew he was a wreck. I didn’t know how he could even stay in their apartment surrounded by those memories. How could he sleep and see her empty side of the bed? If I were him, I would have definitely moved.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, and it didn’t seem like I had woken him up.

  “My back hurts again. The doctor said it would be over within twenty-four hours, but it’s been almost thirty. I think the Etopen isn’t working.”

  “Maybe you should go to the doctor again?”

  “We’ll see tomorrow,” I said with complete despair. I just wanted to sleep well for one night.

  “Call me tomorrow morning and let me know.” Gabi sounded worried, but all I could think of was sleeping.

  “OK, good night.”

  It was far from being a good night. It was in fact a very bad night. Every time I accidently lied on my back, I felt a sharp pain and I kept waking up over and over again. The hardest thing was, however, having time to think, think about what mom would have said about all of this. How she would have worried. Perhaps it was for the best that she wasn’t here to see it. She would have probably felt even guiltier.

  In the morning I got out of bed tired and aching, hoping things would get better as the day went by, and I could finally get back to normal. I was without the drains and could walk around and do different things. This pain made me feel sick again.

  ***

  After yet another painful night, I realized I had to go back to the ER. I decided to call Anna and ask her to come with me. I didn’t feel comfortable bothering Sarah again. Anna came after work and called me to come out.

  “I’m going to have an X-ray at the ER and I’ll be back,” I said to Natalie on my way out, “Michael will be here in about an hour, OK?”

  “Sure, honey. No worries. Say bye bye to mommy.” Only Romy cooperated and waved goodbye. Adam and Ariel were busy watching TV and couldn’t care less about what was happening as long as they could keep watching.

  “Number 13 to room 26,” I heard over the P.A. and Anna stayed outside as I rushed into roo
m 26.

  It was Dr. Rubinstein, whose daughter was with Ariel in Tammy’s daycare. Before this, we mostly met on daycare parties and the such. The thought of having to share with him the fact I had a surgery, embarrassed me, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

  “I thought I recognized your name,” he said with a smile when he saw my name on the screen. “What brings you here?”

  “I have a pain in my back since Thursday and also a little cough. They gave me Etopen and Arcoxia, but they don’t really help. I haven’t slept in a couple of nights because it hurts mostly when I’m lying down. So, I came for a chest X-ray because I was told it could be pneumonia.”

  “I see that you’ve had a surgery recently?” he looked at the computer. “A double mastectomy?”

  “Yes,” and I hoped the discussion about the matter was over.

  “Look, I’ll send you to have a chest X-ray like you wanted.” He kept looking at the screen and kept typing different things, I smiled in victory, “but if it’s turns out OK, then I’m sending you to the ER at the Tel Aviv Medical Center.”

  “What? Why?” I said and my smile faded away.

  “Because if it’s not pneumonia it can be a pulmonary embolism” images of mom at the hospital kept flashing in front of my eyes.

  I tried pushing them aside and said, “but the oxygen levels in my blood are great, the nurse found 98%. I don’t understand why you’re sending me to the ER.”

  “I’ve already seen cases where people had 100%, and still they had a blood clot.”

  “And we can’t check it here?” I was trying to negotiate so I wouldn’t have to spend the night at the ER.”

  “No, because there are special blood tests they only have at that ER.”

  “OK, we’ll talk after the X-Ray. Thank you.” I took my file and left. I was sorry I got him and not the other doctor. The other one would have given me another shot of Voltairean after the X-ray, instead of sending me to the hospital. Michael told me he was staying late at work. Natalie’s meter was ticking, and Anna had to go home at some point. I was so tired I felt as if I had a jet-lag.

  How unfortunate.

  ***

  “Number 13 to room 26.”

  I came back to him after the X-ray. Dr Rubinstein handed me the forms and asked whether someone could take me to the hospital ER.

  “Are you serious?” I said, not even trying to conceal my disappointment, “I just want to have a good night’s sleep.”

  “And I just want you to wake up from that sleep. Come on, go now. You have a letter from the hospital and a release form.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I wrote my phone number at the bottom, keep me posted.” Yes, sure, I’ll call you in the middle of the night to let you know you were wrong and I got another Voltairean shot.

  “OK, thank you.” I left the room depressed. Good thing Anna was with me.

  ***

  When we were on our way to the hospital, I called Michael, “Michael, I’m on my way to the Tel Aviv Medical Center.”

  “What? I thought you were going to the clinic.”

  “I was there and Dr. Rubinstein told me to go to the hospital. You know him. His daughter also goes to Tammy’s daycare.”

  “I don’t remember. Never mind. What did he say?” Michael sounded really worried.

  “That it might be a blood clot in my lungs. Remember mom had one?”

  “Yes. Strange.”

  “Right?! But I’m on my way to the hospital. Will you meet me there?” I wouldn’t usually drag Michael along to every medical appointment I had these last years, but that night I really didn’t want to be alone.

  “Sure. Who’s with the kids?” I heard him gathering his things and assumed I’d see him soon at the hospital.

  “Natalie, I’ll talk to her.” She was almost always happy to work overtime.

  “OK, see you there.”

  I texted Natalie and she promised to stay the night if necessary. I wasn’t sure what I would have done if it weren’t for her. My next phone call was to Dr. Kaspi, who had asked me to let him know if I didn’t feel well after the surgery. I wasn’t sure if he meant even 10 days after the surgery, but he was the only one who came to mind.

  Dr. Kaspi said it was strange because I wasn’t in any high-risk group, but that I would keep him posted (of course, he’d be my second call at 4 A.M., right after Dr. Rubinstein).

  Chapter 78

  After having waited for three hours at the ER, I became desperate. My entire chest hurt and I felt I couldn’t take it any longer. As I went to the nurses’ room and asked for some painkillers, I saw someone had taken my file. I signaled Michael to follow me and we followed the nurse who took us to an ER room with beds.

  “Dr. Kaspi has called several times, and his intern has been here twice. He said it’s not OK that no one has checked her yet,” I heard the nurse telling the woman sitting at the reception with her Facebook open. In a different situation, I would have felt like a celebrity, but at that moment, I was in so much pain that all I wanted to do was lie down.

  “Who is Shirley Moshe?” the nurse asked.

  “Me,” I said, and raised my hand like a schoolgirl.

  “Come, the doctor will soon be here to examine you.” She took me to the bed placed in the middle of the room, surrounded by blue worn-our curtains. Michael stood next to me.

  “So, what brings you here?” a doctor asked when he walked through the curtain.

  “My back hurts,” I replied and before I could finish, he interrupted me.

  “So, why aren’t you at the orthopedic ER?”

  “Because Dr. Rubinstein,” I emphasized his name because I knew he worked at the same hospital”, said he suspects it’s a blood clot in my lungs.”

  “OK, if Dr. Rubinstein says so, we’ll check for a PE, and then have some more tests.” His tone became softer and he disappeared behind the curtain within a second.

  A nurse came in and gave me something for the pain. After taking a blood sample she tried explaining to me what a pulmonary embolism was.

  ***

  “Where is Shirley Moshe?”

  “I’m here,” I waved my hand at the doctor.

  “You had a PE,” he shook my hand ceremoniously, “frankly, you surprised me.”

  “I’m happy that you’re pleased, but what does that mean exactly?”

  “According to your blood tests you have a clot in your lungs, but we want to confirm, so you’re going to have an angiogram CT to confirm.” I remembered that was a procedure mom went through only a couple of months ago. Maybe it was the cold at the ER, but I suddenly felt my entire body tremble.

  After a long night at the ER, they sent me to the ward and I got a private room. I was so exhausted and terrified that even that didn’t make me happy. After being admitted into the ward, they gave me a painful shot in my belly to thin my blood. I got something else for the pain and then the nurse left. There was a strong smell of hospital disinfectants but the ward was quiet. Every now and then I could hear beeping at the nurse’s desk. According to what I saw on my way to the room, I was significantly younger than the other patients in this ward.

  Michael sat on the chair in front of me, completely wiped out “I think I’m going to take a taxi home.”

  “OK,” although I wanted him to stay, I knew the children were about to wake up and it was best if they saw at least one of their parents.

  He kissed me goodbye and left. I stayed alone in bed. A pigeon sat on the window. I looked at it walking back and forth until it flew away. And then I was really on my own.

  I looked outside and the lights of the women’s ward shone from afar. It was the same building my mom stayed in five years ago.

  Everything started coming back to me. Mom also got these painful shots. How could she take it for such a long time? I co
uldn’t believe I was there, at the hospital, with blood clots in both of my lungs. Like mom. How could this have happened? I stood up shortly after the surgery and kept walking around as much as I could. I was active. I have never smoked, nor was I overweight. I didn’t meet any of the criteria. How did this happen to me?

  And then I wanted mom. I felt like a little girl. I cried, and cried, and couldn’t stop. The sun started coming up and I started realizing what had happened.

  I tried going over the last few days. Did I take good care of myself? Perhaps I was too careless?

  How could I have put myself in such a dangerous situation? I didn’t even think something like that could happen in this type of surgery. I almost made my children motherless. That thought made me cry even harder. My chest hurt from the procedure. Everything was still swollen and I could barely turn over from one side to another. At home I slept on a pile of pillows, but at the hospital they could hardly find a sad and flat one. There was no chance I could even nap in this terrible place. I had so many reasons to cry and I couldn’t tell why I was crying so much; whether it was the pain, the longing, the guilt, or just my exhaustion from my previous, long sleepless nights.

  I lay in bed and cried until I heard a soft knock on the door.

  “Shirley?” I heard a familiar Argentinean accent.

  “Dr. Kaspi, I can’t believe you’re here.” I didn’t think him coming over would move me so much. Now I was crying with excitement.

  “I asked about you during the night, and wanted to see you before I start my day.”

  “Thank you, only thanks to your phone calls did they even start treating me. If you wouldn’t have insisted, I would have still been in the hallway.”

  “It’s OK, no more crying. Everything is OK now.”

  “Yes,” I said, and despite it being a little embarrassing crying in front of him, I couldn’t help it.