No match for a two-year-old

David Bogner’s son, Yonah, seems like a very sweet child with a very strong will.
First up is the latest saga concerning our youngest son, Yonah. He hasn’t been sleeping well for the past week, and he woke up a few mornings ago with one side of his neck swollen. No fever…no obvious tenderness (hard to tell since when he’s in a bad mood, he doesn’t tolerate poking and prodding anywhere), just a big goose-egg on his neck which looked suspiciously like a goiter.
So Zahava took Yonah to the pediatrician for a look-see.
Our pediatrician happens to be an extremely personable man with a fantastic bedside manner with the kids. Being able to actually get near the kids and gain their confidence is most of the battle, in my opinion as a parent and layman. That he also happens to be a very competent physician and a respected diagnostician is just gravy.
Now it is a rare kid indeed who looks forward to seeing the doctor… and in this respect Yonah has a normal, healthy loathing of the medical community in general and the pediatrician in particular. The moment he caught a whiff of that waiting room smell he basically tried to climb back into Zahava’s uterus. Not having one of those I can only speculate that this probably isn’t a pleasant sensation.
He didn’t have a fever and his throat looked basically OK, so the doctor decided that blood tests were in order.
How many people would you guess are required to restrain a 2-and-a-half year old for a blood draw. Two? Three? Keep going…
Let’s just say that there were more hands on that kid than there were square inches of exposed skin. I’m told that the screams could be heard in neighboring communities.
However, just to show that there were no hard feelings, once the procedure was completed, Yonah walked calmly to the door… turned around to make eye contact with the doctor… and with a small sniffle said “Thank you much“.
It would be a heartwarming anecdote if the story ended there. But the next day when the blood-work came back, it showed his white count through the roof. There was an infection there somewhere so the doc wrote out a scrip for antibiotics.
For non-Israelis reading this, I have to pause here to share a couple of things that may surprise you. First of all, you need a prescription to buy something as simple as an aspirin in Israel. Seriously. Anyone can walk in off the street here and buy codeine over the counter… but if you want to take two aspirin and call someone in the morning? Better have a prescription.
Likewise, Israeli docs don’t push antibiotics the way many American physicians do. So fearful is the Israeli medical community of creating drug-resistant strains that you can’t get antibiotic ointments (like Neosporin) here. In fact you can’t even buy antibacterial soap!
Anyway, back to the story. Yonah… antibiotics… a fairly big deal. But we had no idea how big a deal. You see, while most kids on the planet looooove the taste of bubblegum flavored Augmentin… Yonah, um, not so much.
Just for the record, getting fluids (such as blood) out of a struggling little boy is child’s play compared to trying to get something into him. This is because in addition to his ability to thrash, squirm and actually turn himself into a liquid, one also has to contend with his well-developed ability to spit.
When I got home from work on the day of his first dose I immediately noted that Zahava had a shiny, sticky sheen about her… and that she smelled vaguely of bubblegum. Apparently the tag-team efforts of the pharmacist and Zahava were not equal to Yonah’s ability to forcefully expectorate a fair amount of the first dose. Since then we’ve been able to get subsequent doses into him in no small part because of the experience I gained on my high school wrestling team. [For those of you out there who wrestled in high school or college, I have two words which will make everything clear: 'Banana Split'.]
Nice view of TAU
Fabian, an immigrant from Argentina, went to a Tel Aviv University Library to do some research, and posted a series of great photos from the campus. Here’s a taste:
First thing I saw was a tent with soft new-agey music coming out of it. It was an event for mothers and babies sponsored by a company that produces food for little humans.
[Note from Sarah: Tel Aviv University is a large institution, with a great many graduate students. It is also not terribly unusual for undergraduates to have babies, given that Israelis don't start college until after they've done 2-3 years of army service and often 1-2 years of travelling or working after that. Most undergraduates are well into their 20's when they start college.]
Inside the Central library, in a sector called “Limudit” (didactic) where the Microfilms of the Haaretz newspaper are located. From inside Limudit you can have a view of part of the central square of the campus.
Things look empty right now because classes don’t start until October 22, after the fall round of Jewish holidays.
The road to the little blue ID card
While Israeli citizenship is automatic for any Jew who moves to Israel, non-Jews may also become citizens. It’s just harder and takes longer. John is coming up on the end of that process:
Next month is my two year anniversary of living in Israel. It’s hard to believe. Since I am not Jewish, when I moved here I didn’t make aliyah – I just moved to Israel. I didn’t get any government benefits when I moved here. When I first got here, I got a tourist visa at the airport. That lasted for three months. When the time came to renew my visa, we met many of the wonderful people at the Interior Ministry. (sarcasm) Actually, there is a group of ladies there that know my whole life story – including which side of the bed I sleep on.
To make a long, boring, frustrating story short – after two years of tourist and temporary resident visas, next week I have an appointment to get my Israeli ID card or teudat zehut. 180 days after I get my teudat zehut, I can enroll the in the national healthcare system. Until now, I’ve had really crappy “tourist” insurance. Thank goodness I’ve been healthy for the past two years – tfu, tfu, tfu.
Even though it’s just a little card, this is a big step for me. More and more, my wallet is holding proof of my Israeliness. It seems a little surreal.
Up and coming tourist destination: Mitzpe Ramon
I have the good fortune of writing “Israel Travel” stories for The Jewish Week of New York. My latest such article is now up on the web; it describes several nice tourist sites in and near the town of Mitzpe Ramon, in the Negev desert. Enjoy.

Photo courtesy of The Alpaca Farm, Mitzpe Ramon
“For the sins we committed because we just weren’t thinking”

Thanks to a stupid tv stunt gone awry, Rafi has learned something about the nature of repentance during this repenting time of year:
Last night Dudu Topaz, an Israeli television personality always looking for something unusual to do to bump up his ratings, performed an unusual stunt.
NOTE: I did not see it. I am simply reporting what I read in the paper today and then what have heard on the news and from people who did see the show.
Dudu Topaz decided he had to do something never before done on television. He decided to light himself on fire. Why that? I have no idea. He seemingly took all the appropriate precautions (obviously not enough as you will see momentarily), applying to his body and clothes special coatings for protection. He lit himself on fire and I hope he got the ratings he was looking for. People tell me it was very impressive, though I do not understand why.
Why would people be impressed by that, especially if there is no risk because of all the coatings. What’s the big deal? It is not like he performed a test of stamina and endurance such as that which David Blaine performed or other stunt people. He simply applied the protective coatings and coverings and lit a match.
Anyway, he got his ratings.
Today it is all over the news that he has likely injured himself. They do not yet know the level of injury he has endured. He damaged the hearing in one of his ears. It seems that despite the protective materials, he came out of it in pain in one of his ears. It seems he burned something there badly and is now undergoing tests.
All around I hear people clucking their tongues in that Israeli style Americans have always hated (along with the turning up and scrunching of the fingers to indicate to wait, along with the tsk sound and a few other Israeli gestures) that indicates “poor guy”. People are concerned for his fate. They are listening to the news to hear updates on his condition and talking about it non-stop.
Is that what it means to be “Rachmanim B’nei Rachmanim”? Is this guy deserving of our mercy? He performed an utterly stupid act of lighting himself on fire for no tangible or pressing reason. He got injured from it. Does he deserve our mercy and pity and concern?
Is rachmanus a trait that we should offer only when things happen out of our own control, or even in situations like this where he did it to himself?
I do not have the answer. My personal feelings, and what I initially thought when the story came out this morning, was that the idiot deserves it. He did it to himself. It is a direct result of his actions.
Then as I was writing this post the thought came to me that now we are in the Aseres yemei teshuva, the Ten Days of Repentance. We are asking, and will be asking more so in a few days on Yom Kippur, of Hashem to show us mercy and absolve us of our sins and not punish us for them. Maybe we did things we should not have. As a result of those actions we might deserve certain punishments. Other things might not be punishments but simply “cause and affect” as a result of something we have done. yet we still beseech Hashem to forgive us and change our fate/destiny/fortune for good. I am sure for at least some of those things we (at least I) probably do not deserve a positive answer, yet we will look for His rachmanus anyways.
Maybe, especially during the ten Days of Repentance, we should show mercy and rachmanus even where it might not be deserved. Then we can say to Hashem, “I showed mercy when it was not called for, so please Hashem show mercy to me.”













