1. Yesterday, we had a completely new door installed; new lock and key, and much more safe. I timed Raphaela's nap to their arrival, and despite the horrendous construction noise (serious drilling, hammering and bashing), she slept through the entire event. In a lovely touch typical to Israel, once he had reinstalled the door frame and the new door, the construction worker (a non-religious man) gave me a full explanation of the difference between Ashkenazim and Sephardim in the way they place their mezuzah. He also told me that I did not have to make a new bracha, because the mezuzah had only been removed for several hours.
2. The Assutah Sleep Clinic called me specifically to tell me that I would be a poor parent if I had not already acted on the report they sent me, that Raphaela's situation is "pretty bad." Then they added, "But don't panic!" The Gan called me one day this week, concerned that while Raphaela was napping she had very shallow breathing and seemed to have minor "frothing at the mouth." Then they added, "But don't panic!" Right...
3. Today, while dropping off Raphaela at Gan, I happened to find out that most of the nursery teachers from this year will not be returning next year. I still trust the place and the head nursery teacher, and I know that the Gan provides an excellent and trustworthy environment, but it makes me sad because the women who take care of my daughter and her friends are warm and loving and professional, and Raphaela loves them.
Showing posts with label Assutah Hospital. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Assutah Hospital. Show all posts
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
And That's Why There's Health Insurance
Yesterday, the results of the Assutah Sleep Clinic arrived in the mail just in time for me to bring them back to the ENT surgeon. The summary of the data: Sleep Apnea? Hell, yes! (According the readout, Raphaela woke up 16 times in one hour because of the snoring and the limited breathing.)
After re-examining her tonsils, the ENT decided that Raphaela should have both her tonsils and her adenoids removed, and the sooner the better. Unfortunately, because the surgery will require that we stay over night in the hospital, he cannot perform the procedure himself, and gave me the names of other highly recommended surgeons in both Hadassah and Shaarei Zedek. I have decided to activate my private insurance, and try to get the head of the department for our case; as much as I appreciate the benefits of the Israeli Universal Health Care system, I will feel better if I can meet her doctor and know that he will be responsible. I am also going to ask him if he will allow me to be present in the operating theatre during the surgery, not only because of my medical background, but also because I am quite curious to see it being done. And I know on some level that Raphaela will know I am there, in the room with her, and it can only help.
Last night Raphaela came into my bed at some point, and while she lay beside me, I heard her laugh in her sleep. It reminded me of a passage in the book, The Little Prince, which describes the musical and magical quality of the laughter of a child. She awoke this morning and immediately asked me for kisses, and I could forgive the fact that it was five am.
After re-examining her tonsils, the ENT decided that Raphaela should have both her tonsils and her adenoids removed, and the sooner the better. Unfortunately, because the surgery will require that we stay over night in the hospital, he cannot perform the procedure himself, and gave me the names of other highly recommended surgeons in both Hadassah and Shaarei Zedek. I have decided to activate my private insurance, and try to get the head of the department for our case; as much as I appreciate the benefits of the Israeli Universal Health Care system, I will feel better if I can meet her doctor and know that he will be responsible. I am also going to ask him if he will allow me to be present in the operating theatre during the surgery, not only because of my medical background, but also because I am quite curious to see it being done. And I know on some level that Raphaela will know I am there, in the room with her, and it can only help.
Last night Raphaela came into my bed at some point, and while she lay beside me, I heard her laugh in her sleep. It reminded me of a passage in the book, The Little Prince, which describes the musical and magical quality of the laughter of a child. She awoke this morning and immediately asked me for kisses, and I could forgive the fact that it was five am.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The Summer Camp
When I dropped Raphaeal off at Gan this morning, they had posted a sign that said that "Due to popular demand..." they are extending their run by one more week into August, a camp of sorts for the kids who already attend the nursery the rest of the year.
I will, of course, take advantage of this arrangement, especially since I had started interviewing sitters for the month of August and found the pickings to be slim. It also depends upon the timing of Raphaela's surgery; I have yet to receive the results of the sleep clinic, and therefore cannot return to the ENT surgeon to finalize.
In Israel, you pay the same monthly amount for the whole year of nursery, even though they do not work during August; everyone deserves a vacation, and I presume that they charge the tuition this way in order to spread out the payments. But here is my question: if we have paid full price for the month of August, shouldn't the camp be free, or at least charge a minimal symbolic amount?
At the end of the day I am not complaining, the phenomenal care they provide has allowed my daughter to grow emotionally and intellectually this year, and I trust their care takers.
I will, of course, take advantage of this arrangement, especially since I had started interviewing sitters for the month of August and found the pickings to be slim. It also depends upon the timing of Raphaela's surgery; I have yet to receive the results of the sleep clinic, and therefore cannot return to the ENT surgeon to finalize.
In Israel, you pay the same monthly amount for the whole year of nursery, even though they do not work during August; everyone deserves a vacation, and I presume that they charge the tuition this way in order to spread out the payments. But here is my question: if we have paid full price for the month of August, shouldn't the camp be free, or at least charge a minimal symbolic amount?
At the end of the day I am not complaining, the phenomenal care they provide has allowed my daughter to grow emotionally and intellectually this year, and I trust their care takers.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Assutah III/Tel Aviv
I woke up in the Assutah Hospital Sleep Clinic at my regular time, ie around five am, and Raphaela woke up within twenty minutes after I did. Her mood was not stellar, nor did I expect it to be, and even the bribe of Bamba did very little to improve her disposition.
I briefly washed my face and brushed my teeth, and after six am I called my Uncle to pick us up and bring us back to their apartment; after my own appendectomy last month, and this round of tests for Raphaela, I have come to value family even more. While we were waiting, Raphaela helped feed the fish in the Japanese pond outside the hospital, amazing how they swarmed around a few pieces of bread.
I did not feel awake enough or emotionally ready to immediately return to Jerusalem, and so after a brief breakfast, I took Raphaela to the private nearby beach. At 7:30 in the morning, the beach is empty except for a group of serious surfer dudes, the sand is clean and soft, and the sun feels just right. Raphaela immediately settled in and started digging and building sand castles. With very little convincing, she agreed to stand near the water's edge, and her bravey increased exponentially. By the time we left we were both soaked, and in fact it was my daughter who pushed me to go deeper into the ocean.
That's three "firsts" for Raphaela: first time in Tel Aviv, first time (and hopefully the last) spending overnight in a medical facility, and first time at the beach rather than a chlorinated pool.
We spent all morning at the beach, and when I knew it was time to leave I started tearing up, I could not imagine leaving such a tranquil and happy place to return to my "real life" of preparing for Shabbat, checking emails and making office calls. The ocean has always made me feel whole, and I think that if I lived near the sea, I would never get any work done.
The drive back to Jerusalem was so much smoother and quicker than the ride the previous day, the highways remained clear except for one minor accident. Raphaela slept all the way home. Of course, between our clothing and our shoes and our beach bag, Raphaela and I brought home practically enough sand to set up a small beach on our living room floor.
I briefly washed my face and brushed my teeth, and after six am I called my Uncle to pick us up and bring us back to their apartment; after my own appendectomy last month, and this round of tests for Raphaela, I have come to value family even more. While we were waiting, Raphaela helped feed the fish in the Japanese pond outside the hospital, amazing how they swarmed around a few pieces of bread.
I did not feel awake enough or emotionally ready to immediately return to Jerusalem, and so after a brief breakfast, I took Raphaela to the private nearby beach. At 7:30 in the morning, the beach is empty except for a group of serious surfer dudes, the sand is clean and soft, and the sun feels just right. Raphaela immediately settled in and started digging and building sand castles. With very little convincing, she agreed to stand near the water's edge, and her bravey increased exponentially. By the time we left we were both soaked, and in fact it was my daughter who pushed me to go deeper into the ocean.
That's three "firsts" for Raphaela: first time in Tel Aviv, first time (and hopefully the last) spending overnight in a medical facility, and first time at the beach rather than a chlorinated pool.
We spent all morning at the beach, and when I knew it was time to leave I started tearing up, I could not imagine leaving such a tranquil and happy place to return to my "real life" of preparing for Shabbat, checking emails and making office calls. The ocean has always made me feel whole, and I think that if I lived near the sea, I would never get any work done.
The drive back to Jerusalem was so much smoother and quicker than the ride the previous day, the highways remained clear except for one minor accident. Raphaela slept all the way home. Of course, between our clothing and our shoes and our beach bag, Raphaela and I brought home practically enough sand to set up a small beach on our living room floor.
Assutah II
On Thursday afternoon, Raphaela and I battled traffic on the Ayalon highway, and after one and a half hours, arrived at my Great Aunt and Uncle, who live in Ramat Aviv. We spent several lovely hours there catching up, eating dinner and giving Raphaela a very unsuccessful bath, before we had to leave to the Assutah Sleep Clinic. It felt wonderful to have family around me, to disperse some of the accumulating stress about this exam and its implications.
It also became quite clear to me that unless I live in Tel Aviv, I will not work there no matter how high the demand; the commute would kill any positive energy I have toward my work as a Chiropractor.
For some reason, based upon the glowing descriptions I had heard, I expected the Assutach Hospital Sleep Clinic to resemble the Ein Karem Baby Hotel we stayed in right after the birth. The facility was fine, but hardly a place of luxury; the staff was pleasant and helpful, our room had a twin bed for the parent, a crib for the child and a small sink.
In fact, Raphaela was one of three children her age spending the night, and I again realized how blessed I am, because my daughter was the only child who went into bed and fell asleep quickly and without a fuss. As well, the other parents told me that their children were being monitored because they have been ill "all the time," whereas Raphaela thank G-d has only really been sick twice since her birth. (Not counting the perpetual low-grade runny nose...)
Neither of us had a decent night, in fact I cannot imagine how any child or adult rests when they are attached to electrodes and boxes and USB cables. In the morning, the technician commented to me, "Boy, she snores!" and then told me that in his non-medical professional opinion, Raphaela experienced Sleep Apnea many times during the night. In any case, the results come back within three weeks, at which point my family doctor and the ENT can figure out which surgery Raphaela requires to give her the gift of normal breathing.
It also became quite clear to me that unless I live in Tel Aviv, I will not work there no matter how high the demand; the commute would kill any positive energy I have toward my work as a Chiropractor.
For some reason, based upon the glowing descriptions I had heard, I expected the Assutach Hospital Sleep Clinic to resemble the Ein Karem Baby Hotel we stayed in right after the birth. The facility was fine, but hardly a place of luxury; the staff was pleasant and helpful, our room had a twin bed for the parent, a crib for the child and a small sink.
In fact, Raphaela was one of three children her age spending the night, and I again realized how blessed I am, because my daughter was the only child who went into bed and fell asleep quickly and without a fuss. As well, the other parents told me that their children were being monitored because they have been ill "all the time," whereas Raphaela thank G-d has only really been sick twice since her birth. (Not counting the perpetual low-grade runny nose...)
Neither of us had a decent night, in fact I cannot imagine how any child or adult rests when they are attached to electrodes and boxes and USB cables. In the morning, the technician commented to me, "Boy, she snores!" and then told me that in his non-medical professional opinion, Raphaela experienced Sleep Apnea many times during the night. In any case, the results come back within three weeks, at which point my family doctor and the ENT can figure out which surgery Raphaela requires to give her the gift of normal breathing.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Losing my Identity (Assutah)
Funny how when you become a parent, you lose your identity for a while. I myself am guilty of the crime: out of laziness more than anything else, I have not learned the name of every single parent of every single child at the Gan. Often, I will say, "Hello, Mother/Father of _____!" and then smile, to assuage some of the guilt of not knowing their grown-up name.
Today, Assutah Hospital called to remind me of Raphaela's appointment at their sleep clinic. This exam brings the ENT and my family doctor one step closer toward understanding when/if Raphaela will require surgery. The phone conversation started with, "Am I speaking to Raphaela's mother?" I am of course proud and happy to be my daughter's mother, though it entails only a part of the entire package that is me.
Right now I am most concerned about getting to Tel Aviv safely and finding the hospital. Because I do not have a GPS or Smart Phone, I have written the driving directions on Post-its; I will stick them on my steering wheel and peel each set of directions off as we achieve it.
Today, Assutah Hospital called to remind me of Raphaela's appointment at their sleep clinic. This exam brings the ENT and my family doctor one step closer toward understanding when/if Raphaela will require surgery. The phone conversation started with, "Am I speaking to Raphaela's mother?" I am of course proud and happy to be my daughter's mother, though it entails only a part of the entire package that is me.
Right now I am most concerned about getting to Tel Aviv safely and finding the hospital. Because I do not have a GPS or Smart Phone, I have written the driving directions on Post-its; I will stick them on my steering wheel and peel each set of directions off as we achieve it.
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