Don’t cry over spilled bleach

Did you know that everything happens for a reason? Sure, of course. Do we usually get to see the reason? Probs not. When good things happen to us, I think most people just accept the good in their lives and move on. Sometimes, hopefully, we acknowledge the good, and sometimes we don’t even notice it at all. But when something bad happens? Suddenly we try to find an explanation. A reason. A why, or why me?

Its not everyday that we get to see or understand the reason for something bad in our lives. In most cases we just need to have faith that there’s a reason, despite how bad things may seem. We can believe that caterpillars turn into beautiful butterflies, but when the caterpillar is crawling around on your picnic blanket, you may want to squish it instead of wait for it to form a cocoon and sprout wings. Just sayin’.

Here’s the crazy thing. Over the last couple years a lot of bad stuff has happened in my life. Or maybe its one bad thing that keeps rearing its ugly head? Either way, it’s a lot. And it’s bad.

I would not categorize myself as an optimist. I’m not really a pessimist either, maybe I’m just a realist? So let me be real with you for a minute. I don’t like when bad things happen. Maybe I need to work on my emunah (faith), but I am not at a point where I view Sarena’s diagnosis as a “blessing”. Having said that, there are so many things that happened over the last year and a half that have me saying “so THAT’S the reason!”

Allow me to reminisce…

Let’s throw it back to Spring 2017 when the idea of becoming OU-JLIC educators and moving to the US for a few years was absurd. We had finally gotten used to living in Israel, gotten used to the weird way the toilets flush and the funny taste of the water. Both sets of grandparents just moved to Israel, all our family was there (or on the way #tetta). We were living the dream! Why on earth would we uproot our lives and start something new? And yet, here we are, 3 years later…

When we first applied we were being interviewed for the position at Boston University. Shortly before we flew out for our final round of interviews the position at Rutgers University opened up. My response…”what’s Rutgers? Where the heck is New Brunswick”? After two very long days of interviews we were faced with a decision, BU or Rutgers? Boston was clearly a more beautiful city and would be a more unique opportunity, but we were ultimately drawn to Rutgers and chose to take the position there.

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Shortly after arriving at our glamorous, palatial home in New Brusnwick (read: mouse infested hovel) I remember thinking to myself “what in the world did I get myself into?” Fast forward to now. Aside from the incredible relationships we formed at Rutgers Hillel with both students and colleagues, there is one thing that has become very obvious. God truly put us in the right place at the right time. One of the best pediatric hospitals in New Jersey, Robert Wood Johnson, is literally down the street from our house. Now, I know Israel has a pretty thriving medical system, but I have no doubt that our journey to diagnose Sarena and come up with a treatment plan went as quickly and smoothly as it did because we had access to the doctors and medical professionals at RWJ. It doesn’t take much to realize “so THAT’S the reason!” we had to end up at Rutgers for these last three years.

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Every holiday and shabbat on campus is hectic, but our second sukkot at Rutgers, when Sarena was 7 months old was particularly busy. We were so excited to host countless students in our sukkah throughout the holiday. I even made my own decorations!

We were lucky enough to have my sister, Eti, and brother in law, Ethan (#MVP) join us for the entire Sukkot, since they were getting ready to move to Israel. When my sister arrived before the holiday began I decided to take a few minutes to sit down with her and write exactly what I had cooked and make a menu for each meal. This may sound like a normal thing to do, but usually I cook, cook, cook, and then just figure out what to serve right before each meal.

Once that was settled, I went upstairs and showered, then, like any normal person, I threw on a Mrs. potato head onesie to wear while I finished things up. As I started getting Sarena dressed (in a new outfit matching her sisters, of course), she started to have a seizure. This was only the second seizure she had, and the first one that was full body convulsions. Once she started seizing I laid her down on my sisters bed and waited for the seizure to stop. And waited. And waited. Now picture this scene. Eti calmly calling 911 and keeping an eye on Sarena, Ethan playing Dr. and making sure her breathing remained stable, Tzvi trying to get the big girls in their room and distracted, and me running up and down the hallway in a Mrs. potato head onesie alternating between yelling “what should I put on?!?!?” And “did she stop yet?!?”

Oh, and don’t forget tiny Atara running around yelling “her still doing it, her still doing it”.

When EMS finally got there she had already been actively seizing for around 15 minutes. They tried to stop the seizure at home before transporting her, but after working on her for several minutes the seizure still did not stop, so off to the hospital we went. 40 minutes before candle lighting. Expecting to host over 50 people in our Sukkah over the next week. Perfect.

Both Tzvi and I were able to go to the hospital knowing Eti and Ethan had the other girls. By the time we got to the hospital her seizure had not stopped, but my heart felt like it had. Sarena was whisked into (what I later learned was) the trauma area of the ER. Doctors and nurses surrounded her bed and were working on her, calling out to one another what they were doing and which drugs they were administering. “IV in. Ativan in. She’s still seizing. Another round of Ativan. Step back gang, lets give her a chance. Her levels are dropping, we need to intubate.” It felt like a scene right out of Grey’s Anatomy. Except it wasn’t. And I couldn’t change the channel.

Over an hour and a half after her seizure started, she was finally stabilized. Tzvi was then able to walk over to speak to my sister and brother in law and let them know what was going on. Since the holiday had already begun we had no way of communicating to the students that the meals would be canceled. My sister, precious gem that she is, not only took care of my three big kids, she also hosted and fed everyone that walked through the door over the next several days, knowing exactly what food I had because of the list we made before everything went crazy. It doesn’t take much to realize “so THAT’S the reason” Eti and Ethan were with us for Sukkot, and we were “randomly” more organized than ever.

If you think that’s good, wait until you hear the next story…

Summer 2019. We showed up to camp locked and loaded with every type of medicine Sarena could need, a typed up seizure protocol, and went over every detail with all the camp nurses and medical team. To say we were a little nervous is like saying Birkins are a little expensive (see last post if you don’t know what a Birkin is) but we were ready. Little did we know how ready we were…

The second Friday of camp the amazing nurses of Camp Nesher (#eaglenation) did a seizure simulation to make sure everyone knew exactly what to do if God forbid, Sarena had a seizure. They taped her seizure protocol and emergency medicine to the wall. They ran a drill, they were ready, “just in case”.

In the meantime, the rest of camp was getting ready for visiting day which was set to take place the following Sunday. Late Sunday morning Sarena was with her mothers helper while I was at the main tent checking visitors in, when it happened. My phone rang and I saw it was a call from one of the nurses at the infirmary. For anyone who has been at visiting day you probably know, there is NO cell reception because of all the extra people. I tried to answer, but the call dropped immediately. I didn’t wait. I ran. (For those of you who know me, running is not something I normally do). As I got to the front door of the infirmary one of the nurses was waiting for me. My mind was racing, my heart was pounding. When the nurse saw my panic stricken face her first words were “its not your kid!” and then “do you have more emergency meds to stop a seizure?”

For the second time in under a minute, I ran. This time, to our bunk to grab another dose of medicine before even hearing the nurse finish her sentence. After I gave the nurse my stash of medicine I found out that the grandfather of one of our campers was having a prolonged seizure and they needed Sarena’s medicine to stop it. The nurses we able to stop his seizure and stabilize him, in no small part due to Sarena’s medicine and the practice they had done a few days before. Not only that, but when the medical helicopter arrived to transport him to a local hospital, the medics praised the nurses for their quick and efficient response, stating that they likely saved this man’s life. For the rest of the summer, Sarena was known as a “shaliach mitzvah” (a messenger sent to do a good deed) and a “lifesaver”. I do not think it is a coincidence that throughout that summer was Sarena’s longest seizure free period from the time of her first seizure. It doesn’t take much to realize “so THAT’S the reason!” we had to be at camp despite our concerns and fears of the unknown.

You know what though? It’s not always these big, dramatic events that make us see there is a reason for everything. Sometimes it’s “just” the fact the my mother’s consulting job was in a random town in New Jersey, but happened to be within an hour of our house. Suddenly she was able to spend a good part of the year in New Brunswick helping us without compromising her commitment to her job.

Or how about the fact that Sephora offers free 2-day shipping just as I needed my shopping therapy most. Yes, I did buy myself something (read: Tom Ford lipstick) after every hospitalization. That is until she was hospitalized more than my lipstick budget allowed for…

I do not think it is always so easy to see why things happen the way they do. In fact, I think more often than not, we will be tasked with finding our own way to interpret a bad situation just to get through it. It’s not always about having the right medicine to save a person’s life, or realizing we are in the right place at the right time. Sometimes its seeing a bleach stain on your favorite shirt, but instead of crying over spilled bleach, wrap some rubber bands around it, add more bleach, and voila, you have yourself a trendy new outfit!

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