FIFI, ZACHIA AND ME: Partners in Pain

Long time no write, dear blog. Well, the Big Mamoushka has some recovering to do. On Nov. 24 I had a total right-knee replacement at Sha'arei Tzedek Hospital in Jerusalem. Now a week and a half later, my knee is wearing a very stiff straightjacket, and it and the rest of my leg and foot are swollen, making it very difficult to carry out the exercises for range of motion and extension given to me by the hospital and by my new physiotherapist, who I'll call "DireDevilDave". After a difficult first session on Wednesday, he told me he let me off easy..... hence my choice of names for him.

But that was nothing compared to my hospital roommates, Fifi and Zachia. Two older women who fell and broke a bone connected to the hip, needed complicated surgery and the aftermath was/is very painful. Thank G-d these two elderly ladies both had lots of family around to protect them and their rights.

Fifi, a native of N. Africa (I believe Algeria), was treated especially roughly by the hospital staff, as they moved her from bed to chair and back to bed. Lucky for her, her tough, loud and aggressive daughter, Shoshi, was there to witness and loudly complain. The worst of this happened this past Shabbat, and I was an ear-witness to all (I had my curtains drawn in a naieve attempt to actually get in a Shabbat nap, so my eyes didn't see anything but my ears heard it all).

Fifi, although not always willing to do the movement she was told to do to get ready for the rehab ("shikum") phase of her recovery, showed noticeable improvement in spite of the way she was treated. During the six days I was hospitalized, she went from constantly sleeping or screaming in pain, to interacting with the environment, making calls on her rented phone and having conversations with people. She even drew some laughs as others in the room overheard her tell someone on the phone that her condition was "severe"...... Shoshi says that her mom's definition of "severe" is a bit different from that of others.

On the other side of me, there was Zachia, born in Israel right after her parents immigrated from Turkey, according to her daughter Yochi and her son Yossi. Her parents called her Zachia, a derivative of "zchut", right or privilege, as her parents felt privileged to have a daughter born in Israel. She, too, had difficulty making the right movements for herself, but she was a lot quieter than Fifi.

But the hard part for me to take, leaving aside the screams of pain and obvious discomfort, was that their cases exemplified the way older people are treated in hospitals and in general, in this country and elsewhere. I had no family members present to protect my rights - but then again I am a lot younger and in better shape than either of these ladies, not to mention a lot more mobile and able to care for myself.

The first stage of old age: You become invisible. Actually this happens during middle age. People don't see you. People don't hear you or heed you. Next stage: They hear you, but pretend they don't. They act annoyed and impatient at whatever you say or ask for or need help with.

It was painfully obvious to me how older people are treated here, and even more painful when I realize that this is supposed to be a Jewish country, with the very Jewish value of respecting one's elders. The hospital aides tossing these older ladies about - would they have treated their own mothers this way? I expect this in any other country in the world, but not in a country which is supposed to set an example for all mankind.

I, at age 60, contemplated my own future old age, too, and wondered (and still wonder) how I'll be treated, especially since I have no family here. A few of my friends have told me that they'd make sure I'd be protected, but - some road somewhere is paved with good intentions. It's scary and disheartening.

And now I'm out of there and home, in pain and discomfort - but around the things I know and love (like my little cat Chachi, now sitting next to my screen and trying to chase down the cursor on the screen). But Fifi and Zachia will be there for awhile, going into "shikum", and their recovery will be considerably slower.

Shoshi, Yochi and I all traded phone numbers. I have to remember to give them a call before Shabbat tomorrow.

May all of our pain and suffering be a major kappara for all three of us, and I sure hope we all recover fully to look back and laugh.