Superficial Joy

 Although I know without a doubt that leaving Israel now is the right thing to do, there is sadness in moving out of a place I've been for 3 years. In a grand paradox, the year I am leaving is the year I feel the most at home here. I no longer struggle to pump gas, ask for help or push my way to the front so I don't get left off the bus. I know how to get cash at the ATM, I know my neighbors and how to get to church each Sunday on the bus.  As I am writing this, I am on my final train trip hone from work. I have not felt super connected to a lot of my coworkers, but the bonds I did make are deep and strong. Two of my closest friends left last year. This year I made some new friends but the person that I walked through all three years with was Mark. I call him my teaching partner even though he taught a different grade. We started in the middle school the same year--the year of Covid. It was a terrible year made bearable by trudging through it with him.  The Israeli countr...

 I am delighted to announce that I will be working at Riverstone International School in Boise, Idaho, next year! I will be back in Boise in July to begin the school year in August. Boise, Idaho

 The results are in: Benign!!! I've been back in Israel since Sunday, late afternoon. I was fine through Monday afternoon, realizing nobody was working in America until 5 p.m. my time. I figured the doctor would call that night and I'd leave my phone on in case she did. However, I fell asleep at 7:30 that night but awoke at midnight--too groggy to realize my phone was in airplane mode. There were no messages when I turned it back on.  Tuesday I took a nap from 4-7 p.m. and called the doctor after Bible study ended at 9. I was super nervous. Nothing yet. Please keep in mind I am utterly exhausted at this point and ended up crying on the phone to the nurse, who said she would call the imaging center to check on it and call me back. I never heard back from her. I slept from 9:30 until 2 a.m., just in time to watch TCU get trampled in the National Championship game. When Wednesday rolled around I got to keep busy because it is our long day at work. I was beginning to wonder if som...

It is 2:19 a.m. in Tel Aviv and the jetlag is in full swing. I awoke about 30 minutes ago and about 2 minutes later I knew I was up for a while.  A few minutes after that I realized my phone is in airplane mode and I wouldn't have heard the doctor call if she did. My whole body started to buzz as I felt anxiety wash over me. Would the doctor leave a message? What if she called since I went to sleep at 9:30, overcome by exhaustion and there is a message to call back? Worse, what if there is a message to call back quickly? Would a doctor leave such a message? I was down the rabbit hole. I needed to turn on the phone to stop the madness in my head (does anybody remeber the " Stop the Insanity !" lady? I think of her yelling every time I say 'Stop the Madness' even though I am misquoting). Airplane mode off. No messages. Luckily if she did call with results there is no evidence. Thank you, God! That would drive me crazy all day--I'd have to wait until 5 p.m. for ...

 The sterostactic biopsy was scheduled for Wednesday morning at 10:30 and I was to arrive at 9:45. My mom agreed to go with me although no one was allowed to go with me to the procedure (like my friend Kelli who held my hand and talked for 45 minutes straight when I had an MRI). I felt calm but as I did each task I got a little more nervous. Mom and in front of the ARA Imaging clinic When the nurse called me back I immediately told her I have some questions I'd like to ask the doctor before we do the procedure. She cheerfully  said, "no problem." We sat down in a little office and she asked first what my questions are, so that she could tell the doctor and he could get ready to talk to me. I told her my concerns and she stepped out to relay to the doctor. The one question she did  answer was, Is this guy a good doctor?  Her response was reassuring: "I love him! He's the one she would pick to do a procedure on her." After she took my vital signs we walked to...

Outside the Bullock Museum, Austin I was exhausted after the diagnostic mammogram which, usually less than an hour in total, turned out to be a 5 hour extravaganza. When I got home I burst into tears and had a good cry before I could even get out of the car. I started praying for calm and peace.  More than the results of the biopsy I was freaking out about the procedure itself. Although the doctor and nurses assured me I would only feel the first numbing shot of the local anesthetic, I didn't believe them. Several times in the past I have been told the same thing, only to feel a lot of pain during the procedure. Despite my best efforts I would find myself worried about how I would react to the pain, if I would feel more than the first shot, if these people were trustworthy, if this doctor is good, etc.  I told my parents the news over a dinner of grilled catfish and they did not seem overly concerned--which helped me so much, I think. Wanting to please them gave me a sort of "...