My Sister, Randi, Taught Me How to be a Bad Sickie

Disclaimer: I asked for and received Randi's permission before writing this post. She even helped.

Israel, it would seem, does not like my ankles. This is not the first time this issue has cropped up. As you may recall, the summer of 2004 was highlighted by two trips to Israel (Hornstein, then Pilgrimage) and two sprained ankles (one per program), with some hip and disk troubles thrown in just for fun.

This morning, I set out bright and early, and--not two blocks from my apartment--stepped into the street and twisted my ankle. I crawled the two feet back to the curb and sat for a few minutes to catch my breath. I got up, seemed to feel okay, and followed the First Rule of Randi: Never let an injury interfere with your previously made plans. Yes, I walked the two miles to the Yeshiva.

I felt fine, really, as I walked. I was just a little achy and very tired, but I already wrote about that yesterday. I was fine during minyan, and a powernap during the break between minyan and class helped. I trekked up the stairs to Talmud and took the shoe and sock off my right foot for the first time. I had a tiny bump, but it didn't seem like much. Twenty minutes later, however, when we went down to the Beit Midrash to work in chevrutas (study partners), I knew something was wrong. Second Rule of Randi: Don't ask for help unless (and until!) it really, really hurts. I gave in. Robin, one of my roommates, went to get an icepack and returned with Reb Pesach, one of the Roshei Yeshiva (School Heads), who also was a medic in the IDF. He looked at my ankle, sprayed it with cold stuff, and wrapped it in an ace bandage. I spent some time repositioning my elevated foot while in the midst of study. It hurt a lot at this point, which was when I learned that the mini-first aid kit in my backpack does not contain much that is of use. Cy, my kind chevruta, found me some advil while I started translating our next mishnah.

I hobbled carefully back up to the classroom, which meant I was not in danger of breaking the Third Rule of Randi: Under no circumstances should you get it checked out UNLESS you are unable to move. i.e. do not go to the doctor unless your foot/ankle is totally broken and you are unable to even hobble. See, I wasn't in such bad shape! I continued to ice my ankle throughout our class discussion on the brachot (blessings) to be said before eating food that comes from the ground--via a tree or otherwise--as well as foods that do not come from the ground. I look forward to more enlightenment tomorrow on why we know the bracha to say for vinegar, unripe fruits, and locusts, but Rabbi Yehuda says we do not make brachot on things that are types of curses. Why are these items curses? I have my theory, but stay tuned for an answer in the coming days.

To give you an example of some of what I've learned, the following comes directly from today's notes (on a different mishnah): "We have two readings/arguments, each possibly valid, each a little vague--it's important to recognize this ambiguity in the text, but it's not as necessary to resolve it. The Mishnah is an invitation to a conversation." Another interesting thought: the bracha is a rabbinic invention to evoke a certain sentiment or thought (in us) prior to consumption. The idea is for us to really consider the food before we eat it, and praise God as the source of everything that we are able to eat.

After class, the Advil had finally kicked in, and I was able to meet Evelyn for lunch at Cup-o-Joe's. Today was a day of many sightings...I saw Daniel, a former USYer and CJHS alumnus, and Sam, a current CJHS student, when their pilgrimage group arrived at Agron. I had two classes this afternoon, Midrash/Aggadah and Heschel, and then I headed home in a taxi. No walking for me tonight!

I am now quite comfortable on the couch, relaxing for once. Yes, Mom, I am following the ICE guidelines (ice, compression, elevation). I'm sure I'll be okay; my three roommates are taking good care of me.

A couple shout-outs:

1. This past Shabbat was Parashat Korach, when we read of Korach's rebellion against Moses. As I sat in shul, I thought about the first time I was in Israel--that was the parasha on my first Shabbat here in 1995, too. The next afternoon, I happened to bump into David, my rosh (group leader) for that program on Emek Refaim, a popular street here. For those who do not know, David has been and continues to be one of the most influential people--outside my family--on my growth in Judaism and commitment to Jewish communal service. I would not be studying at the Conservative Yeshiva this summer if it were not for his work 13 years ago. What a great juxtaposition.

2. Big shout-out to my darling niece, Izzie, who shouted out to me on her own blog, and also to my nephew, Carter, because he's just too wonderful for words. In this picture, they are playing with alphabet toys at Carter's first birthday party. Aren't they just lovely?

At least I can keep my sense of humor. I'm mildly amused by the whole thing. Still, let's hope for a slightly less eventful day tomorrow.

We'll talk soon...
Caroline