By Dorothea Shefer-Vanson
MEVASSERET ZION, Israel –The French lesson was just coming to an end last Monday morning when I received a call from my Other Half (OH) saying that he had fallen and hurt himself and was waiting for me in the nearby shopping mall. My good friend Lois took me to the spot where we found OH sitting in our car but unable to move. The manager of the nearby flower shop had brought him water to drink and ice for his cut lip, but OH was in pain, was definitely looking the worse for wear and had even called the emergency medical service.
As we got to the spot two young paramedics from United Hatzala arrived on orange motorbikes and began attending to the patient. They tried to ease him out of the car, but this was no simple matter as OH was evidently shaken and found every movement painful. Very soon a fully-equipped ambulance appeared, so that all at once there were several paramedics attending to OH, getting him onto a stretcher that folded into a wheelchair and installing him inside the ambulance. Once there, the full gamut of medical equipment came into play, with the administration of exhaustive tests of every kind, as well as of medication to ease the pain.
At this point one of the paramedics turned to me, verified my relationship with the patient and did his best to reassure me that OH was getting the best possible care. The main problem at this point was to move our car away from the spot where it was impeding the delivery of goods to the flower shop, the manager of which had attended to OH so kindly in the first moments after his fall. Finding a place for our car in the mall’s busy underground car park was no easy matter, but one of the paramedics took it upon himself to find a spot, and when he had found it he and a colleague made sure that it remained free while I moved our car there.
Once that had been done, the drive to Hadassah Hospital began. I sat in the front of the ambulance with the driver, but a mirror on the dashboard enabled me to see what was going on behind us in the back of the ambulance. I could see that three young paramedics were attending to OH, administering tests and medication, and engaging him in conversation. At the hospital we were taken to the Emergency Unit, placed in a cubicle and had nothing to do but wait as the various tests and procedures went ahead. After we had been waiting for a little while an orderly appeared with a trolley and deposited a tray of food for the patient to eat. As OH had injured his teeth in the fall this was not so easy, but at least some of the food was soft enough to eat.
The doctor in charge informed us that the results of all the medical tests were good. No bones had been broken, and there was no damage to his heart, lungs or brain. Nevertheless, because OH had fallen on his chest and was no longer in the first flush of youth, the doctor decided to keep him in overnight for observation. A special section of the Emergency Unit is set aside for overnight stays, and there OH remained, and even enjoyed visits from one of our granddaughters as well as a friend who works in the hospital. Eventually he managed to get a good night’s rest after having been given something to help him sleep.
The next morning, after breakfast, he underwent some more tests, and was then allowed to go home. We were lucky that his fall didn’t cause any serious damage, but the shock and pain are still with us. The lesson to be learned from this is that we must try to learn to ‘be our age’ and make a conscious effort to slow down, however hard this is for someone who still thinks he has the energy and stamina of his dim and distant youth.
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Dorothea Shefer-Vanson is an author and freelance writer based in the Jerusalem suburb of Mevasseret Zion, Israel. All of us at San Diego Jewish World wish her husband, Yigal, a refuah shlemah, a full and speedy recovery.