Brain Trust   

“Ordinary,” though, was a rather relative term during these difficult months of the Gaza War. As a longtime limudei chol (English, history, science) teacher in the dati-leumi (National Religious) school system, many of my former students were risking their lives fighting the terrorists in Gaza, and at least one had already lost his life in the war zone. It was a shattering time for the Yidden of Eretz Yisrael. When we recited Unesaneh Tokef a few months previously during the Yamim Noraim of 5784, little did we dream just how prescient and tangible the words “mi yichyeh u’mi yamus” would be for many of us in the coming year.

And little did I know when I went to sleep that night that I, too, would be one of those whose gezeirah was sealed in Tishrei, that my life was about to be changed forever.

The first thing I remember upon waking up was finding myself in a spacious, multi-bed room and lying in what looked very much like a hospital bed, even though there didn’t appear to be any of the machinery generally associated with a hospital ward. As I shook myself out of my sleepy state, I noticed a number of things indicating that something was very wrong.

One, my body was loosely tied down to the mattress, and there were guardrails around the edges of the bed. Two, I realized that although my legs weren’t bandaged and I could bend my knees and wiggle my toes, I somehow knew I couldn’t walk. Three, I definitely felt like a chunk of time had passed since I had gone to bed that Sunday night on 22 Adar. I felt like I’d been asleep for maybe as long as a week.