“The mekubal said to stop worrying so much. It’s not as bad as you think. You need more bitachon”
T
he young nurse quietly slips a piece of paper into my hand. On it are her name and private cell phone number. “If you have any trouble making appointments quickly, or getting test results, give me a call and I’ll try and help.”
My stomach lurches. I know then that my colonoscopy results show I have a real problem. Why else is she so kind to me? But I also know that I won’t be alone in this ordeal. Already, this sweet young nurse is offering me her help and support in the challenging months ahead.
It’s the beginning of Elul and we’re told that during Elul, the King, HaKadosh Baruch Hu, doesn’t wait for us to come to His throne — He comes down to us and seeks us out wherever we are. We don’t need an appointment, preparation, or long-winded rehearsals. He will listen to us, to our prayers, entreaties, fears, and hopes.
The next few weeks are a blur of phone calls, setting appointments, hours spent waiting in clinics, and weeks spent awaiting results. MRI, CTs, PET CT. Weeks of no appetite, of gnawing fear. The pounds are dropping off me from lack of appetite — pounds that no diet in the past had managed to budge. How bad is it? Will I live to see any of my grandchildren under the chuppah?
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