A Healing Encounter

Hey, tribe.

So earlier this week, I went to my longtime primary physician for my annual visit. Here I have to say that it’s a truly great feeling to love and trust one’s doctor. I’m from New York City, where the air itself often seems to be Jewish, and I’m most comfortable with a forthright conversational style. This style is not prized in the Pacific Northwest, where I now live. So when I find it, I hold on tight.

To give you an idea of who my doctor is, I’ll paste in a post from 3 years ago, describing a check-up after my kidney donation. I guess that requires a sentence of backstory as well, so: in 2019, partly as an expression of my Zionism, I donated a kidney to a young Jewish mother with a very young child. We were total strangers, but we were also family. It remains one of the most extraordinarily beautiful experiences I’ve ever had, but mostly it’s a story for another day.

So here is my Facebook update following that post-donation checkup:

*

I really love my doctor. She strikes me as the Asian version of my own mother -- slim, petite, silver-haired and The Boss. She manages to be very warm and very straightforward and blunt at the same time, so you never have to worry she's not telling you what she really thinks.

Today I went in to retake my recent blood test because I had such a freakish creatinine score. The medical assistant took my blood pressure and then we had this convo:

Her: "Oh, wow. Let me take that again. That doesn't seem right."

Me: "Why, what's wrong?"

Her: "It's very low."

Me: "I'm always low."

Her: "Oh, wow, same score. Okay, so the first one wasn't a fluke."

Me: "Is today's score an anomaly compared to all my other ones?"

Her: "Let me see... oh yes. It is. It's much lower."

So now I'm starting to worry. To have freakishly low blood pressure given the rage and fear I have felt nearly every day for the LAST FOUR YEARS seems counterintuitive indeed.

Me: "So what could that mean?"

Her: "I'll let the doctor discuss that with you."

Exit medical assistant; enter The Boss, in all her understated and yet inherently regal authority.

The Boss: "So what's going on with you?"

Me: "Well, you tell me. It seems there's some strange stuff going on."

Her: "What do you mean?"

Me: "Well, my creatinine score was freakishly low, and now so is my blood pressure apparently."

Her: "Your blood pressure is fine."

Me: "But the young woman who was just here said it had dropped dramatically."

Her: "She is a medical assistant. The medical assistants graduated high school six months ago. They have no valid medical opinions. I wish they'd stop talking. But that's human nature. So let's move on. Why are you worried about your creatinine?"

Me: "Well, I'm thinking it can't be right. How could it be .6 before donation and .2 a year later? I never heard of creatinine being .2 for anyone, let alone a kidney donor."

Her: "It's true that it's a very strange number. But we don't worry about strangely low numbers. The test is meant to detect elevated levels. It doesn't reflect fine precision when the levels are normal."

Me: "But couldn't it be a typo? I mean, what if my level is really 2 instead of .2?"

Her: "Then you would be hypertensive and you'd feel like hell. Is there anything else you're worried about?"

Me: "No."

Her: "Okay, then. There's nothing else I'm worried about either."

*

Okay, so that’s who she is. No bullshit and yet somehow very reassuring at the same time. Something else I deeply appreciate about her is that she did not want me to donate a kidney and tried to talk me out of it, but once I had gone ahead and done it, she was especially warm and congratulatory.

Anyway, so I went in again a few days ago. As part of the usual pleasantries after she walked into the room, she said: “What are you writing these days? It’s always interesting to hear what you’re writing.”

And I sat there with a feeling I have had a hundred times before.

Fuck. Fuck! I really like her. I’m comfortable with her. If she hates us, do I even want to know? What if I have to change doctors? I really don’t want to change doctors.

But I also thought: fuck it, I’m not going to hide.

So I said, “It’s interesting you asked me that since I just made a life-altering decision to pivot in my writing career.”

“Oh? Pivot how?”

“Well, I decided I’m not going to ghostwrite anymore. I’m still going to write, but I’m going to do Jewish advocacy instead.”

That dreaded silence.

Then: “Jewish advocacy? What does that mean?”

"It means that given the state of things at this political moment, I’m going to devote myself to defending my people, defending Israel, and building a community of progressive Zionists.”

Another pause, during which I’m prepared for an abrupt gear switch to medical issues. No true professional would let their distaste for a patient affect their quality of care, and I knew she was a true professional. But I also love her and I didn’t want the warmth between us to vanish and I felt that if it did, I would likely switch doctors even though she was someone I trust and respect as a professional.

Finally she said, “Was this decision inspired by what happened on October 7th?”

“Yes. And by all that’s happened since.”

“I understand. You know, it absolutely amazes me that people in this country can’t tell the difference between terrorism and a defense against terrorism.”

It was the last thing in the world I expected her to say. Everything changed in that moment, but it changed for the better. She LOVES Israel, even though she isn’t Jewish. And as we spoke for the next ten minutes about the Jewish nation, I felt closer to her than I have in more than a decade of doctor visits.

So as with the theater employee, Mark, there really are a lot of non-Jews who get it, even within our own cultural and intellectual circles. We don’t always know it because they’re not out there screaming, spitting, waving flags and ranting on social media.

And recognizing this is a key to staying sane.

I’m not saying we concentrate only on these people and ignore the haters. Or that we should only look at the bright side all the time. I never want to advocate for toxic positivity. We can’t afford not to be aware of how many anti-Semites are all around us.

But we can’t look only at them. They’re not the whole truth. And resisting them and staying strong will RELY on a certain kind of self-care that has nothing to do with spa days, or blocking out the news, or transcendental meditation (though I’m not knocking that or any other practice like it). I’m saying only that this is a brand of self-care too and we must avail ourselves of it, as a daily practice if possible. I hope this substack can help with that, because again, I’m going to make it one of many regular features offered here.

In the meantime, thank you so much for being here. I’m inexpressibly thrilled to be building a community with all of you. Please pass this substack on to anyone who might appreciate it.

Heartfelt love to you all. Am Yisrael Chai.