The pediatrician, with the nurse next to us, was busy dressing the wounds and stopping the toddler's bleeding. And it was only at 9:45 that they turned to leave. "Great," I rejoiced in my heart, "here I am... And from a storm to a storm, a very old woman came into the waiting room, leaning on a stick, and turned to me with a request, "I feel terrible pain, I have to be tested... Are you willing to give up my line?" Master of the Universe," a thought passes through my mind, "the faces of the elderly should be glorified, but my baby is also a soul that needs to be pitied"... The doctor peeks out of his room and signals to me, "Let her in, she's in a serious condition." "Well, the old woman has come in and here too, the matter is not simple, the doctor and the nurse go in and out, call another specialist... And the business with the old woman lasted almost an hour. At 10:40 A.M., after much deliberation by the doctor, an ambulance arrived and took the woman to the hospital. "And once again I take Elazar in my hand and decide in my heart: He will be killed and he will not pass, I will not give up the line no matter what, everything here is pikuach nefesh, but my child also needs medical treatment, and my Torah is no less important to the people of Israel, here I am rushing towards the door, and at the very same moment I enter the waiting room leaning on her two sisters, a young woman who is pale as lime, in other words, Three-quarters fainted. The doctor didn't have to signal to me, I immediately realized that here too my hand was on my lower hand, and the paleness of the current client's face paved the way for her to come in, and it was left for me and Elazar to wait for near salvation, because it would come.
This business also lasted about 40 minutes. Meanwhile, the waiting room thickened with more children and mothers. Although I am known here as the one who stands at the head of the line, the voice of the line may already be heard in our country, but holding on to the head of the line may be good for semantics, but not for reaching the end of the first seder in the kollel with an upright look.
Master of the Universe, when will it be my turn? "At 11:30 a.m., Dr. Hermon leaves his office and informs all those waiting, 'I'm very sorry, I've been called to Schneider Hospital for treatment of an urgent case, I'm needed in the operating room, but in half an hour Professor Shmaryahu Stav will come here and receive you.'" I look at my digital watch, scratch my head off the dome, and more precisely, I feel that my patience has run out and dissipated. Elazar is crying, and I'm not very good at pacifiers and Materna bottles. The minutes don't move, and Professor Stav has probably changed the prefix for another season. I am restless, the bubbles of steam and anger begin to bubble inside me and threaten to erupt after hours of waiting, and if I had feathers, they would surely pluck them one by one. "After 12 minutes, Professor Stav arrived, all smiling and kind, "Excuse me, but only in fifteen minutes will I put the first one in line", he apologized politely, "I have a conference call, a consortium of doctors regarding a dangerous patient", we have a choice!
He said, "He said." Truly, after fifteen minutes, the door to the doctor's room opens, but my eyes are fixed on the front door of the waiting room, and I pray that a child with a seizure will not break in, or an elderly person connected to an infusion, that they will all be healthy for up to 120 years, but when will I be able to exercise the right of the first in line? "A miracle happened. No one broke in, there was no emergency in sight, I went inside with my baby, and sat down in front of Prof. Stav, but I was still afraid that my euphoria was too early, that some traumatic patient might still take over the attention of the friendly doctor.
Prof. Stav picked up Elazar and laid him down comfortably on the treatment bed. He smiled pleasantly at him, took out a small flashlight and looked at his pupils, then checked his pulse, put a stick in his throat, struck him lightly on the back and said to me in these words: "Mr. Blumenstein, it was a miracle that I am here. It's a great miracle, let me explain to you, I started my career 30 years ago as a pediatrician, and over the years I left this profession and invested myself in research to study allergic symptoms. Yes, I am a professor of allergy, and this has been my specialty for 15 years. Today I was summoned here urgently, and once, because Dr. Hermon was rushed to another matter. And now regarding your son Elazar, he has a very rare allergy, which appears in babies once in ten million. A family doctor or a common pediatrician does not have the tools and knowledge to detect this allergy, its symptoms are completely similar to angina, or mild pneumonia, so the medical treatment you would have received for your sweet son, would not have been compatible with the problem, and the illness could have lasted six months or more, and even worsened, until one of the doctors suspected that it was an allergy, and the baby would have been referred to me for verification. The good news is that with a special week-long drug treatment, our Elazar will be completely healed, G-d willing, and will not have to carry an illness for many months, so say thank God for sending me here..." So far Professor Hermon. "Well, Rabbi Levy, what do you say? I sit restless, angry, feeling reprimanded and plucked feathers, and everything, really everything is for the best. Needless to say, Elazar was completely healthy, within a few days, her allergy went away and his energy returned."
