If you’ve been following my stories on Instagram, then you know I ended up in the hospital this past week. It was for a stupid reason. I’ve been making a lot of stupid mistakes recently and this was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. I bought a vegeburger that had milk in it (for those of you who aren’t aware, milk is one of the MANY things that I am allergic to.) I had eaten from the same brand before but this was a different variation of it; so it was an honest mistake, but I kept beating myself up for it. Like how could I be so stupid? People accidentally give me food I’m allergic to all the time, but if I can’t even seem to keep myself alive, how can I expect others to?
Of course I ate this burger one minute before Dovid, Matis and I were supposed to go to a basketball game together (our first family outing in way too long). I was pretty sure I had everything under control. I have a severe allergy but lately my reactions have been rather mild, so I told them to go ahead without me.
Then as soon as they left, something felt off. I started experiencing scary reactions I had never experienced before, and to top it all off, I started having a panic attack. I quickly called my Mother in law, who lives nearby, and she took me straight to the hospital.
Obviously, the ER waiting room was packed with more people than I’d ever seen in my life. I waited in line to check in, and for the first time ever, when they heard how severe my reaction could potentially be, they immediately scooped me up into a wheelchair and rushed me to a room that had a whole team of doctors and nurses waiting for me. All at once everyone was poking and prodding me, and I literally looked like one of those actors in a soap opera with wires and tubes coming out of them from all angles.
My Mother in law was a star and calmed me down and got me out of there in 2 hours (definitely the shortest amount of time I’d ever spent in the ER). And I came home that night feeling a lot better. But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that this SOOO did NOT have to happen. Like why on earth was this necessary?!
When I was about to go to sleep I checked my phone one last time and realized I had a missed call and a voicemail. I listened to it and realized it was my doctor from the hospital. He said that he noticed something irregular because of one of the tests they did in the ER, and that I needed to go to see my primary care doctor for further testing.
Long story short, it turns out I had a very rare and very serious condition that was being caused by my antidepressant (that I had been taking for years, mind you). And then it all suddenly clicked. I had my reason. THAT’S why I was stupid. I needed to go to the hospital to get this random test to find out that I needed to get off of my medication before it potentially risked my health in a very serious way.
I have to say, hashgacha pratis stories aren’t really my thing. Mostly because I feel like, nowadays, they’re just used in a tainted and exploited way. Like those ads in the Jewish magazines trying to get you to pay some random rabbi to daven for you at the kotel for 40 days because it will completely change your life.
I’ve been reevaluating my place in Judaism a lot lately, and though I’m not exactly moved by every “it was meant to be” story out there, it’s still nice to be able to see how G-d is actively keeping me alive and well. I have a lot of questions, and though I’m not sure about anything really, I know that I believe in Him. A lot of people need logical reassurance and I get that. I’m starting to need that as well. But for the most part, I always have been very emotionally-based. And I feel Him and His presence in my life. For now, that’s enough for me; but, I think knowing Him on a logical level will only be able to deepen my connection to Him.
Thanks for listening and bearing with me as I figure out this thing called life. Wishing you all an amazing week!