We can never forget where we are living
This morning, on my way to work, my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder reared its ugly head.
As I was nearing work, I heard a siren. A moment later, a Hatzala motorcycle (an EMT on a motorcycle, basically) passed me. A few seconds later, an ambulance passed me, and my neck straightened a little. A few seconds later, another ambulance passed, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, and I got that rushy feeling in my ears as I waited anxiously to hear another siren.
I did not, but that didn't keep me from shaking and taking deep breaths to try and stay calm while I hurried into work to check the news online. Nothing there.
I changed my clothes and checked again -- nothing.
I did a couple other things and checked again -- still nothing.
I finally breathed a sigh of relief and could go on about my day.
Except that I'd been getting pretty complacent about living here, and it hit me in just a few seconds that the PTSD has not gone away completely, and probably it never will.
***
Tonight, I went to the hotel where a friend of my mom's, from her college days, was staying with her husband. They're on a tour around Israel, and they invited me for dinner at the hotel, so we could spend some time chatting, and exchange stuff -- they brought me stuff, and I'm sending stuff home for my mom.
We had a lovely dinner and great discussions.
A little while before 10, I finally decided it was time to go. As they were walking me to the main entrance, a woman from their tour group came up to us and said something like, "So I'm sure you heard what happened."
As it turns out, there was a terrorist attack tonight. The details still aren't clear, though it appears it was a terrorist who entered a yeshiva (place where men learn Jewish stuff) and started shooting. It looks like at least eight men were killed and many more wounded.
The tourists were concerned that I wouldn't be able to get home... that the busses might not be running... that I wouldn't be safe... so I tried to reassure them, and I reminded them that as cruddy as it is when these things happen, life goes on. We'll be getting up and going about our business tomorrow (though it's true that probably several times throughout the day, and throughout the Sabbath, our thoughts will turn to the wounded... the dead... their families and friends), and they shouldn't freak out about being in Jerusalem because of this.
Thank G-d, it's been a long time since we've had an attack in Jerusalem. And in just a few seconds, I realized we can never forget where we are living.
***
Now it's time to try and get some rest, as I am supposed to run 10+ miles tomorrow morning. I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of thinking during that run.
As I was nearing work, I heard a siren. A moment later, a Hatzala motorcycle (an EMT on a motorcycle, basically) passed me. A few seconds later, an ambulance passed me, and my neck straightened a little. A few seconds later, another ambulance passed, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, and I got that rushy feeling in my ears as I waited anxiously to hear another siren.
I did not, but that didn't keep me from shaking and taking deep breaths to try and stay calm while I hurried into work to check the news online. Nothing there.
I changed my clothes and checked again -- nothing.
I did a couple other things and checked again -- still nothing.
I finally breathed a sigh of relief and could go on about my day.
Except that I'd been getting pretty complacent about living here, and it hit me in just a few seconds that the PTSD has not gone away completely, and probably it never will.
***
Tonight, I went to the hotel where a friend of my mom's, from her college days, was staying with her husband. They're on a tour around Israel, and they invited me for dinner at the hotel, so we could spend some time chatting, and exchange stuff -- they brought me stuff, and I'm sending stuff home for my mom.
We had a lovely dinner and great discussions.
A little while before 10, I finally decided it was time to go. As they were walking me to the main entrance, a woman from their tour group came up to us and said something like, "So I'm sure you heard what happened."
As it turns out, there was a terrorist attack tonight. The details still aren't clear, though it appears it was a terrorist who entered a yeshiva (place where men learn Jewish stuff) and started shooting. It looks like at least eight men were killed and many more wounded.
The tourists were concerned that I wouldn't be able to get home... that the busses might not be running... that I wouldn't be safe... so I tried to reassure them, and I reminded them that as cruddy as it is when these things happen, life goes on. We'll be getting up and going about our business tomorrow (though it's true that probably several times throughout the day, and throughout the Sabbath, our thoughts will turn to the wounded... the dead... their families and friends), and they shouldn't freak out about being in Jerusalem because of this.
Thank G-d, it's been a long time since we've had an attack in Jerusalem. And in just a few seconds, I realized we can never forget where we are living.
***
Now it's time to try and get some rest, as I am supposed to run 10+ miles tomorrow morning. I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of thinking during that run.
posted by M at 23:27
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