Netball:
As I have mentioned in the past, one daughter is doing netball this summer and has finally gotten her own netball. I begged her to let me take a picture because I love that it is an Israeli branded ball. Go Junior Maccabiah Netball Team! Kids, I can't help it that I like to take pictures of you. (Although I have recently realized that I take way more pictures of the dog)
The dog:
Yeah, she is still a cute pain in the bum. Because of my work schedule we were slightly late to get her groomed. So now she has a summer haircut. Still cute, just looks a little naked. Follow her on Instagram @GoldieFlufferNutter (I think. I cant keep up with Goldie and her social media)
Hebrew missteps:
Part I
So we are all eating dinner, acting normal. Hubby was not home, so he was probably at shul or work, I do not remember. Anyway, we are discussing children. And how one child thinks I treat another like the Golden Child. So said child says, I am a golden child, I am special, like Yosef. He was also a ben zekunim. At first I was offended because ummm, I was 27 when this child was born and a ben zekunim means a child of old age. Well, apparently this child thought that meant the youngest child. HAHA. Kids, they do make you laugh!
Part II
One girl went to the zoo with her class. The safari actually. There was an exhibit and the zoologist said in the exhibit there was a tarnagol hodu. Supposedly this animal was acting crazy. So at dinner this child is telling us this story in English and says, and we saw Indian chickens. Hubby and I look at each other and are like, what the heck is an Indian chicken. We said, ummmm, what did you see? What was it called in Hebrew? And this is where the truth came out. What she saw was a turkey.
Cue the laughter.
Now, tarnagol means chicken. Hodu means India. But Tarnagol Hodu means a turkey.
#IAmNotTheOnlyOneMakingThesesMistakes
Work:
Okay, so life has been whirlwind since my last blog. Why you may ask? Well, I was happily keeping myself more than busy with my new job. Navigating a new profession, a new language, new friends etc.. I was starting to get the hang of everything and how everything worked at my job. (never did figure out the shortcut from the time-clock to the locker room though) One afternoon, out of the blue I see that I have a few missed calls. I never can check my phone at work. It was a lucky day if I had a chance to get to the bathroom more than once a shift. And even if I do see my phone ring and I do not know the caller I always assume it is Shufersal calling me to tell me they don't have some item and then we start a fun game of Hebrew miscommunication. Anyway, I see that I have a few missed calls. So I listen to the voicemails on my way home.
It was the nurse recruiters from a different hospital. When I started job searching I applied to two hospitals at the same time. I wanted to work in the NICU which has always been my dream. But one hospital only had openings in Medical/Surgical nursing and one said I needed a special NICU course. I have not even been in Israel long enough to take this course. Anyway, thanks to friends, I did manage to get my resume to the right person and snag a job in the postpartum unit at hospital number two, where I had been happily baffled in Hebrew for almost two months.
And then I get this call. Hospital that did not have a spot now had a spot in the NICU if I wanted it. I had told them that was what I really wanted. I started off by thanking them and saying, no, I have a job, etc.. I have never left a job in the middle, only if the school year were ending or something like that. Then they called me again the next day and I said, okay, I will just come and visit the unit and ask questions. Ha - famous last words.
To make a longish story short. I now work in the NICU at Hadassah.
I have gone from white to green
This sort of blows my mind. I am not usually one for brand names and such, but Hadassah is just a part of my life (I am even a lifetime member thanks to my mother in law) And another fun and strange fact: My very first job out of college was working for Hadassah - in New York.
When I told this to someone and they had no idea there was also Hadassah in America, I said, umm yeah, that is where a lot of the money comes from #ReinforcingAmericanStereotypes
cue "The Circle of Life"
Now, I have only been working for a few days and yet I already have a story (stories) for you, oh faithful readers. Every new job comes with the dreaded paperwork and the dreaded, 'I don't know where any office is located, where do I park, who can I hound to answer all of my questions, etc'.. It does not help that this hospital is a maze. And let us remember again that everything is in Hebrew. And even though my Hebrew is much better, I am still not super confident about it. And I will never have the full Israeli attitude needed to get things done. Even in America I sort of waited for people to ask if I needed something instead of asking. I vividly remember in preschool when the teacher walked around pouring juice glasses, always hoping she would just hand me one and I wouldn't be left without and then have to speak up. Not much has changed.
Anyway, I get to my first day on the unit and my new manager hands me (and the other new nurse) a uniform. You have to go down to the laundry and get set up in the computer for your uniform. They have to sync the machine to your ID card and size. And then you get uniforms dispensed from a machine. Anyway, she hands us extras of her uniforms because we don't even have ID cards yet so we cant get anything. I am like, umm, this isn't going to fit. She says, I think it will, try. Awww, isn't she so sweet. So I try. The shirt is good. The pants are good if I only need to be covered from knees to ankles. So I tell her that the pants aren't happening. She hands me a different pair, one size bigger from some other cabinet. I manage to yank those suckers up and all is good as long as I have no plans to breathe or sit. Even if i have plans to breathe or sit, I will not be able to follow through on those plans.
The next day comes and I still just have this one little uniform which I washed because I am not yet in the system. So I go in on the second day and I say to the nurse I am following. 'Look, these aren't my pants. I need to go and talk to the laundry and get me some pants.' So I go down and the guy who is needed to place me into the system is gone for the day. But I tell the guys sitting there, 'look, I cant breathe. I need pants.' Thankfully one took pity on me and handed me a pair of scrubs and wow, not only could I breathe after that I could even sit if I wanted to. Life is glorious! You know it was a desperate situation if I walked up to someone and asked in Hebrew for new pants because I cannot breathe in mine. Ha! Nailing it!
Driving:
Okay, driving is not exactly my favorite activity. But I had to drive on the orientation day and the first day of work. I am very trusting of Waze but now I am in a fight with them. Let me begin by, Hadassah is at the top of a mountain. Like, it is plopped into this amazing setting.
But that means that it has a beautiful (narrow) winding road leading up to it. This American is too faint (feint?) of heart to handle it. But I have done it a few times and lived to tell the tale. Anyway, on the way home from orientation, Waze takes me on a different route. I guess it doesn't understand that I would prefer sitting in traffic versus going a new difficult way. Long drive short, I went down the road that our semi cousin calls, The Wall of Death. And she is Israeli Israeli (which is why I asked her to look at my route and tell me where I had been.) It was terrifying. She tells me it is one of the most beautiful roads in Israel but you really have to know what you are doing or it can be very dangerous. Yeah, ummmm, check me off for not knowing what I was doing.
Day #1 (the lighter blue is the scary road)
Next day comes and I check Waze first and I choose the longer but easier route home. All is good until I guess traffic starts to build and we switch routes. Suddenly I am going a way I have never been. I should have stopped and turned back when Waze took me through the parking lot of Yad V'Shem. I mean, that can't be a good sign. But no, I kept going. Lets just say the second route made the first one seem simple. There was much praying and breathing. Another reason this is such a holy place. Everyone is praying while driving.
Day #2 (everything is the scary other route)
Thankfully I am now registered for the work provided transportation and will always be skeptical of you WAZE!
On that note, I think I need to end this blog. It is bringing me back stress from my drive. Ah, but did I mention the view from the NICU. It is amazing. One day I will snap a picture of it.
