This Healthy Jew Has Been Sick
This Healthy Jew Has Been Sick
Because health is always a gift. We only choose to receive it.
I starting feeling sick two weeks ago. So I went for a run, which usually clears things up. Instead, the next day I got fever, chills, and lethargy. After a few days, the fever mostly went, but it was replaced by even worse fatigue, loss of appetite, scratching, night sweats, and more.
The doctor heard me out, checked me out, and declared that it sounds “overwhelmingly viral.” So he ordered blood tests, because that’s about all medicine can do for viruses.
When the results came in, Google and I promptly analyzed every marker that was off the charts. (There were a good bunch.)
As anyone who’s tried deciphering lab work online knows, there are two general possibilities for every result that’s way out of range:
Common cold, strep, random stomach virus, inflammation somewhere, possibly the flu, and so on.
Leukemia and other cancers.
Very calming, indeed. More information than we ever need to know, absent of any context.
Once the real doctor took a look, my labs indicated liver inflammation of some sort, perhaps from mysterious mono or one of its associates. Maybe even hepatitis. Still looking “overwhelmingly viral.”
But my liver enzymes and bilirubin were so high that he suggested I hop over to the ER on Friday to repeat the blood tests. Turned out the numbers had doubled since Wednesday, so I was invited to the Haddasah Hospital Observation Ward for the weekend.
It wasn’t all that bad, actually. Hadassah’s legendary Shabbos meals - funded, managed, and hosted there for decades by one remarkable family - are a charming ingathering of all stripes of Jews, taking a break from whatever ails them to sing, eat, and just be together.
And there was lots of quiet, the most precious commodity of all.
Thankfully, Sunday morning my lab work was slightly better, and tests had ruled out scary bile-duct blockages, so the crew let me go home. Thankfully, my lab work and I continue to improve a bit each day, so it seems my liver and I are on the mend.
It’s been quite an awkward moment for the author and publisher of The Healthy Jew. A sick health expert sounds about as legit as a trucker without a driving license, or a shopkeeper with nothing to sell.
Nobody has said anything too mean yet, at least not directly to me. But I can almost hear everyone whispering:
You joker! You write and talk all day about living healthfully. But where are all your Real Food and Wonders of Walking when you need them? Don’t blame stress, because you claimed to Solve Stress too. Either your advice is wrong, or you aren’t practicing what you preach. Whatever the reason, you aren’t The Healthy Jew after all.
If these are your thoughts, I get you. In fact, to a degree, I agree with you. I’m not The Healthy Jew.
But I’ve also never referred to myself as such, personifying a single person - me - as the model of health for all to respect and emulate. (If you find a place that I did, you win a prize.)
Instead, The Healthy Jew is the name of this prestigious publication and its affiliated enterprises.
I also call our growing community of subscribers Healthy Jews because we care enough about our health to learn about it, and there’s something quite Jewish and healthy about that. I too am striving to grow in health of body, mind, and spirit, which is why I share in these pages what I’ve learned, and continue to learn, along the way.
So us Healthy Jews choose and grow in health, each in his and her own way. Which is why I define our mission here like this:
The Healthy Jew is a call to take our health seriously – not only to make a good life possible, but because caring for ourselves is where good choices begin.
As Healthy Jews, we take our health seriously. Yet we might not always be perfectly healthy. In fact, we never are. To whatever degree we’re still growing in healthy living, we obviously have not yet reached perfection. Our deficiencies may be physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or, most probably, an interconnected combination of all four. What matters is that our flaws keep us striving toward greater balance, wholeness, and wellness, because actively and purposely choosing health is what makes us human. What’s more beautiful to behold than the slow unfolding of a genuine person?
Therefore, the health we talk of at The Healthy Jew isn’t a state of perfect of balance in every area of life. Instead, we refer to purposely choosing health, as a value.
For a variety of reasons, there’s no guarantee that any amount of healthy choices and actions will deliver perfect health forever. The primary cause is that perfection always lies beyond our reach, and is owned by God alone. Therefore, Scripture and liturgy refer to God as the Doctor, a title clarified by Rashi (Exodus 15:26) to mean that He guards and supports our health, not only that He heals diseases and wounds. Health is a gift from God.
Yet the same God who prescribes health and sickness also gave me a large role to play in determining if I’ll be healthy or sick. And if I’m sick, he delegated me a large role in regaining my wellness. Whatever my current condition, my job is to guide my actions toward the purpose of health, and delight in whatever sorts and amounts of wholeness I’ll receive from God in return.
If He decides, for reasons I don’t need to understand, that for today sickness is my lot, I still have no regrets for doing my part in choosing health. That’s all I was asked to do. And I’ll make healing choices, such as resting and taking medicine.
As for actually getting better, I pray to God to heal me. If you care to, you can Relate Well by also praying that my liver and I should have a speedy and complete recovery. It’s healthy for you.
Food for Thought: God and us are partners in health and healing. Our job is to choose what’s best for our health. He decides if being healthy is best for us.
For more on the partnership between man and God regarding health, read here:
Very well said!
May you continue healing to full health. Thank you for guiding us in health promoting ways- including honesty and humility.