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Come together to raise nationwide awareness about glioblastoma (GBM), the most common, complex, treatment-resistant, and deadliest type of brain cancer.
On July 2, 2024, I hopped on a plane to Israel with the Momentum Unlimited Mother to Mother Unity Mission. Our aim: bear witness to the October 7th atrocities, volunteer, and share what we’d learned abroad with our respective local Jewish communities. And while I did embark upon a wild expedition, my camera phone did not include snapshots of Momentum itinerary items.
My ICU selfie is my sole memento. It is dear to me because it reminds me of my mission’s purpose — a crucial life lesson I would learn on this week-long journey to the Ichilov hospital (although I did not know it at the time) — and that is, how to live my life Jewish-ly.
On that first evening in Tel Aviv, our group of Jewish mamas hunched over each other in Tel Aviv Park at dusk, posing for a photo…when my head began to pound. “Must be dehydrated from the heat,” I muttered to myself. But before long, I was vomiting repeatedly. Two fellow Momentum Unlimited participants and doctors, Elisheva and Gila, triaged and rushed me to Tel Aviv Urgent Care. Questioning from the local medical team, including: “What is your age?” I responded, “11.”
“And where do you live?” I said, “NYC“ but I live in Maine. My responses clearly indicated that my mental status was altered. The Israeli triage team, assuming I’d consumed large quantities of alcohol, attempted to revitalize me with a saline IV drip. Within a few hours, I was responsive to questioning and promptly discharged to my hotel.
Elisheva and Gila phoned me to ensure I remained stable. When, after several attempts, I failed to answer their calls, they urged security to unlock my door and rush me back to Tel Aviv Urgent Care for a second evaluation.
Staff again insisted I was drunk and required IV fluids to recuperate from a late-night boozy binge. As they were hooking me up, a third Momentum volunteer, Donna, arrived on the scene. She reviewed my Unity Mission application. An hour of negotiation ensued. Finally, with the assistance of Donna’s supervisor, Urgent Care relented and ordered a CT. The scan revealed a 3.5 meningioma pressing against my frontal lobe and optic nerve. Edema surrounding the brain tumor meant I was in danger of seizing.
The medical team transferred me to the neurology ICU where I was monitored for several days. My husband flew into Israel to assist my transfer back to the United States. A full craniotomy in the USA on July 23, 2024, resulted in the entire resection of the meningioma.
Nearly a year following this major life event, I am safely typing this essay from my home in Maine. Yet the irony of this experience is not lost on me — the very people I journeyed to protect (MY people) ultimately assisted in saving my life.
Local Israeli Jewish volunteers were instrumental in ensuring I received the medical care I needed while also challenging the system at large. They insisted my diagnosis was mistaken. They researched my medical file, appealed to various health care providers to ensure my needs were met when I was unable to defend myself. In Judaism, this refers to observing the values of tikkun olam (repairing the world) and pursuing justice (tsedek). These are values I aim to implement as I assist my family members and friends on their medical journeys in the coming years. And values I wish to pursue when, some day, I return to Israel to bear witness to the 10/7 atrocities and volunteer as I am meant to do when the timing is right.
The Jewish concept of Kavanah refers to intention. To pray with both curiosity and with heart. Before my event in Israel, I rarely considered this to be a treasured value of mine. In fact, I was often quick to display emotion, skimming the page of a prayer book, competing with myself as I completed each task. Knowing each volunteer was physically seated across from me, offering me momentary reflection, a silly story, and loving guidance, sustained me while I awaited my test results. And after my tumor was removed? I have reflected upon these moments as guiding principles.
Life is fleeting. Living intentionally means appreciating the moments in between. And to truly understand this concept I have decided to implement weekly Shabbat dinners into my Judaism practice. This ritual involves reflection and allows me to be mindful and connect with myself and with family. Whatever practice, meaningful tradition, or ritual you implement, make sure you are providing it with Kavanah, and thus allowing it to flourish.
Since surviving a brain tumor in Israel, I have gained greater clarity and focus than ever before. I’ve learned my purpose is assisting others in recognizing their potential — as a provider, a wife, a mother, a Jewish woman, and a community member. Moving forward with intentionality has never been more important to me as it is now. To me, this is at the core of incorporating key values and concepts of Judaism into my daily life.
