“Maybe. But in any case, I don’t understand much about politics.”
“So bring me in – what did he mean by a ‘political work’?”
“Something political connected perhaps to the peace process – say with Egypt – or to the situation in the territories, or something more international – India, Africa, who knows.”
“You have a week. Why the pressure?”
“I want to do it before the holiday. You know that during dialysis, I’m out of commission. I can barely even read the newspaper.”
“Maybe do something about ‘Peace Now’?”
“Do you have material on them?” Her eyes lit up.
“No, not concrete material. But the movement claims, for example, that continuing the occupation of the West Bank and Gaza is counter to the goals of peace, and that compromise is essential because war isn’t a solution. I think that’s a decent starting point.”
I wasn’t a member of the movement – I couldn’t be, as a soldier – but I knew its principles well. Their bumper sticker was on our car’s rear fender.
“Interesting,” she said, growing serious.
“When are you going for tests?” I asked closer toward the evening time.
“I was there yesterday. Wait – what day was yesterday?”
“Thursday.”
“If they haven’t called, it must be fine.”
She had just finished the sentence when the phone rang.
“If it’s my mother, tell her I’ll call later,” she called from her studio, eager to get to her “political ideas.”
“Hello?” I said into the receiver.
“Hi, it’s Maya.”
Maya was one of the senior nurses in the dialysis unit; I’ll never forget her distinctive voice.
“I hope you’re calling to say happy holiday.”
Maya had become like family to us after training me in home dialysis.
“That too – but mainly I’m calling to update you that Lily’s potassium is high. Sunday’s dialysis you’ll do here with us, not at home.”
“Lily, can you do your next dialysis on Sunday at Pioneer Hospital? Your potassium is high,” I shouted toward the studio.
“Yes – we’re on break.”
“Maybe we should do dialysis today?” I worried about the effect of high potassium on the heart muscle and the faulty valve. Onthe other hand, I didn’t want to risk hearing: “Be her husband, not her doctor!” Still, I took the risk.
“I spoke to the boss – she can come Sunday morning. That’s perfectly fine.”
“Anything to avoid?”
“She should stick to the diet instructions we gave her,” Maya answered.
“See you Sunday, then. Happy holiday!”
I remained the husband and hung up.
