“Lily, they’re waiting for me, they came to pick me up. I’ll call from the base. Love you very much.” I hurried to finish and joined the man with the beret.
I climbed into the truck. I sat by the open window, the soldier sat in the middle, and beside him was the driver.
“Ethan,” the soldier introduced himself, “I’m the clinic sergeant. Nice to meet you.” He reached out his hand.
“Michael.” I sat down next to him. “It’s very hot here,” I noted the obvious, shaking his hand.
“Dr. Michael, four days, remember, four days – and you won’t even notice the heat anymore. Here we say Dr. Michael or The Doctor – you choose,” said Ethan.
“Michael is my first name,” I explained.
“And your family name?” asked Ethan.
“Whitney,” I said. Ethan looked at me and smiled. After a few seconds, he burst out laughing.
“Dr. Michael,” he finally said, “I think that’s fine.”
From then on, the name “Dr. Michael” stuck, and it’s my professional handle to this very day.
I was already familiar with the role of unit doctor from my previous posting, so the handover with Dr. Olivier, the base doctor, was very short. Still, what came after was unlike anything I could have imagined. Dr. Olivier asked if I knew anything about being a doctor in Eilat. I said no. He asked me to sit on the examination table, dragged over a chair, sat across from me, and began describing a situation I hadn’t thought possible in the army.
“The city has a doctor shortage,” he began. “So after the workday at the base, the base doctor can, if he wants, work as a family doctor at the health clinic, and also join the on-call shifts at the hospital, once every few nights.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. These were privileges young army doctors could only dream of.
“I thought you asked for this posting – or that your brother, who I hear is a military doctor, arranged it for you.”
I shook my head. Of course, I didn’t go into the real reason I had come to Eilat. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and said:
“Dr. Michael, this isn’t an artillery base in the Jordan Valley or on the Golan. You’re in Eilat. Welcome to paradise. I’m sure you’ll enjoy every minute.”
“What paradise are you talking about? It’s murderously hot here!” I burst out.
“I suppose Ethan told you the slogan: ‘Four days and the hell is behind you.’ Suffer a little, and I promise you’ll forget those first four days much faster than you can imagine.”
From that moment, Dr. Olivier, who spoke with a French accent, described the two years he had, as he put it, “enjoyed” in Eilat. Every morning, he thanked whoever had posted him there. He had received the posting right after immigrating from Belgium, and was certain they had screwed him by sending him to the desert. But when the “miracle,” as he called the service there, revealed itself to him, he was ready to go to synagogue to give thanks to anyone possible, even though he wasn’t religious.
“I promise you’ll understand this quickly. You won’t believe the luck that’s fallen into your lap. I envy you – really, I envy you!” he repeated several times.
“What do I need to do to make it happen?”
“In a few minutes, we’ll go to my second home, which will soon become your second home.” He answered cryptically. “Are you married?”
“Yes.”
“Then the hospital really will become your second home. What does she do?”
“She’s an artist. It’ll probably be hard for her here.”
“Don’t worry, she’ll enjoy it here,” he tried to reassure me.
“Do you have children?”
That was the first time anyone had asked me about children. Lily and I had never even raised the subject. I didn’t know if she could conceive – or if she was even allowed to.
“Come on, let’s go to the hospital. It’s already after noon, so maybe we won’t see anyone there, or maybe a few doctors will still be around,” he said.
We drove to what he called my future second home, which, like everything in Eilat, was only a five-minute drive away. On the way, I looked at the surroundings. We went up Yotam Hill,passed new neighborhoods, and pulled into the nearly empty hospital parking lot. Everything felt strange compared to New-Hope Medical Center. I felt just like Gulliver on his travels, landing on some unknown island – or more precisely, like a pioneer arriving in an unknown land.
