“Because they’ve done so much for you over the years. They’re professionals. At least give them the chance to check.”
“Fine. The truth is, I don’t have a choice.”
“You don’t need a choice – you need to trust them. That’s all. They’re good.”
“I know,” she replied with a note of resignation.
“My Lily, I hope you’ll be back to yourself quickly.”
“Look, I don’t feel bad. Just a bit weak and tired, that’s all.”
“Do you want to go home?” I smiled at her.
“Yes, but I can’t. I need to regain my strength.”
“Has anyone spoken to you about being discharged?” I thought that was what she was getting at.
“Not yet, but they know me. I won’t stay one day – no, not even one minute – longer than necessary.”
“At least take the blood you’re missing.” I looked at the bag, already more than half empty.
“I know. But if they don’t have anything more to do with me, and if my hemoglobin is fine, I’m out of here. I could be hometomorrow morning. I’ll even promise them to fast, so they can draw blood for their tests without problems.”
A nurse came in and replaced the blood bag with a saline infusion. Lily asked to go out to the balcony. I tried to help her up and push the IV pole, but she resisted.
“I’m so experienced at this,” she said, this time with full laughter. At least for now, she had accepted being a patient in the ward.
“I see Eilat,” she said as we stood embracing on the wide balcony of her room.
“Eilat???”
“Just kidding. I miss Eilat so much – the workshop, the students…”
“You’ll be there in a few days. I think this sudden drop in hemoglobin points to bleeding, not the underlying disease. But who am I to say?”
“It’s strange to say, but I really hope you’re right.”
We looked southwest. The sun was almost setting, and the colors in the sky made us forget where we were. Tears filled her eyes – and mine too.
The next evening, Lily was released, though only temporarily, since she had to return each morning fasting for tests until her final discharge. Thanks to the transfusions, her hemoglobin rose to 11 and stayed that way for three days in a row. She was discharged completely.
In her discharge letter, which they couldn’t prevent me from reading, it was noted that Lily had anemia, apparently from the underlying disease. The name of the disease was missing. At the end, the doctor recommended giving her 10 mg of hydrocortisone every two days. Exactly as had been written in her discharge letter three years earlier, just as she had taken before Judah arrived.
Despite the physicians thinking that the underlying disease hadcaused the anemia, Lily was not given the customary steroid dosage.
Nor did she tell the doctors that before her admission to the ward, she had only been taking 5 mg of cortisone every two days. And we never brought it up between us.
And what a wonder: immediately upon her discharge from the hospital, she asked to go gallery-hopping. My pleas that she rest, relax, that the galleries would not run away – were of no use. Lily was there exactly one hour after her release.
The next day, we went down to Eilat, back to the workshop, to her teaching, and to her usual activities. Once every two weeks, she flew to her studies at the College of Art and Design. Her condition stabilized.
Chapter 51
A Life Mask
About two weeks after Lily was discharged from the hospital, she returned to Eilat – and not alone. She brought with her a large, heavy can and asked me to help carry it to the studio.
“What’s in the can?” I asked.
