This story reflects life over a hundred years ago and is
based on facts and real people, a Bikur Cholim society where
men tended male patients and women -- female -- in their
homes. There was one exceptional woman called Mamke
mentioned in several sources, and Batya, in others. There
was a male nurse, R' Yona, a Greek doctor and a London-based
missionary hospital, whose services were rejected by
most.
The times that heralded a need for a Jewish
hospital...
PART I
The night was cold and the wind blew fiercely. A kerosene
lamp stood on the table, its rays casting deep shadows in
all corners. A small cooking primus stood on a crude table
in one corner and on it, a boiling kettle released some hot
steam into the cold room, creating an atmosphere that was
warm and cozy. Outside, the wind continued to shriek.
"Where is Ima?" a little boy asked sleepily, his eyes half
closed. His older sister, Sheina Rochel, who sat by the
table mending socks with nimble fingers, answered in a
hushed voice, "She will surely come home soon. She went over
to a neighbor who is sick. Go back to sleep, Yankel." She
got up to tuck the warm blanket around him and pulled a
curtain around his bed to block out the light. Soon Yankel
was fast asleep.
R' Zalman, studying his gemora at the other end of
the wooden table, smiled a little, looked up and noted, "Ima
is very late tonight."
"She was called by the Bikur Cholim committee. She'll stay
by the neighbor as long as she is needed."
"Well, that woman must be very ill..." And indeed she was,
because it was late evening before Devoira returned home,
bringing in a blast of freezing wet wind and some snowflakes
into the cozy room. Father and daughter looked up as she
entered.
"How is your patient?" asked R' Zalman. "Why did it take so
long this time?"
"It's the Greenbaums who just came recently from Europe with
their family. The mother is very ill. She has a raging fever
and doesn't stop coughing. She also has a pain in her back
which sounds like a case of pneumonia to me. I spooned her
down some hot milk with honey and made her a steam tent to
ease her breathing but nothing seems to help. She is a very
sick woman. I promised to fetch the Greek doctor."
"The Greek doctor? On a stormy night like this? He surely
won't come. Besides, who's going to pay for the house call?
He's very expensive as it is, and for such a visit, he'll
surely ask for double or triple his usual fee." The room was
quiet for a while. "He lives so far... near Jaffa gate."
"She needs help. She has no one here. I can't sit here in my
warm home and let her suffer. What if cholila, the
family is left orphaned? I would feel as if I were to
blame..."
"Why not call Reb Yona the felsher (male nurse)? He
lives nearby and he can treat her very well."
"Reb Yona? Why, he would probably do the very things I did,
which did not bring any relief. He may put some mustard
packs on her back to draw out the fever, but in her case, it
won't be enough. She needs some strong medication before it
is too late! And only the Greek doctor can administer that.
Or perhaps we should go to the Mission Hospital..." she
added weakly.
"To the Mission Hospital?" her husband jumped up in alarm.
"Don't dare consider it!"
"Don't worry. I'm going to the Greek doctor. I'll borrow the
money to pay him and I can earn it back by mending socks."
She looked around the room and added, "Worse comes to worst,
I still have some things I can pawn or sell. I can't just
sit idly by and see this poor family so helpless. I must do
whatever I can." She wrapped a dry shawl around her head and
shoulders and was about to leave again.
"Take the shielded lantern with you. It's dark and snowing.
It will light the way so that you don't slip in the mud,"
said R' Zalman. "Meanwhile, I'll go and call Reb Yona. Let's
see what he can do for her, after all."
Devoira walked over to the bed of her sleeping son. "May
Hashem watch over you, yingele." She kissed his
forehead tenderly and flashed a tired smile at her daughter.
"Take care of him, ziesie. Good night. I don't know
when I'll be back, but go to sleep yourself." She walked out
of the house holding a lantern, specially shielded against
stormy weather.
A gust of wind attacked the flame and almost extinguished
it, but the shield protected the flicker and the small light
threw pale rays on the ground, enabling Devoira to avoid the
puddles on the road. This snow won't stick, she
thought to herself with relief. Too many roofs were not
built for snow and the red tiles did not always stand up to
the pressure. The wind blew fiercely, blinding her, but she
walked on until she reached the doctor's home. She knocked
loudly and when he finally answered the door, begged and
wept, promising to pay whatever he asked so long as he came
with her. He finally agreed and it was a little before
midnight by the time they reached Mrs. Greenbaum's
sickbed.
They found R' Yona administering the mustard packs, but the
woman's breathing was still belabored. The doctor gave her
some strong medication and by the following day, the patient
was able to get down some nourishing chicken soup brought
over by another neighbor, also a member of the Bikur Cholim
society.
This time, the patient recovered.
In those times, however, it was an exception. Many people
succumbed to the damp Jerusalem winters and came down with
pneumonia, the flu and other illnesses -- and didn't make
it...
These were the times before Shaarei Zedek existed.
[In the second, final part of this piece, we will view the
behind-the- scenes beginning of Shaarei Zedek Hospital, in
1873. Next week...]
