Wetsuit - gate

Hello loyal readers.

Back from Australia and navigating the 8-hour time difference with more difficulty than expected. Not much has changed here in Israel, except my attitude. As long as this government remains in power, I have little hope for change.

I came back to a slew of scans and doctors’ appointments in an effort to get it all over with. I heard what I expected to hear: there is no treatment, my cancer is spreading and basically “live your life.” This is a relief for me. I did not want to be bamboozled into treatment of little known value.

There are no instructions for living a life with an expiration date stamped in bold. Should I still bother with sunscreen? Schedule mammograms and colonoscopies? Is it worth buying a wetsuit for just a handful of swims? These questions swirl in the quiet moments.

Tranquility and independence at the segregated beach

At the religious women’s beach, I find an unexpected vibrancy. They are clothed from head to toe, yet their allure outshines any bikini-clad hipster lounging at the main beach. Mystery leaves room for imagination to wander. They nibble on radishes with a playful reverence: “The radish must come before the bread!” In the water, they shed their responsibilities—no work, laundry piles or simmering pots to think about. Their joy radiates, pure and unfiltered.

It was these women who introduced me to the idea of a wetsuit. The practicality resonated: cold water, despite all the benefits I preach about, has always kept me on the shore. They shared tips and tales—the struggle of zipping it up, and the dizziness and nausea they felt at first. It seemed like a rite of passage, like an invitation to stop hesitating and plunge in.

I keep thinking about Dustin Hoffman in the 1967 movie The Graduate. I have not updated my cinematic references in years. This one remains a quintessential milestone for me, a timeless classic.

The Graduate, 1967, Benjamin played by Dustin Hoffman

Benjamin receives a full scuba suit as a graduation gift from his parents. In The Graduate, Ben is compelled to don the scuba suit and parade it in front of his parents’ friends, a spectacle that leaves him utterly miserable. The forced display highlights just how out of sync the gift is for his true self.

What I intended to be a thoughtful gift - an offering to myself- instead became entangled in similar layers of emotional baggage and unspoken messages. It was a set-up - far too grand a gesture, laden with more significance than I was prepared for.

After spending over 930 NIS ($250) for all the gear, I got home and started to think. Who am I kidding? I am not a regular person. How much will I wear this? Is it just that part of me that sees something and must have it now? Like those boots?

The next day, in tears, I returned everything to the store.

The question is how to live life after that “we have done all we can do” discussion. My desire to buy a little cottage in Italy is now a dream for others to pursue.

My partner, ever the embodiment of optimism, gently urges me not to be too hard on myself. There are times when I feel completely drained, overwhelmed by the weight of it all.

Yet he reminds me that I still write, work, walk on the beach, watch football and I am good in bed.

There were times during this illness when I did none of those things.

At this point I will take it, and call it a win.

Have a winning week,

Dr. Anna 🎗️🌸