“I just want to go home,” I said.
The doctor shook his head. “You can’t go home until your pain subsides,” he said. “Maybe this is arthritis.”
“Why arthritis?” Tuvia asked.
“Why not?”
We left and followed the signs that pointed to the X-ray room. Tuvia wheeled me down an empty, echoing hall. It was only half-lit, and in the shadows the room numbers were faintly luminous.
The X-ray technician whistled. “This swelling shows that you’re really in pain.”
The ultra-sound man shook his head. “All I can say is that I don’t see a blood clot here.”
We wheeled back to the emergency room where a nurse put me into a bed. “The doctor told us you need to stay overnight, and see his supervisor tomorrow.”
More than anything, I wanted to pick up my bags and go home. My husband had inexplicably disappeared, so I lay there in silence, tears trickling down my nose.
My husband rushed over to my bed; his eyes glowed. “I called the Pittsburger Rebbe. He gave you a blessing that you should have a complete recovery.”
“Wow, that’s what you were doing? Calling the Rebbe?”
“Yes, and I got through right away, and the Rebbe immediately gave you a blessing.”
I was amazed. I hadn’t even thought of turning to the Rebbe; in the last hours I hadn’t thought of turning to G-d, either. The Rebbe’s blessing connected me past the pain to the True Source of any event. “Please, G-d,” I silently prayed, “May the Rebbe’s blessing give me a complete recovery.”
Early in the morning, a nurse came over and asked how I was doing. Suddenly I realized that the pain in my leg was much better. I sat up. “I want to try to walk now,” I told her. I walked a few steps.
The pain was almost gone, never to return.
“Tuvia,” I said. “Let’s go home.”
We never did find out what caused it.