Last night I lay in bed next to Stella watching the e-mails and comments come in from members of “Stella’s Army.” We were in the hospital and I was much relieved that the night staff did not try and throw me out of bed. I guess Israeli hospitals are different. When I asked someone if they were going to bring bedding and hospital pajamas for Stella, he pointed me in the direction of a closet and let me know that it is really self-service here (although they did not ask me to put in the IV.) On the other hand, I don’t know if I could have gotten away with crawling into the bed with Stella anywhere else, so all things considered, so far so good.

Around 2:00 AM, I considered getting up and writing a post. But I didn’t want to disturb Stella (not that she really needs sleep now!) Also, I was not sure exactly what I would write. So I just watched the e-mails and comments come in over my iPhone. And that’s when I realized what I wanted to write.

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On the seventh floor of Shaari Tzedek, as in any major hospital, is a room where cancer patients receiving chemo go for their treatments. Every day, it is filled with men and women who must sit while medicine that will make them feel horribly sick drips into their veins. Some come alone, while others are accompanied by those who love them. As the hours go by, they will feel sicker and sicker.

One cannot escape the understanding that for some in the room, the medicine will not be able to defeat the disease. That thought alone can make the room feel dark and oppressive. But incredibly, there are also many bright lights that shine in the midst of such darkness. Here are eight of them that I was fortunate enough to see:

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Yesterday we went to Shaare Zedek Hospital (where Stella will have the operation) for our pre-op tests and meetings. Throughout the morning, Stella was examined by the surgeon, anesthesiologist, surgical ward head nurse, and the hospital accountant (so we could have our bank account checked.) That’s a joke, although we did need to drop off a post-dated check equal to about 6,000 falafel in pita sandwiches.

Now let me explain something. Israel has a national health insurance system that is good. It’s not perfect ( and I don’t believe a national health insurance system CAN be perfect,) but I believe it is very, very good. It has paid for truckloads of drugs for us, scans, and examinations up the wazoo (but not of the wazoo because the cancer thankfully never spread there.) And even the surgery would have been paid for if we would be o.k. with a resident doing the operation (under supervision.)

That’s the catch. I am sure the surgical residents are very good. But with my wife’s life literally in someone’s hands, I don’t want “very good.” I want “the best.” After all, I’m the type of guy who is picky over what mechanic I let touch my bike. Shouldn’t I be at least as selective on who is going to be working on my wife?

I think so.

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There is only one known cure for stomach cancer. If the cancer is localized, then an operation in which the stomach is removed is performed.

On the other hand, if the cancer is determined to be inoperable, the cancer will spread throughout your system, even with aggressive chemotherapy. That is why gastric cancer is the second most lethal cancer in the world.

As far as I can tell, you have to fit into one of two categories to be eligible for this operation:

Either the cancer has to be caught relatively early, in Stage 1 or Stage 2. This is somewhat rare because the disease does not usually present symptoms until it has progressed.

Or you can be Stella.

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Dear Friends,

I started Crossing the Yarden long before cancer, and I intend to write it long after Stella has a complete recovery. So not every post will be about the Matsav. Of course, if you are wondering, Stella had a bit of a rough week from chemo but is now doing fine as we anticipate surgery on January 1.

Now then……

It had all the trappings of a classic cycling competition. Alberto Contador is the three time winner of the Tour de France, two time winner of the Tour of Italy (Giro), and one time winner of the Tour of Spain. I am the winner of a spring training race in Prospect Park, circa 1984 and five time participant in the Alyn Charity Ride (not a race — or so they have to tell me every year.) I am sure that Alberto has been nervously anticipating racing against me ever since Lance Armstrong retired.

Let me just say, I am a Chassid of Lance Armstrong and am in no way a fan of Alberto, who has dissed my hero on several occasions. But I will admit that Alberto is most likely the best cyclist in the world right now, and one of the best ever. I am extremely proud that he came to Israel with his whole team. Sure, Robert Kraft comes here a lot, but has he ever brought the entire New England Patriots team for a solid ten days of training? Nu?

Alberto rides for the Saxo Bank team, one of the top professional teams in the world. I am not exactly sure how it happened, but Saxo Bank decided to have their first training camp of the season here in Israel. While the other top teams are holding their camps in warm exotic places, Saxo Bank came to Israel and even spent time performing charity work.

When there are those in the world who shun Israel and refuse to travel here, Saxo Bank not only came but held a race through the Old City. Big props to the whole team. I am so impressed with them, that it will be very difficult for me to root against them in this year’s Tour (of course I must, because that’s what sports fans do. But still…..)

Last week I got an e-mail from Alyn saying they are looking for a group of riders to accompany Alberto, Mayor Nir Barkat, and the rest of the Saxo Bank team on a ride through the Old City Tuesday evening. As a cyclist, this was just too huge an opportunity to pass up. I figured I would ride alongside Alberto for a little while, tell him about riding in Israel, then let him eat my dust while staring at the back of my Livestrong helmet.

I drove to Talpiot, parked the car, and rode to the Jaffa Gate. My first sense that I had somehow missed something in the translation was when I saw the massive crowds behind police barricades leading up to the Old City. Then above the Jaffa Gate was a huge sign that said “Start of Bike Race.’ Hmm……

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