The Care and Feeding of Your Heart Repair.

Recap: Hubster has a stent placed in his 99% blocked artery.

This tour of hospitals is about over. Today is moving day. We get to go home. I wonder if Trip Adviser has a section for "favorite vacation spots - hospitals".
Estimated departure time is between 11 and noon depending on when Dr. Stentnballoon comes to give his parting remarks.
I miss his visit, but Hubster is given the green light. Now we wait for the nurse to come with the "care and feeding of your new stent" information.
Medicine. My never touch the stuff man will now be a card carrying pill popper. Five of them. One, with a warning by everyone associated with this procedure that he has come in contact with - "you MUST take this EVERY DAY for a year. EVERY DAY. NO MISSED DOSES, or you may... drumroll... DIE." Okay, this one is pretty important. We won't even discuss all the side effects that could happen. If you take this medication you may die. If you don't take this medication, you may die. Its comforting to know Hubster and I are cared for by the Creator of the Universe and knows the beginning from the end. Our days are written in His book.
Dressed and ready to go, except for the IV tubes that need to come out at the last minute. We wait. His nurse comes in with a teaser. "Give me about 15 minutes." We start the countdown. Finally she comes in, takes the remaining remnants of Hotel Hospital Down Town out of Hubs arms and then goes through the rules of the new game. You can do this. You can't do that.
While she finishes up, I get the car and wait for my man. I have his get well balloon. Time to go home.
So, to wrap this up - we went out on Thursday for dinner. What we got was dinner and entertainment.
Next time, I think I'll cook dinner at home. Oh yeah, dinners? Low fat, low sodium, low calories, low carbs. There goes Chinese food anyway.

Balloons and Stents

Recap: Hubster had his heart catherterization and a bit of a scare.
Sleep and hospitals are like oil and water. Thankfully, they don't cram a sleeping pill down your throat anymore.
Back to fasting. No food - no water - except for the tiny sip to slide a handful of meds down the gullet.

Today's the day for the heart stent procedure. Hubster's got a reputation. Every new doctor and nurse  come in, pat him on the shoulder and with a wink of the eye say, "so we heard about your incident last night." He's in a cardiac care unit for goodness sake. This type of thing doesn't happen all the time? Not by the way the floor chatter is going. We decide they must have needed a little excitement to curtail the boredom.
I'm there for morning rounds. Doctor Stentnballoon comes in to give Hubster the lowdown on THE PROCEDURE. It's not done at Hotel Hospital Number One. Something about the law requiring that there needs to be a full cardiac surgical team available. HHN1 does not have one, but another hospital down town does. HHN1 contracts with Hotel Hospital Down Town. Thus - another transport via ambulance. But this time we get to stay there.
We get the procedure game plan. A tiny incision in the groin through the artery, up to the heart. Another wire with a little balloon is inserted, expanded and then a tiny mesh reinforcement is inserted. The plaque is smooshed to the walls of the artery allowing the blood to flow freely again. Balloon is removed. Badabing badabang. It will take between one to three hours depending on how his heart cooperates. He'll be sent to his happy place so he won't feel anything, but only long enough for the procedure to be completed.
The transport comes, all business guys, so no entertainment on the ride over.
Hubster's mom and sister - who surprise us with their visit since they came from a town 3 hours away, stay with me in the waiting room. We have time for a visit to the cafeteria for snacks and the gift shop for a get well balloon. The wait doesn't seem long before the nurse team that took him in arrive. "Hugs and kisses before we take him to his room. Doctor will be out in a minute to give you the update. He did well." And he did. He looks good. He's awake like he was when they wheeled him in.
Doctor Stentnballoon comes out smiling with two glossy pictures - suitable for framing. Before and after, and explains what he did. The artery was 99% blocked. The first small stent slides in and up beyond the plaque. Another one is put in and does its job. All is well. It only took forty minutes start to finish.
Hubster is now back in his room - a two bed, but we get it all to ourselves. He has to lay still for at least two hours so he won't bleed. That would be no good. No good at all. He's a model patient and obeys orders.
His mom and sister leave. I eat mac and cheese and a salad from the cafeteria and watch him enjoy his second meal - pot roast and potatoes.
We're both tired and ready to settle in. He's doing well and I know I can leave for an early evening at home. We're on the homestretch now.
Conclusion: The Care and Feeding of Your Heart Repair. 

Another Night, Another Interruption. Or, What's So Special About Sleep Anyway?

Recap: Hubster had a heart attack and a heart catherterization.

Ambulances have no shocks on their vehicle.

Time for dinner - real food! First a roast beef sandwich, and then sliced roast beef and mashed potatoes. The menu tag that comes on the tray said meatless spaghetti, salad and other heart healthy food. Someone slipped him the good stuff (or bad which ever way you look at it).
Now it was time to settle in for the evening. Procedure over, daughter there to visit, son and friend of Hubster next in line to come.
And then...

Hub decided to shake things up a bit.
 He crashed. Like almost on the floor. Like - call in the crash cart, crash.
 He'd gotten up and was sitting in a chair when the nurse came in alarmed. Really alarmed. His heart rate was monitored at the nurses station and  registered a big drop. He said he was lightheaded and before you know it began to slowly slump head first toward the floor. The nurse barked for our daughter and I to leave. Being the devoted wife who was darn scared at this point, said,  "I wanted to stay."
 "No, you need to leave." Alarmed Nurse said.
"I'm his wife." I reminded her.
 "We need the room to work." She glared at me. Good enough. Daughter and I left to stand outside the door, hands clasped, praying. And then doctors and nurses from all over the hospital began running in. The crash cart arrived. Lots of yelling his name. Lots of hospital noises. Lots of praying on our part.
Finally, a nurse or two walked out of the room. Their faces looked relieved. "Is he stabilizing?" I asked.
 "Yes."
Deep breath and thank G~ds.
Hubster only remembers feeling lightheaded, sitting in a wheelchair and then lying flat on the bed with an oxygen mask, people looking down at him and hooked up to his IV again with a full line of fluids pumping into his vein. Later we found the paddle pads on his chest. They were prepared to zap him if necessary.
The ER doctor, with sympathy in his voice, told us that it was a very benign thing that happened. His Visceral nerve acted up and caused him to faint. It can happen to anyone. But because of all the meds and such, Hubs heart rate dropped to 20 and his BP to 40. The dude almost lined out on us. Benign? I'd hate to have seen something sinister!
Hub's face began to change from gray to normal again and except for feeling pretty sheepish for all the drama, his vitals returned to where they were before the "incident", and he was back to his take it all in stride self. Our son and our friends came to visit. We all had a good laugh and life returned to normal...for a hospital.
Next time: Balloons and Stents.

Hospital Tours

To recap - the Hubster is in the hospital. Diagnosis - heart attack.
No food for you.
Thursday Chinese dinner was becoming a fleeting memory, but a necessary one. He would have to rely on memories of food and water because he was now in fast mode.
 He had IVs in both arms and various poke marks on the back of his hands from blood draws. He probably wouldn't have wanted to drink - leaking issues, don't you know.
Next step - a heart catherterization. His father had one back in the 80s. It was painful.
But, this was the way to see what was going on with his heart.
The hospital he was at was booked up for the procedure and they wanted it done sooner rather than later, so he'd be transported via ambulance to a hospital in another city - about 30 minutes away.
Oh boy, an ambulance ride!
The EMT team came in, made us all laugh with their banter, strapped him in and off he went. I followed by car.
Then I waited. That's hard. The waiting room was cold, no one answered the phone to the nurses station, so I would know what was happening. Did they take him in already? Was he waiting in the bay for his turn ? I pulled out my computer and worked on a project. No use trying to make something happen. I waited. And then, I tried the phone one more time. Sorry, but I'm not a good waiter when I don't have information to go on. The nurse, in a cheery voice told me to come on back. He was done with the procedure. I knew he would have a small amount of sedation, so I expected him to be out of it. But there he was, like nothing had happened, except two nurses were busy around him checking monitors and his wrist. This is where they snaked a thin wire up the artery, injected contrast dye and then watched where it went within the various arteries and veins in his heart.
He was having a good time chatting up the nurses. He mentioned that when they were ready to start the procedure, the tune that was playing over the sound system was, "Highway to Hell." The nurse, with a laugh, apologized and said it was a radio station - no control over the play list. The party was in the recovery bay. The doctor came in, said everything went as planned, a major artery was around 90-95% blocked and the next step would be to have a stent placed in the artery.
After everything checked out, his transport was called for the trip back to the first hospital. When they arrived, the party continued. The two EMT gals (young and cute), two nurses, myself and Hubster who was sitting on the side of the bed spent, oh, around twenty minutes chatting and laughing - like we'd met friends at a mall.
"Well, you ready to head back?" says one of the EMTs.
"Sure, why not, I'm not dressed for a night out on the town."
Back to Hotel Hospital Number One.
Next: Another Night, Another Interruption. Or, What's So Special About Sleep Anyway?

Have a Heart

Last Thursday the Hubster and I went to our favorite little dive for Chinese food. On the way home, the conversation went like this:
Hub - "So, what are your plans tonight."
Me - "Nothing. I'm gonna kick off my shoes and relax."
Hub - "What would you think about spending some time at ER?"
Okay, this is serious. He'd mentioned the previous Friday that his lungs ached and he figured it was a new form of heartburn. He'd just downed a few chicken hotdogs on bread for a snack. The following week he'd experienced a bit of the same thing off and on. Now on our way home, he said it was getting uncomfortable. He figured he'd dash in, get some antacid pills and be on his way.
Since the hospital is about a quarter mile from where we live, he had me drop him off while I drove home with the leftovers for the fridge. By the time I came back and parked - maybe around 15 minutes, he was already in a room with blood drawn for testing. He's been in ER twice before in the course of 5 years with pains in his chest, but this time he got the red carpet treatment. Maybe they looked at his face and knew this was serious. And this is the first time they did the blood test. Before, he had the standard EKG, and lots of questions. The last time, they kept him overnight for observation and a stress test and pronounced him healthy.
The blood test came back positive for a cardiac enzyme that says heart distress.
He was having a heart attack.
I made the mistake of asking the ER doctor if it was a minor heart attack. Bless his heart, he came around the bed, leaned over towards me and with his very serious doctor voice said, "ma'am, there is no such thing as a minor heart attack." He went on to say that they come in two styles, one can be detected by the external tests, stress, EKG - the ones that monitor the rhythims of the heart. The other, they call the silent ones. The heart looks normal on paper, beats normal and strong, but the arteries are not getting the blood they need. He said these are the deadly ones.
So, we figured that the other 2 times we went to the ER, Hubster's heart was telling him, "hey we have issues here - just giving you the heads-up." But they didn't test his blood for the enzyme.
By midnight, he was shipped to telemetry for a possible heart catheterization.
I left around 2:30AM and returned at 7:30AM to see what the new day held.
Next time - Hospital Tours.

Fortune Telling

 

I recently submitted a book manuscript to a publisher. Now I wait. Oh, how I hate to wait.
So, I'm sitting in my place of meditation - the bathtub and I begin to think and pray. 
"Lord, I'd sure like to know if my book will be accepted."
Now, if I were writing this for a scene, it would go something like this:
"Yes, my daughter. Your book will be accepted. They will love it and it will launch you into a life of financial security."
I love it when G~d is a fortune teller. Makes life so much easier. And, of course, He never gives bad news, unless it comes from someone else.
"No, my daughter, your book is being used as the morning joke of the day and it will plunge you into deep depression when they tell you to keep your day job."

Anyone remember Johnny Carson's Amazing Carnac? He'd have a stack of envelopes, lay one on the side of his head, tear the envelope open, blow into it, state the answer that came to his mind and then read the question written on the card inside.

Back to my bathtub meditations.
"L~rd, I'd love it if You'd tell me if my book will be accepted." I wait.
"Loose meat sandwiches."
"Loose meat sandwiches?" Oh, yeah, that's what I'm making for dinner tonight.
I wait some more.
"The water just went off in the backyard."
Now, I'm sure I could come up with something spiritual but -
Lets face it, someone who's ADD has no business trying the "word from the L~rd" approach.

All this falderah and fiddle dee dee to say, I think we need to be so careful about accepting everything that comes out of our heads or mouths when we pray. 
There are times when I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that G~d has spoken to me. And it usually comes in sets. I read a scripture, then hear a sound bite, or someone will tell me something that confirms. It rarely comes alone. And if someone tells me something about my future, you best better believe I will wait for a confirmation.
Usually, when I ask for an answer about my future, or my life I get:

Trust in ADONAI with all your heart; do not rely on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him; then he will level your paths. Proverbs 3:5-6 (CJB)

or

Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze on what lies in front of you.  Level the path for your feet, let all your ways be properly prepared; then deviate neither right nor left; and keep your foot far from evil.  Proverbs 4:25-27 (CJB)

Radical

Radical!

a : very different from the usual or traditional : extreme

b : favoring extreme changes in existing views, habits, conditions, or institutions

c : associated with political views, practices, and policies of extreme change

d : advocating extreme measures to retain or restore a political state of affairs radical

right>

4

slang : excellent, cool 

~Merriam Webster~

Every generation or movement has a buzzword, it seems - especially when it comes to Christianese - a new way to approach G~d, a new direction that the church must go in to reach the unsaved, or unchurched, or people in general for that matter. 

Back in the 70s it was cool to be a "Jesus Freak", one who was "sold out" which turned into "souled out".

Now its "radical". We must all be RADICAL for G~d.

But to be honest, the word has lost its luster. Maybe the first person who came up with being a "radical Believer" had a revelation. But now, as with any "movement", it becomes a buzzword rather than a genuine experience. If you're not radical, you must not be hearing from G~d. If you don't have a radical walk with G~d, you need to find out what you're doing wrong. As usual, a word becomes a weapon. "My revelation is better than your revelation."

Here's were I pull out my "I'm getting too old for that" card. And I hated it when my elders use to say that to me.

But here goes.

 

 I remember back in the 70s when I got caught up in all the buzzwords. I worked and prayed and cried and felt oh so guilty when I was told I just needed to work and pray and cry a little more. I spent my time seeking out the people and churches and movements that had a new revelation. Places and people who were "on fire for G~d".

Where are those movements and churches and people now? Where am I now?

A precious few made a big difference and are in the history books. But most who tried so hard to follow the buzzwords of the day found that words mean nothing, movements come and go and they are now living day to day fulfilling a steady, uneventful life doing exactly what they are suppose to do - loving G~d and each other without the fireworks, and fanfare.

I no longer feel guilty when I'm told I have to have a radical life and a radical experience with G~d. I've lived long enough with G~d to know He doesn't require extreme. I don't have to be just like John the Immerser, or Elijah, or Moses. What He asks from me is a relationship that is steady, consistent and stable. One that is not built on emotion and pyrotechnics and is over the edge. Instead He wants me to love and honor my husband, teach and train my grandchildren in His ways, take care of those He puts in my path, pass along smiles to people I see on the street or at SaveMart. 

Yes, there are a few that are called to do the "radical" things, but most of us are called to be the moderates and tempered.

Isaiah 30:15 (CJB) " For this is what Adonai ELOHIM, the Holy One of Isra'el, says: "Returning and resting is what will save you; calmness and confidence will make you strong.."

The Adventure of a Lifetime

One week! One full, busy, amazing week.
We went to the HaCarmel shuk and rubbed shoulders - really - with lots and lots of people.
I learned new words like todah (thank you) and bavakasha (please; you're welcome), slicha (excuse me) and kama ze (how much).
We saw the Mediterranean Sea and the Sea of Galilee.We enjoyed a fish dinner in En Gev, fresh fruit shakes in Tel Aviv, and McDonald's on Ben Yehuda Street.
 We prayed at the stone retaining wall of the Temple and I sat on a lion statue over 2000 years old.
We walked and walked in Tel Aviv (well, I sat in Nayna's purse most of the time) and we drove through the Jezreel Valley.
And now it's time to pack up and go back to America.

We wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to go through security and passport control at the airport, so we left our hotel by taxi at 9:30 pm.
After smooth sailing through security questions and luggage check, passport control and carryon security we had more than enough time before our plane left. With shekels to spend, we ate a late dinner and did some last minute shopping.

But now what do we do? It was past our bedtimes and we were all getting sleepy.

Finally we were able to board the plane and settle in for our 15 and a half hour flight to Los Angeles.
Nayna tried several times to upgrade us to business class or at least a bulkhead seat where Papa and Nayna could stretch out their legs, but the plane was full and no one canceled their ticket.
I'll have to admit, while Papa watched movies and snoozed and Nayna listened to a recorded book and took cat naps, I snuggled into my cozy purse bed and did the bear thing - hibernation. What a wonderful gift God gave us bears. When I woke up, we were on the ground.

Jet lag again!
Our bodies still think it's 10 at night, but the clock says it's 8 in the morning. Time for breakfast.
After waiting for about a half hour for a shuttle, we were driven to our next terminal on the other side of the big airport.
By 11 am we were in the air again for our short flight home.

 Papa couldn't keep his eyes open. Nayna took a 15 minute power nap and then snapped pictures of the patchwork scenery.

Yay! We made it home safe and sound.
I was welcomed with open arms.

What an adventure! 

Shabbat Shalom from Israel

Shabbat shalom!
This is how we great each other when the sun goes down on Friday. We wish each other not only peace, but well being. We want everything in their life to be good.

We ate dinner at the hotel and had a special meal.

 There were all kinds of salads, and chicken soup and gefilte fish (Papa calls it fish spam). He passes it up. Nayna explains that it tastes so much better when its fresh made instead out of a jar. Papa just smiles and says, "no thank you." Instead, he filled his plate with beef brisket and chicken, plus potatoes, couscous and vegetables. And just when I thought I couldn't eat another bite, I spied the dessert table. Okay, maybe a little cake and colorful gelatin and fruit.
An attendant sees that Nayna and Papa are taking pictures of each other and offers to take one of them both. Shabbat shalom from Israel.

Waddle, waddle waddle.
We all went back to the hotel room to rest from our busy, busy week.

Saturday was our last full day in Israel. The week went far too fast.
Our plane wasn't scheduled to leave Ben Gurion Airport until 1:30 Sunday morning so we booked our hotel stay for Sunday. That way we wouldn't have to wander the streets of Tel Aviv with all our luggage in tow on Saturday.
One more breakfast to fill our tummies. But it was different. There were no hot scrambled eggs and potatoes, no pancakes or waffles or omelets. And no fresh squeezed orange juice. Everything had been prepared on Friday. It was okay, though, we still had plenty of good salads and hard boiled eggs, cold cereal and breads and cheeses to enjoy. We walked away full and satisfied.
What to do when everything is closed? We took a long walk through Independence Park to the Promenade.

 The path meanders next to the Mediterranean Sea all the way to Jaffa.
 But again, it was a very warm morning and the busy week caught up with Nayna and Papa. They were tired and ready to wander up the path a little ways and then find a bench to people watch.

And we weren't disappointed. So many different people to watch - all shapes and sizes and ages.

On the way back to the hotel, Nayna snapped a few more pictures.


Someone had created a whole apartment in an area where a concrete apartment building had been.

This was our hotel - The Grand Beach.

Remember that funny apartment Nayna took a picture of when we walked to get our rental car on Wednesday? she took this picture from the top floor of our hotel, by the pool, which was a very popular place to be on a Shabbat afternoon.

Before we entered our room, Nayna took a picture of this mezuzah on the doorpost. Actually that's what it means in Hebrew.
There is a small parchment rolled up inside a mezuzah (which, by the way don't all look like this one. There are all kinds). On the paper is written the Shema - Deuteronomy 6:4-9 and the V'ahavta - Deuteronomy 11:13-21. God told His people to write these words on the doorposts of their houses and on their gates. Every Jewish person in Israel has a mezuzah on his or her doorframe.
 Nayna and Papa have one at their house too.

Next blog - the trip back to America.

People, People Everywhere

Friday in Israel.
Unlike where I live in America, Friday and Saturday are different here. Friday is preparation day because on Saturday - Shabbat or Sabbath, most things close down and people take a day of rest.
Nayna and Papa had shopping to do and knew that by four in the afternoon, stores would close and the buses and sheruts wouldn't be available.
Back to the Hacarmel shuk to find treasures. A sherut ride up Ben Yehuda Street to Allenby Street and we were there.
Wow! I thought it was crowded on Monday, but now EVERYBODY was out shopping. Here's a picture from when Nayna was there several years before. She said not as many people were there then as they were this time.

 The long narrow street was wall to wall people on a mission. People who live in Tel Aviv went to buy food for their Shabbat tables. Tourists were there to find one more good deal before everything closed up. I took one look at it all and burrowed myself into Nayna's purse only to take an occasional peek. And - besides it being a warm morning anyway, all those extra bodies made for discomfort when wearing a fur coat.
Papa and Nayna made their purchases in the main shuk area and then made a mad dash down a side street and out to the open area. On Fridays, people bring their homemade things to sell and set up tables along the street. There were jewelry and toys, paintings and wall hangings, wind chimes and clothing. Anything you could ever want.

After finding our gifts, and one more yummy fruit shake we walked back down Allenby and caught a sherut for Frishman Street - one more time. Nayna had a hankering for a shawarma and knew a place on Ben Yehuda street near the supermarket.

I found out, a shawarma is thinly shaved lamb or turkey meat stuffed into a pita with Israeli salad, sauces and fries piled on top. Okay, my mouth was ready for this treat. But it was closed! As in not there anymore. And so, after a stop in the market for some packaged spices and Bugles chips, we decided to walk to our hotel and find another shawarma place on the way. We walked, and walked, and walked. No shawarma. We were hot and tired and we walked, and walked and walked some more. And then we were at our hotel. Oh bother.
Time for a nap!
More about Shabbat in my next blog.

Kotel, Western Wall or Wailing Wall?

Kotel, Western Wall, Wailing Wall . I've heard all three used. I'm confused. Which one is it?
Nayna explained it to me.
Kotel means wall in Hebrew. Jewish people use this word, or they'll sometimes say Western Wall because its the retaining wall on the Western side closest to the Temple Mount. Non Jewish people sometimes call it the Wailing Wall because of two reasons. They hear people crying there as they pray and it sounds like wailing. Another is because a long time ago, Jews could only go to their holy place - the Temple area once a year and they would cry and wail because of the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE.

Did you know that I stood on Mount Moriah? That's where God told Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac. And that's where the Temple stood - on this very mountain.

 There is a short divider between the men's and women's section. We walked up to the Wall - women's side and found a place to pray. Nayna says that she feels God's presence at the Kotel. People all around us were praying too - I could hear their whispers. I felt like I was in a holy place.
I noticed lots of small pieces of paper tucked into every nook and cranny around the stones. I found out that people write prayers on these pieces of paper. I got tears in my eyes when I realized so many people were asking God for help. I'm glad He's big enough to respond to every one of these prayers as well as the ones spoken by everyone at the Wall.

We still had time before we needed to meet Papa in the Plaza so we found an empty, white plastic chair and sat by the wall. I could hear singing and men's voices praying on the other side of the divider. It was much louder on their side.

I looked up and admired the stones in the wall. They were made of limestone and they were huge! Little birds and pigeons swooped and soared around bushes growing out of the cracks between the stones.

It was time to leave. I was sad because I could have stayed near the Kotel for a long time. It was so peaceful as we sat in the shade.

We met up with Papa and began our short walk out to meet our taxi driver.
There were so many IDF (Israeli Defense Force) soldiers in the Plaza and an area nearby was set up with a stage and big white screen. I felt very safe with so many young men and women in uniform. I found out later that they were being commissioned for duty in the Golan Heights. We prayed for their safety as we were leaving.

 Nayna pointed out this section on the Southern end of the Kotel It's called Robinson's Arch and was a stairway from the Old City streets up to the Temple. Here's a picture from www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org
that shows what it might have looked like.

 This is the last picture Nayna took at the Kotel - a permanent hanukkiah next to Israel's flag. Do you know the difference between a hanukkiah and a menorah?
Join me next time when we continue our journey back to Tel Aviv and our Friday escapades.

History At Our Fingertips

The Israel Museum! What an amazing place. It was hard to wrap my mind around it all. I've seen movies with all kinds of things. Nayna calls them Hollywood props and they're  made in a studio by artists. But this is the real deal. They were dug out of the ground by people called archeologists who look for old things. 

These sarcophagus - stone coffins are from Egypt and date back over 5000 years.

Funny looking dolls aren't they? But they aren't dolls at all. They are gods. People prayed to these things expecting answers. About the size of an adult hand, they could be carried around. I'm sure glad my God is bigger then that and isn't made out of clay or stone.

When Nayna saw this she laughed. It's about the size of a dessert plate and around 8 inches tall. She said it must have been the first latte cup. Did they have Starbucks or Aroma back then??

These churns were found in Beersheva and Golan 5 to 6 thousand years ago. They were rocked back and forth to make butter from milk. So I wonder if they ate bread with butter and honey?

We kept going from room to room and each one was filled with more treasures. 

This room had lots of glass. Beautiful glass of all shapes, sizes and colors. This was one of Nayna's favorite rooms.

There were displays of jewelry. 

This jewelry was found in the tomb of a young woman from Jerusalem in the mid 2nd century . It's thought she must have been married to a Roman soldier because all the jewelry was imported from other places.

I found this lion in the Greek room. They all think I'm pretty cool huh?

 The helmet was worn by a Roman soldier. It looks so uncomfortable to me. But that's what kept him safe.

This was reconstructed from a synagogue. Isn't it beautiful? Even back then, they made their buildings very fancy.

This doesn't even begin to show you what we saw. There was so much more.
We saw that everything would close in an hour so we made our way back through the maze of rooms.
The last exhibit we went to was Herod the Great. Its only at the museum until January 2014 and they had people guarding everything. Nayna wanted to take pictures, but she was told no.
I can tell you about it though.
We saw his marble bathtub and a huge beautiful basin as well as part of his bathhouse, and things from his palaces - plates, bowls, pitchers, coins with pictures of Cleopatra and Marc Antony, and the big display held pieces of his shrine and sarcophagus.
Nayna found a picture of it online so you could see it.

Next we're going to the Kotel - the Western Wall in the Old City of Jerusalem.