A Modern Day Biblical Tale

By Shana, Age 22

In honor of the ever-delightful holiday known as Yom Kippur, the participants of OTZMA were to travel to Jerusalem for a day of educational seminars, followed by free time to observe the Day of Atonement. However, G-d had it in his almighty plan to send only 40 of the 41 participants to the Holy City – one was to remain behind on her deathbed.
[Dramatic pause in narrative]
Thursday night, the 28th of September, was much like any other night at the merkaz klitah – everyone played card games and beer pong before heading out to a skanky dance bar and finally passing out around 4:30. For some reason, G-d especially did not approve of this treacherous behavior and needed to teach someone a lesson.
G-d said to Shana, “You’ve sinned too much this year, now it’s time for you to pay – I’m going to make you wish you had never even seen a bottle of Keglevich!”
Shana replied, “Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s what Yom Kippur is for.”
G-d thrust his bulging fist in the air and cried out, “That’s what you think!”
So G-d cast down from the Heavens the first few plagues: Blood (speaks for itself), Darkness (severe, throbbing headache thus confinement to a dark room), and, um, Frogs. Shana received these plagues more gracefully than G-d had planned, by retreating to her bedroom and sleeping for roughly 48 hours. Due to the nature of her mysterious sleeping/headache-y illness, her program directors ordered her to seek the advice of an Israeli doctor, so she called her medical insurance company to find out where the nearest clinic might be. However, she was told that because it was Shabbat, no clinics were open but would she be willing to receive a house call from a doctor instead? Why, yes. Dr. HouseCall told our heroine, after a 3-minute “examination,” that she was dehydrated, to which Shana argued that she had already consumed four liters of water so it must be something more glamorous than merely dehydration, but the doctor replied that she should simply drink more. Shana shook her fist and called the doctor an idiot behind her back, hoping that might teach her how to practice medicine.
On the third day, Shana outsmarted the Almighty One and hightailed it out of Be’er Sheva to the luxurious home of her mother’s friend, a medical mastermind with a specialization in infectious disease asskicking. At the news of this, G-d waved His arm over the Middle East and cast down the next plague, Boils, which manifested all over her arms, legs, and torso. But she did not cry or scratch at them, for she barely even noticed their existence until she was eating dinner with her dovish hosts and realized that there was something new amongst her many freckles. But still nobody knew what was causing this inexplicable, grotesque disease, and all Shana wanted to do was sleep another day away.
G-d said to Shana, “Are you ready to atone for your sins yet, you wretched miscreant?”
Shana answered, “Well I was ready, but then you made me sleep through Yom Kippur!”
So G-d let out a thunderous roar and cast down on her another plague, Severely High Fever. The thermometer read 40 degrees Celsius but that translated to 104 in American degrees, so Shana knew G-d meant business. She was all ready to give herself up and start praying that G-d would spare the firstborn son’s life, when she suddenly had a miracle. On the fifth day, the medicine man discovered a clue that revealed what might be causing her baffling ailment – Shana worked at an animal shelter, where there are dogs, and therefore ticks. She had apparently contracted Mediterranean Spotted Fever, which is spread by tick bites in the Israeli desert region. (G-d bellowed with glee at the news that his Locusts plague had done its job.) He gave Shana a little orange pill and told her to swallow it with two glasses of water, and she should be cured within the next several days.
But G-d did not give up just because our protagonist was on antibiotics – he proceeded to thrust plagues of Muscle Soreness, Fatigue, and General Dizziness in Shana’s direction, and she continued to seek refuge in her dark room until the better part of six days had been slept away. On the seventh day, G-d finally rested, the fever broke, the headache cleared, and Shana was able to return to her friends at the absorption center.
However, the plagues of critically sore muscles and boils lingered, and she continued to stumble around like a bow-legged polio victim with the Chicken Pox, much to the amusement of anyone who happened to catch a glimpse of her miserable appearance.
The End