Alan Abrams | New York University (original) (raw)

A hero four times a day -- not a transplant story by Alan Abrams

Chapter 2-Tip of iceberg: how I slowly, and then suddenly, got sick in a world without spiritual ... more Chapter 2-Tip of iceberg: how I slowly, and then suddenly, got sick in a world without spiritual care One summer day in the late 90s I was standing at a urinal at the Jewish Theological Seminary in upper Manhattan when I noticed something solid pass with my urine. In some ways that bathroom was a holy place to me. Sometimes I would see Neil Gillman, the seminary's chief theologian, in there, pissing while using one hand to hold a book he was reading. That blew me away. On one hand, it seemed kind of weird, even disgusting. But mostly I was awed by it. Here was the Jew I had always heard about, the Jew who was all about learning. I mean this guy wouldn't even take a break from learning long enough to just do nothing but piss. Here was a role model, a man I would come to experience also as deeply generous and compassionate. The kind of person in whom this still young man who had never really found a mentor might finally obtain one. But there was so much in the way of that happening, the same toxic things within me that kept me from doing the right things about what I had passed in the urinal. It's not that I didn't seek treatment at all. I saved the solid blob in a wad of paper. I showed it to a doctor. I subjected myself to the IVP kidney test he recommended where I was, terrified and feeling very alone, placed on a cold table by some scary machines in a clinic at Zeckendorf Towers on Union Square. I let the tech put an IV into my arm. "How much water did you drink?" she asked me in what sounded to me like a yell. No one told me not to drink water. They told me not to eat, but I thought I could have as much water as I wanted. Later, I listened to a specialist tell me I had papillary necrosis, a death of the part of the kidneys that do the main job of filtering out toxins from the blood. But when he told me that my kidney function was fine and that there was no immediate treatment needed, I stopped listening. I let any thought of kidney disease go flying out of my head. I just wanted to run away from all this, to go back to believing I was normal, and that I didn't need anyone else. Just like all I wanted to do was run away when I had my physical exam some years earlier for the newspaper job I had finally found. "You're not going to do anything about it?" the doctor scolded me when I was dismissive of her news that I had high blood pressure. "I'm not interested in taking any pills," I told her. There's a reason why they call high blood pressure the silent killer. You don't feel anything while it's slowly destroying your body. Especially the heart. And the kidneys. It's easy to pretend nothing is wrong.

Chapter 6 : "Your job now is to stay alive"-getting started with peritoneal dialysis "Maybe you s... more Chapter 6 : "Your job now is to stay alive"-getting started with peritoneal dialysis "Maybe you should just do hemodialysis." It made me angry, these words from my psychotherapist soon after I started on PD. Hadn't she heard how hard I was striving to make peritoneal dialysis work? How much I wanted it, how much I desired it? But, on the other hand, I understood where she was coming from. She had been listening to me tell a story of pain and struggle. And that's what those early days on PD were, days of pain and struggle. She wanted me to be relieved from my suffering.

The best part of my first birthday on dialysis happened in a family changing room at the beach. T... more The best part of my first birthday on dialysis happened in a family changing room at the beach. There, my wife Minna carefully coiled up my catheter and covered it up with a bunch of waterproof bandages. I was going to go in the ocean! For the first time since starting dialysis. And I did. Afterwards, we drove north to Tel Aviv. We got a wonderful meal at a kosher Vietnamese restaurant right off of Kikar Rabin, and walked around a bit, enjoying the city and each other. It was great, I was living! After my first four months on dialysis, here I was, starting to find my way back to life. But the next day I was depressed, thinking of how hard it would be for me to have another day like that again. So much of having a serious chronic illness like kidney failure is swinging back-and-forth like a pendulum between feeling the proverbial glass is half full or half empty. When we were together, starting with the beautiful drive out of Jerusalem the back way through the hills, it was half full. But the next day I was thinking about how hard it would be to have a day like that again. About how much time and effort it took to coil up that permanent catheter that enters my body just below the top of my pants, and how I could not do it for myself, making spontaneous decisions to go to the water impossible. About how I was stunned when I finally put my feet in the water, to see how unsteady I felt, how much strength I had lost in my legs. About how we had to rush back in the end so I could do my afternoon exchange. Dialysis impacted everything. Especially my relationships with my children.

Chapter 8-The Metamorphosis and a conclusion to a grueling, but redemptive, first year of PD He s... more Chapter 8-The Metamorphosis and a conclusion to a grueling, but redemptive, first year of PD He saw it in my eyes.

Papers by Alan Abrams

REFLECTIVE PRACTICE: FORMATION AND SUPERVISION IN MINISTRY, 2020

In my dissertation, I seek to articulate a fresh approach to creating theologies of pastoral care... more In my dissertation, I seek to articulate a fresh approach to creating theologies of pastoral care in this post-religious age, where theology may seem irrelevant to many. I argue that not only is new theology needed if we are to effectively address the suffering of those who are ill or facing profound loss, but that such a theology must include a passionate desire for the holy, as was true of pastoral care theologies in pre-modern times. But I do not argue for a return to the theologies of old. Rather, this work is a kind of recovery project inspired by the field of affect theory, especially the work of Eve Sedgwick and her concept of reparative reading; I seek to recover the passion of things like pre-modern religious faith without also recovering the oppressive structures that came with them. In the heart of this work, I engage three thought resources to craft what I call a practical-impossible approach to pastoral care. The first two are 20th century French philosophers, Emmanuel Levinas and Gilles Deleuze, who had ethics at the center of their thought. Ethics is a rich place for seeking thought applicable to the task of pastoral care because it, like pastoral care, is concerned about the nature of human relationships. The third thought resource is Talmud as read by contemporary Talmud scholar Sergei Dolgopolski who argues it is a metaphysical but not philosophical system. I conclude with a discussion of the common points between these three thought resources that are often thought to be incompatible.

Judaism could be said to have its own version of Everyone poops — the prayer Asher Yatzar, which ... more Judaism could be said to have its own version of Everyone poops — the prayer Asher Yatzar, which the Talmud presents as being said upon leaving the בית הכסא/beit kisei, the privy. Yet, while this prayer might be about the most ordinary of things, there is nothing ordinary about the prayer itself, neither in its original textual context nor in its use throughout history. Read as a unit with the prayer for entering the privy, Asher Yatzar can be understood as being directed to angels as opposed to God, something extremely unusual — almost heretical — in Judaism. An anthropologist studying Orthodox yeshivot or other traditional Jewish settings might even — seeing the text of Asher Yatzar commonly posted outside of rest rooms — be led to the conclusion that Asher Yatzar, far from being ordinary, is the most important prayer in all of Judaism. As early as Gaonic times, it had been lifted from its original context for recitation and added to the daily prayer service where it can still commonly be found in traditional Jewish prayer books as one of the first morning blessings; in this prayerbook context, the prayer is so divorced from its original “pooping” context as to be understood as an expression of thanks to God for creating the human. And, perhaps most surprisingly, this prayer about the most ordinary daily event has been found to have rich meaning and varieties of expression by Jews suffering crippling and deadly illness. One person with AIDS recites it before taking his medicine, perhaps as a form of thanks for what about his body continues to function despite his illness or perhaps as a petition for future health. An influential singer of Jewish songs and liturgy finds it as a powerful guide to finding meaning from the chaos she had previously experienced around her chronic illness, and others make it a standard part of the recent phenomenon of Jewish healing services.

Anger may lead us to fight for justice, but, alone, it cannot bring healing to the brokenness of ... more Anger may lead us to fight for justice, but, alone, it cannot bring healing to the brokenness of the world. We need joy, too. Joy may not be what we first think -- it may instead be being able to walk through life knowing that what’s in the interest of others is what brings joy to us. Maybe it’s about being able to see that getting in touch with our prophetic anger at injustice is only a first step on the way to healing. We need to heal ourselves, too, by unifying our interests in justice, and, in joy.