It began in Netanya, under the bright coastal sun, where the spirit of life-saving always seems to find its way through the salt air. My summer unfolded in shades of vivid orange, stitched together by encounters with extraordinary people tied to a single, relentless mission.
It started with two remarkable female medics from the Sandberg Women’s Unit. The first was preparing for one of the biggest moments of her life—her wedding was just five days away—yet when a call came in to assist an elderly man in distress, she didn’t hesitate for a second. She strapped on her gear and rushed out the door, putting someone else’s crisis before her own celebration. The second was a bright, talented young woman whose passion for emergency care was unmistakable as she poured her energy into volunteering at Laniado Hospital’s emergency room program. Standing alongside them, I felt the great, quiet pride of a shared calling.
Not long after, while at a camp in Kerem B’Yavne, that shared calling found me again. Word spread through the camp that I was a medic with the Sandberg Women’s Unit, and I was quickly called to assist a woman in urgent need. She was recovering from a C-section, overwhelmed by physical pain, severe anxiety attacks, and a burgeoning Messiah complex. Leaning heavily on my training from the Psychotrauma and Crisis Response Unit, I conducted a swift medical assessment before focusing on stabilizing her psychological state. Through grounding techniques and patient care, I managed to de-escalate her panic, staying by her side until we seamlessly transitioned her to full medical and psychiatric follow-up care.
Seeking a moment of rest, I traveled north to the lush green hills of the Galilee, ending up in Dalton. During a visit to the Adir Winery and Dairy Farm for a wine tasting, my eyes immediately caught a distinct detail on a man standing nearby: a satellite communications device clipped neatly to his belt.
“Are you with United Hatzalah?” I asked.
He smiled and nodded. As it turned out, besides serving as the vineyard’s kosher supervisor, he was one of the founders of United Hatzalah in the region, predating the Second Lebanon War in 2006. Today, he managed over twenty dispatchers across the Galilee. Connecting with an “orange brother” in the middle of a winery felt like finding family in the unlikeliest of places. As we finished sampling the wines and artisanal cheeses, he pointed toward the sommelier who had been guiding our tasting. “His father is a long-time volunteer medic too,” he shared warmly, “and a male nurse at the local hospital.”
When we finally settled back into Dalton, another layer of the web revealed itself: the town’s most active emergency medic was a woman named Orly—yet another dedicated sister from the Sandberg Women’s Unit.
From the emergency room in Netanya to the quiet courtyards of Kerem B’Yavne and the sun-drenched vineyards of the Galilee, my summer became a testament to a quiet, powerful network. Bound together by satellite radios, orange vests, and an unwavering desire to save lives, these ordinary people do extraordinary things, woven into every corner of the land.