Until the sky erupted over our heads

We were in a hospital room when the siren started.

I knew that it was their worst nightmare- a siren going off in the middle of the procedure.

I was holding their hand, as the doctor was holding a massive needle and knife, deep in their skin.

There was no crying, but there was certainly cursing when our watches and phones started blaring that there was a rocket warning.

We looked at each other in shock. Mid-procedure is not a time when you can just run to safety.

We discussed the possibility of this beforehand, but we determined that it was urgent and it needed to be done. We had waited a long time for the appointment and decided to get it done.

The doctors and nurses were amazing- calm and professional. Finished the procedure as we counted the minutes till the siren would go- the blood was cleaned up, skin butterflied, clothes back on and we were out in the hallway when the entire hospital began to shriek with sirens.

We were shuffled into a large crowd of people in the hospital, post-surgery, with wheelchairs and oxygen tanks, concerned parents, and sick toddlers.

People with Kippot of all different types and stripes, mitpachot, wigs, headbands, hair, and hijabs. Teenagers with green hair, old men listening to the radio, very pregnant women trying to find places to sit down.

Vulnerable people coming for treatment in the middle of a war.

We squeezed into a miklat, with at least 150 other people. Bodies pressed up against each other, hospital beds taking up space with people hovering in every corner.

Considering how many people were there, it was relatively quiet. Until the sky erupted over our heads with a "BOOM" and the whole room gasped.

They whispered about the rockets in frazzled voices.

We waited for a long time.

It took me a long time for my nervous system to recover.

I'm writing from the bomb shelter right now, back at home after another siren.

Real life in Israel right now.