Hey everyone, welcome back to My Weird Prompts. I am Corn, and I am sitting here in our somewhat cluttered Jerusalem living room with my brother. It is February twenty-first, twenty-six, and the air outside has that crisp, late-winter bite to it, but inside, things are feeling a little more cramped than usual because of all the supplies we have been moving around.
Herman Poppleberry, reporting for duty. And when Corn says cluttered, he really means we have finally started taking the geopolitical situation as seriously as the news cycle suggests we should. It is one thing to read about regional volatility in a textbook or on a news site, but it is quite another when you are looking at your own pantry and realizing that your entire survival strategy for a blackout is a half-empty bag of pretzels and a single bottle of sparkling water.
It is a bit of a transition, right? Moving from that casual, it will probably be fine attitude to the, okay, what happens if the pharmacy is closed and the water stops running for a few days mindset. We have lived in Jerusalem for a long time, and we have seen the ebbs and flows of tension, but lately, the questions from our listeners have taken a much more practical, almost urgent turn. Today's prompt from Daniel is a perfect example of that. He wants to talk about geopolitical preparedness, specifically through the lens of living in a volatile region. We have touched on this before, especially during the height of the Iran tensions last year, but Daniel wants to go deeper into three specific pillars: water, food, and medication.
It is such an important shift in perspective. Most people think of prepping as this hobby for people living in the middle of nowhere with huge underground bunkers and ten years of wheat berries buried in the backyard. But when you live in a city like Jerusalem, especially with the infrastructure vulnerabilities we have seen in twenty-twenty-five and early twenty-twenty-six, it is not a hobby. It is just basic responsible living. You are not trying to survive the end of the world; you are trying to bridge the gap between a crisis and the restoration of services. It is about being a resilient node in a network rather than a drain on emergency resources.
Exactly. It is about resilience. So, let us start with the most basic necessity. Water. The standard advice we get here from the Home Front Command is to have a seventy-two hour supply. But Daniel is asking something I think a lot of people wonder: what are the practical solutions for small apartments like ours? We are in a sixty-meter space. We do not have room for fifty-gallon drums or a dedicated basement cistern.
Right, and seventy-two hours is really the absolute minimum. That is the window the government expects it will take to organize water distribution points if the mains are hit. For a two-person household, the math is actually more demanding than people realize. You are looking at roughly four liters per person per day just for drinking and very basic hygiene. That is twelve liters per person for three days, or twenty-four liters for the two of us. But if you want to be able to wash your face or, heaven forbid, flush a toilet once, you need to double that. So we are really talking about fifty to sixty liters.
In a small apartment, sixty liters is a lot of space. If you are just buying those six-packs of one point five liter bottles from the supermarket, that is about seven or eight packs. Where do you put them?
This is where you have to get creative with vertical space and dead space. In a sixty-meter apartment, you have to look under the bed, behind the sofa, or even at the bottom of your wardrobe. But Daniel's question about whether it is good indefinitely or if you should only fill it when a crisis is imminent is where it gets technical. If you wait until the sirens are going off to fill your containers, you might find that the water pressure has already dropped, or worse, that the water is contaminated because of a pipe burst elsewhere in the city.
Yeah, because if I fill a container now and a crisis does not happen for six months, am I drinking plastic-flavored bacteria? I do not want to survive a rocket attack only to be taken out by dysentery because I did not rotate my jugs.
That is a very real fear. So, here is the deal with water storage. If you are buying commercially sealed bottled water, it is generally considered safe for a very long time. The expiration date on a bottle of mineral water is not for the water; it is for the plastic. Over time, the plastic can leach chemicals into the water, especially if it is stored in a warm place or in direct sunlight. But if you keep it in a cool, dark spot, that water is fine for years. However, if you are filling your own containers, like those five-liter or ten-liter jugs Daniel mentioned, you have to be much more careful. Water is not technically alive, but the stuff in it is. Biofilms can form on the inside of the container, and even a tiny amount of organic matter can lead to bacterial growth.
So, is the recommendation to rotate it?
Absolutely. If you are filling your own containers, you should rotate that water every six months. You use it to water the plants or do the laundry, then refill. And you should use food-grade plastic containers. Do not just reuse old milk jugs or soda bottles. Milk jugs are biodegradable and will eventually leak, and soda bottles are hard to clean properly. You want high-density polyethylene, or H D P E, which is marked with a number two in the recycling triangle. These are more opaque and much thicker, which prevents light from getting in and algae from growing.
What about the space-saving side? I have seen those collapsible water bags. Are they any good, or are they just prone to popping and turning your living room into a swimming pool?
They are great for what I call the warning window. If you hear that things are escalating, you can fill them up in the bathtub and suddenly you have twenty liters of storage that was previously flat in a drawer. But for a permanent stockpile, I prefer something more rigid. There are these things called WaterBricks. They are stackable, rectangular containers that hold about thirteen liters each. They are designed to fit under beds or in the bottom of closets like Lego bricks. They are incredibly durable and much more space-efficient than round bottles because there is no wasted air space between them.
That makes sense. But let us talk about the shelf life again. Is there a way to treat the water so you do not have to rotate it as often? I am lazy, Herman. I do not want to be hauling sixty liters of water to the plants every six months.
You can use a tiny bit of unscented liquid bleach. We are talking like eight drops per gallon, or about two drops per liter. That will kill most of the pathogens and keep the water shelf-stable for longer. There are also commercial water preservers, like Aquamira, which use chlorine dioxide and can keep water safe for up to five years in a sealed container. But honestly, for most people, just buying the sealed cases of water and rotating them by drinking them and replacing them is the easiest path. It ensures you always have fresh stock.
That is the most practical way for us. We just keep a few cases in the pantry, and when we finish one, we buy another. It is a rolling inventory. But what about the bigger picture? If seventy-two hours turns into a week, suddenly our little apartment stockpile looks pretty thin.
That is where filtration comes in. Even in a city, if the water system goes down, you might still have access to the water in your building's roof tanks, which are very common here in Jerusalem. But you do not want to drink that straight. Those tanks are often full of sediment, bird droppings, and who knows what else. Having a high-quality filter, like a Sawyer Squeeze or a LifeStraw, is a great secondary layer. It takes up almost no space and can process thousands of liters. If you want something more robust for the kitchen counter, a Berkey filter or a similar gravity-fed system is amazing, though they are a bit bulky for a sixty-meter apartment.
Okay, so water is manageable with a bit of stacking and a rolling inventory. Let us move to food. Daniel specifically asked about M R Es, or Meals Ready-to-Eat, versus something like protein bars. I know you have done some deep dives into the caloric density of these things. Are M R Es overkill for a seventy-two hour window?
It depends on what you are preparing for. If you are just sitting in your apartment waiting for the power to come back on, M R Es are a bit much. They are designed for soldiers who are burning four thousand calories a day in the field. They are heavy, they are expensive, and they produce a lot of trash. But they have one huge advantage: they are a complete, hot meal. Most M R Es come with a flameless ration heater. You just add a little bit of water to a chemical sleeve, and it boils the food in the pouch. In a crisis, especially one that involves a lot of stress or cold weather, a hot meal is a massive psychological boost. It is the difference between feeling like a refugee and feeling like you are just having a weird dinner.
That is a good point. Comfort matters when the world feels like it is falling apart. But Daniel mentioned they are expensive, like fifteen or twenty dollars a serving here in Israel if you can even find the American ones.
Yeah, the import costs are brutal. And honestly, the taste is... well, it is an acquired taste. If you are looking for pure efficiency in a small space, protein bars or meal replacement shakes like Soylent or Huel are actually better. They are shelf-stable, they require zero preparation, and the caloric density is very high. You can store a week's worth of calories in a shoebox. But you cannot live on protein bars for long without feeling pretty miserable. Your digestive system needs more than just compressed soy protein and sugar alcohols.
I can attest to that. We tried a protein-bar-only weekend once for a hike, and by Sunday night, I would have traded my soul for a bowl of warm soup.
Exactly. My recommendation for a Jerusalem apartment is a tiered approach. Tier one is your regular pantry. Canned beans, tuna, pasta, rice, and tahini. Tahini is actually a survival superfood. It is shelf-stable, packed with healthy fats and protein, and you can eat it with anything. Tier two is the easy-prep stuff, like those freeze-dried pouches from brands like Mountain House or ReadyWise. You just add boiling water to the bag, wait ten minutes, and you have beef stroganoff or pasta primavera. They taste much better than M R Es and they last for twenty-five years. Tier three is the M R Es or bars for when you might have to leave the house quickly.
So M R Es are more for the go-bag than the stay-at-home pantry?
Precisely. If we have to go to a shelter or leave the city, an M R E is great because it is self-contained. You do not need a stove or even clean water to heat it. But if we are stuck here in the living room, I would much rather open a can of chickpeas and some sardines. Also, we should talk about the shelf life of M R Es. People think they last forever, but they really do not. They are designed to last about three years at eighty degrees Fahrenheit. If you store them in a hot Israeli balcony or a trunk of a car, they can go bad in six months. The freeze-dried pouches are much more resilient to temperature swings.
I also want to address the digestive side of M R Es. There is that long-standing joke or myth that they are designed to, uh, keep you from needing the bathroom. Which might be useful in a foxhole, but maybe not so great if you are just stressed at home.
It is not entirely a myth. They are very low in fiber and very high in protein and fat, which definitely slows things down. That is why they usually come with a piece of gum that contains a mild laxative, or at least that is the urban legend. In reality, it is just about the lack of fiber. If you are going to stock M R Es, you also need to stock fiber supplements or dried fruit. Prunes are a prepper's best friend, Daniel. Trust me on that one.
Good tip. Now, let us get to the most difficult part of Daniel's prompt. Medication. This is something that really hit home for him during the recent tensions. He mentioned his Vyvanse, which is a controlled substance for A D H D. When the pharmacies shut down or the systems go offline, how do you manage? Especially when you cannot just buy a six-month supply of a controlled drug.
This is the most critical and most frustrating part of preparedness. For something like water or food, you can just buy more. For life-saving or strictly controlled medication, you are at the mercy of a bureaucratic system. And as Daniel experienced, that system is not always resilient to war. When the national sirens go off and the shops close, the computer says no. In Israel, the system is highly centralized through the health funds like Maccabi or Clalit. If their servers are down or the pharmacist cannot verify a digital signature, you are stuck.
It is a terrifying thought. If you are on insulin, or heart medication, or even something like Vyvanse where the withdrawal or the sudden lack of focus can be dangerous in a crisis, what do you do? If you are in a shelter and you need to be making split-second decisions, a Vyvanse crash is the last thing you need.
There are a few strategies, though they require planning long before the crisis hits. The first is what I call the script overlap. Most health funds allow you to refill a thirty-day prescription a few days early, usually at the twenty-five or twenty-seven day mark. If you refill every twenty-five days instead of every thirty, over the course of a year, you can build up a small buffer. It is slow, but it is legal and it works. After six months, you have about a two-week reserve.
But for something like Vyvanse, they often track it to the exact day because it is a controlled substance.
They do. In those cases, you have to have a very honest conversation with your doctor. You explain that you live in a volatile area and you are concerned about supply chain disruptions. Some doctors are willing to write a one-time emergency prescription for a two-week or thirty-day supply to be kept in reserve. They might label it as a travel supply if you tell them you are going abroad for a month. It is not about hoarding; it is about having a safety net.
Does that actually work here in Israel? The Ministry of Health is pretty strict about those yellow pads for controlled substances.
It is tough. But in times of actual emergency, like we saw in the fall of twenty-twenty-five, the Ministry of Health does sometimes relax the rules, allowing pharmacists to dispense emergency supplies without a fresh digital signature. The problem is the gap between the crisis starting and the rules being relaxed. That forty-eight to seventy-two hour window is the danger zone. Another option, though it is expensive, is to look at private doctors who can issue paper prescriptions that you can fill at private pharmacies. It costs more because it is not subsidized by the health fund, but it gets you that extra bottle for the emergency kit.
What about the physical storage of meds? If the power goes out and you have something that needs refrigeration, like insulin?
That is where you need a dedicated plan. You can get small, battery-powered medical fridges, or even just high-quality vacuum-insulated containers like a Frio bag. These use evaporative cooling and can keep insulin at the right temperature for days just by soaking the pouch in water. But for most shelf-stable meds, the key is keeping them in a cool, dark, dry place. Not the bathroom cabinet! The humidity in bathrooms is terrible for pills. Keep them in a waterproof, airtight container in the darkest part of your apartment.
Daniel mentioned going cold turkey on a high dose of Vyvanse while trying to stay alert during a conflict. That sounds like a nightmare. You are already in a high-stress situation, and now your brain is working against you.
It is a double whammy. And it is not just the withdrawal; it is the loss of the coping mechanism the med provides. If you need to be sharp to make decisions about where to go or how to stay safe, and you are suddenly in a brain fog, that is a safety risk. This is why I think medical preparedness is actually more important than food. You can go three weeks without food, but you might not last three days without certain medications. If you are on something like a beta-blocker or an anti-depressant, stopping cold turkey can cause rebound hypertension or severe emotional instability, which is the last thing you want in a bunker.
So, for our listeners who are in similar situations, the takeaway is to start that conversation with your healthcare provider now. Do not wait for the headlines to get scary.
Exactly. And also, keep a physical copy of your prescriptions. We are so used to everything being on our phones or in the cloud, but the cloud is very fragile during a cyberattack or a massive power outage. If the pharmacy's internet is down, they cannot see your digital records. But if you have a piece of paper with a doctor's signature and a stamp, a pharmacist has the legal grounds to help you manually. It is the analog backup for a digital world.
That is a great point. I also think there is a psychological component to all of this. Just knowing you have that seventy-two hour supply of water, some high-calorie food, and a buffer of your meds... it lowers the baseline anxiety. It allows you to focus on the actual situation rather than the panic of scarcity. When the sirens go off, you want your brain to be thinking about the nearest shelter, not about whether you have enough water to last until Tuesday.
It is the difference between being a victim of circumstances and being an active participant in your own safety. Daniel talked about getting good at living in a volatile part of the world. Getting good means reducing the number of things that can surprise you. You cannot control where the rockets fall or when the power grid goes down, but you can control whether or not you are thirsty while you are in the shelter. You can control whether you have a hot meal to share with your brother.
It is about reclaiming a sense of agency. We live in a world where so much is out of our hands, especially here in the Middle East. But the contents of my pantry and the rotation of my water bottles? That is mine. That is something I can manage. It is a form of mental health maintenance as much as it is physical survival.
And it extends to your community too. If you are prepared, you are not a burden on the system. You are not the person standing in a three-hour line for water distribution, which means that water can go to someone who truly has nothing. If you have an extra inhaler or a spare bottle of water, you might even be in a position to help a neighbor who is not as prepared. That is how a city like Jerusalem stays resilient. It is not just the government; it is thousands of individuals who have their act together.
I like that. Preparedness as a form of civic duty. So, let us recap for Daniel and everyone else. For water in small spaces: think vertical, use H D P E containers, keep a rolling inventory of store-bought bottles, and have a high-quality filter as a backup. For food: keep a tiered pantry with things you actually like to eat, use freeze-dried pouches for long-term storage, and keep M R Es or protein bars in your go-bag for mobility. And for meds: start building a buffer now through early refills, talk to your doctor about emergency supplies, and always, always keep paper copies of your prescriptions.
And maybe most importantly, do not let the preparation itself become a source of stress. You do not have to do it all today. Do it incrementally. Buy one extra case of water this week. Buy two extra cans of tuna next week. Talk to your doctor at your next scheduled appointment. It is a marathon, not a sprint. The goal is to be one percent more prepared every week.
Unless the sirens go off, then it is definitely a sprint to the shelter. But hopefully, you are sprinting with a full water bottle and your meds in your pocket.
Exactly. And hey, if you are finding these deep dives into the practicalities of our weird lives helpful, we would really appreciate it if you could leave us a review on your podcast app. It helps other people find the show, and we love hearing your feedback. We have been getting a lot of messages from people in other volatile regions—parts of Eastern Europe and Southeast Asia—who are dealing with similar issues.
It really does make a difference. We have been doing this for seven hundred forty-three episodes now, and the community feedback is what keeps us going. Whether you are in Jerusalem, Kyiv, or anywhere else in the world dealing with your own versions of volatility, we are glad you are here with us. We are all just trying to figure out how to live well in a world that feels increasingly unpredictable.
You can find us at myweirdprompts dot com for the full archive and a way to get in touch. We are also on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and pretty much everywhere else you get your audio fix.
If you want to send us a prompt like Daniel did, or just say hi, you can reach us at show at myweirdprompts dot com. We read every single email, even if it takes us a while to get back to you.
Thanks for listening, and stay safe out there. Keep your water rotated and your batteries charged.
Thanks everyone. We will talk to you in the next one. Goodbye!
Goodbye!
