My uncle Michael Goldsmith, a TABC graduate from 2003, tested positive for the Coronavirus disease just a few days after Purim. In this article, I will tell you what he and my family went through, so you can learn how devastating this disease can be.
On Friday, March 13, my uncle went to the hospital because he had a fever and a cough (two symptoms for COVID-19). After a few days in the hospital, they sent him home. My uncle rode out the virus at home for 4 days, but he consistently had a fever of 104 and seemed to be getting worse.
Feeling dizzy and winded every time he took a step, he called his doctor. His doctor wanted to check his oxygen levels, so he asked my uncle if he had a pulse oskimitor and he did - one for his son, Joey Goldsmith, but it was a pediatric one. The doctor asked him to try and see if it would fit on his finger, and (Baruch Hashem) it did. His oxygen levels were 88 to 89 at home, so the doctor told him to go back to the hospital, so he did.
While admitted at the hospital, his oxygen levels continued falling. Due to his worrisome turn of events, his doctor, Han Nguyen, recommended he go on a ventilator. My uncle was against this, but my Aunt Elana talked him into it. And so it happened. While on the ventilator, my uncle looked like he was asleep in a medically induced coma; tubes ran down his throat to help him breathe.
At that time, there was not yet much information about Covid; it seemed like the only thing that could help him was this special drug called Remdesivir. This drug was created and manufactured by Gilead Pharmaceuticals, and, to be able to get this drug, the company had to either approve you for compassionate use or you had to be admitted into one of their clinical trials. My family immediately tried to get him this drug. As you will see, that turned into a difficult fight.
My family was shaken by this terrible news of my uncle’s condition. We went from the happiness of celebrating Purim to the sadness of davening to Hashem for my uncle’s life.
A few days went by and my uncle wasn’t getting better. His intake of oxygen from the ventilator would go up and down and sometimes would even be at 100 percent. Gilead denied him access to the drug Remdesivir because he had been on the ventilator for too long and because of other complicated political reasons that had nothing to do with my uncle at all. His doctors called it “falling through the cracks.” This was a big blow to my family.
Many in our social orbit took action after this: some posted on social media to try and get Gilead's attention, others reached out to anyone they knew with a connection to Gilead, and many more tried to do anything to comfort my aunt and her two young kids, Joey and Sophie.
My aunt was extremely strong during this crisis, balancing taking care of her two children and doing everything she could to help my uncle. Instead of shutting herself down, my aunt rose and did whatever it took to try and get my uncle this medicine.
She appealed to social media and also spoke with senators, congressmen, and White House staffers. She was interviewed by many journalists; these interviews aired on live TV, including NBC Nightly News, and the story about our fight and my uncle’s worsening condition spread widely.
My uncle’s parents and his siblings (along with their spouses) also fought to get him the medicine. My mom and dad wouldn’t sleep. They would sit in the basement or their room, trying to get in touch with as many people as they could who were connected to Gilead. I’d hear my mom crying every time she was on the phone or saying Tehillim for my uncle.
This brought a lot of pressure on me. While I was taking on-line classes, I’d try to stay positive and make it seem like nothing was wrong, but each time I heard my mom crying on the phone after another unsuccessful call, it would just make me feel sad again. I would no longer be able to offer a fake smile or to act like everything was all right.
My grandparents were also extremely depressed. My grandmother in particular would cry over anything that reminded her of my uncle. She would stay up all night trying to do anything for my uncle, even though she herself was also suffering from the coronavirus! She would be in bed all day and night and would refuse to eat.
After a while, my grandmother finally agreed to eat something, so she went to the kitchen to warm up noodles that my grandfather had made for her the night before. While sitting on a chair in the kitchen, making herself tuna so that she would have protein to go with her noodles, she suddenly fainted.
Luckily, my grandfather was sitting next to my grandmother on the phone with our Rabbi, Andrew Markowitz, and when my grandmother fainted, he immediately called 911. He then called my parents, who called my uncle Josh (Uncle Michael's brother), and they all came running over to my grandparent's house. I was in class while this was going on - all of a sudden, I heard my mom yelling at my dad to come quickly, so he could drive her over to my grandparent's house. I’m telling you this story to give you some sense of the stress that this calamity placed on my family.
Meanwhile, efforts to find a drug for my uncle seemed to be going nowhere. After many tries, my mother was able to get in contact with someone who worked at Gilead. This person was kind enough to take down all of my uncle’s hospital information and then try to get him the drug. Yet, despite this person’s many efforts, my uncle was still denied access.
On March 27, two weeks after my uncle first contracted the disease, my aunt was able to speak with Dr. Diana Brainard, Senior Vice President at Gilead. She begged her to include my uncle in the clinical trial or for compassionate use, but Brainard said no.
It seemed like there was no hope. As my aunt recalls, “We had tried every route, every path and every person who could possibly help us, and they tried, but Gilead would not release the drug to Michael. At this point, we had gone up to the White House and to the head of the FDA and nothing happened.”
But our family would not give up. After conferring with my uncle’s team of doctors, we decided to give up the fight for Remdesivir. We soon got in touch with Roche Pharmaceuticals and arranged for my uncle to try a drug called Actemra. This drug is mostly used for Rheumatoid Arthritis, but our doctors suggested it might help my uncle as well.
On that very same day, something ironic happened. Gilead, the manufacturers of Remdesivir, declared that they would expand access to all patients who needed the drug. The irony, though, was that my uncle was too far into his illness to gain any benefit from it.
This news from Gilead actually made my mother feel happy, not angry. She said, “This was very emotional to experience. On one hand, it felt frustrating because Michael needed this drug all along but couldn’t get it now because he had been ill for too long. On the other hand, I was joyful and full of relief that in the knowledge that our efforts to make the drug accessible to all had worked and hopefully no other family would have to experience what we went through.”
In the meantime, we waited and prayed. While my uncle was in the ICU on the ventilator, my aunt would Facetime him and try to give him words of encouragement. She’d encourage him to keep fighting and remind him that we all loved him and hoped to see him soon.
Pesach finally arrived, but it was extremely depressing. During a time that you are supposed to celebrate with Simcha (happiness), we were at home, all alone, in quarantine. We couldn’t have a seder with our grandparents, whom we felt needed us because of my uncle’s touch-and-go condition.
But, worst of all, my poor aunt wasn’t allowed to have a seder with anyone. She later told me, “I was very nervous the whole Erev Pesach about taking over Michael’s jobs such as leading the Seder. Taking over his job made me feel like I was moving on and that I was giving up, but I knew that my kids needed a seder so I put on a big smile for my kids and did it anyway.”
When her kids would ask about my uncle, she would say that he was taking a long Shabbos nap and that, when he comes home, he shouldn’t expect to be taking a Shabbos nap again.
The doctors were hoping that they could extubate my uncle and take him off the ventilator sometime over the first few days of Pesach, but they weren’t sure exactly when. My grandmother needed to be in touch with my aunt over the Yom Tov because she couldn’t go a day without knowing any updates. It was too scary and stressful for her. Because she had her phone with her at all times, we would go twice a day in the morning and at night for an update on my uncle’s condition.
On the first night of Pesach, I had my seder with my family and I printed out the Haggadah from my Rebbe, Rabbi Jake Berman. I was reading through the Haggadah, saying many of the Dvrei Torah, and when I got to Mah Nishtanah (the 4 questions), I saw that he had written this: “The Sefarim say that, at this point, it’s our time to turn to Hashem - U’kaan Haben Shoel - we can daven and ask anything and everything that we need and want (Be'er HaChaim, Rav Meilich Biderman). What should we daven for?”
This was so moving to my family and me, learning that, on one of the holiest nights of the year, with Hashem watching over us, we had the chance to ask for my uncle to get better.
That same day, my family and I walked over to my grandparents to find out an update on how my uncle was doing. Things were not going in the right direction, so what had previously felt like a nice day now got very depressing. I asked my grandparents how their first seder was and my grandmother responded, “There were enough tears that we didn’t even need a bowl of saltwater.”
On the second day of Pesach, we found out that my uncle had another delay in coming off the ventilator. The doctors had to raise his oxygen levels on the ventilator to 100 because he had a mucus plug in his left lung. But after the doctors found the issue, they performed a quick surgery to resolve it. Later that night, the doctors were able to lower the oxygen on the ventilator.
On the afternoon of the third day of Pesach, Shabbat Chol Hamoed, my grandparents got the news that my uncle was extubated. They both walked over to my house to tell us the wonderful news - my grandfather, who needs a hip replacement, and my grandmother, who was constantly coughing and had trouble breathing because of COVID-19! Both of them walked the entire distance, because they were so overcome with joy.
Hearing this news changed everything. It brought hope that everything would be okay. This revealed the truth behind Pesach. Pesach is all about נסים ונפלאות (miracles and wonders).
A few days later, my uncle was moved out of the ICU into a “Step Down” unit in the hospital. He still had to use an oxygen mask for a week.
A week after that, my aunt informed us that she would pick up my uncle from the hospital at 10:30 that very day! My uncle was finally coming home. Immediately after this exciting news broke, my uncle Josh sent us all a text saying, “Hodu L’Hashem Ki Tov Ki Le’Olam Chassdo.”
Around thirty minutes later, my family and I left our house to go and welcome my uncle. In the car, my mom said, “You're gonna remember this day because you are about to witness a real miracle.” While waiting on my aunt and uncle’s lawn, many people started to arrive to celebrate his recovery.
After an hour’s wait, I finally saw what we had all been waiting for: my uncle’s return. Around 100 people were there to cheer for him and honk the horns in their cars. He said that he was surprised to see so many people; he said that he knew that his family would be there for him, but he didn’t think others would come out for him as well.
Later on, I asked my uncle if he could remember anything from his stay in the hospital. He told me he could actually remember one thing from his Facetime conversations with my aunt (even though he was in a coma and on the ventilator). He said he remembered my aunt telling him that my cousin Joey had lost his tooth and that Joey wanted him to know. To me, this was crazy to hear, because people don’t usually remember what happened while they are in a medically induced coma or a coma in general.
My aunt tells a story that, in many ways, summarizes this entire experience for my family. She wanted to give Tzedakah to Hatzalah, but when she clicked on the button to donate, she accidentally donated more money than she had intended to. She called up her mother to tell her this, and her mother said that it was all for the better.
Later, Hatzalah called my aunt up and asked her if she donated that much money by accident; my aunt responded by saying no, it was all for the best. She had also heard about all the people who donated money so that my uncle would have a recovery. She believes that all the Tzedakah given to my uncle to recover is what healed him. In her words, “When Hashem sees you help people in need, he will help you in return.”
We learn in Parshat Beshalach by Krias Yam Suf that, once you take action, Hashem will do the rest. Nachshon ben Aminadav went into the Yam Suf first and once he was about to drown, Hashem split the sea.
I believe the same thing happened with my uncle. Everyone took action. Jews and non-Jews all prayed and did all they could to help my uncle; once Hashem saw that, he did his part and healed my uncle. The unity in the fight for my uncle (not only in our Jewish community but also globally) was awe inspiring. The constant Tefillot accompanied with Tzedaka are the reasons we believe that my uncle is alive today.