My childhood friend is fighting to stay alive
The message I had dreaded since the start of the pandemic came in midJanuary, shortly before the UK recorded its highest daily Covid19 death toll of 1820.
It came from my best friend, Bahareh Shirsavar, in Tehran. ‘‘I bear bad news’’ were the opening words that sank my heart. The rest I read in a blur of disbelief, taking in only three words: ‘‘Nojan’’, ‘‘Covid’’, ‘‘coma’’.
Nojan is my childhood friend, and Bahareh’s cousin. He is part of my best memories of growing up in Tehran and, later, of working and living in London.
A specialist dentist, Nojan, 57, was admitted, on New Year’s Eve, to The Royal Free Hospital, where he was put in a medically induced coma, so he could be mechanically ventilated.
This happens only when the oxygen level in a patient’s blood is so low that oxygen has to be pumped directly into the patient’s lungs to avoid the body shutting down.
I often think about how scary this experience must have been for Nojan. Being short of oxygen would have felt like being smothered. Other Covid-19 patients have described it as like a thousand bees stinging them inside their chest.
Being in ICU, surrounded by people in full personal protective equipment, and cut off from anything familiar, must have been anxietyinducing too.
Nojan would have known the risks of being ventilated. Too much air can cause further lung damage and the sedation can mask other serious medical conditions that arise because of Covid-19, such as major strokes.
Not surprisingly, most Covid-19 deaths occur in hospitals. Ventilated patients have between 40 and 60 per cent chance of survival and are often told, at short notice, to make calls to their family and friends, as it could be their last chance to speak to loved ones.
On January 14, two weeks after being admitted, Nojan received a tracheostomy, to surgically attach a tube to his neck to connect him
Being short of oxygen would have felt like being smothered
directly to a ventilator. The procedure is done because the breathing tube, inserted in his mouth and down his airway, is only safe for two to three weeks. The tracheostomy made his breathing easier. Things were starting to look up.
Nojan’s loving twin sister, Noushin, wrote to deliver the good news: his blood tests showed there was no other organ damage and his oxygen levels were up. The plan was to start the slow process of waking him up. More good news came at the end of January. Nojan was breathing more on his own and the ventilator was on a low setting. He was more alert, and they had started physiotherapy on him. We were overjoyed.
But then there was a change brought by another lung infection. A long period of short messages calling for prayers followed. Then a shocking message from Noushin on February 26: ‘‘We are broken. Doctors have told Sahar to prepare herself for very, very sad news.’’ Sahar is Nojan’s devoted wife, a tower of strength and mother to their adorable 9-year-old twins (a twin himself, Nojan is also father to twins).
The news seemed unfathomable. I just couldn’t believe we were going to lose the witty, smart, loveable Nojan. The hospital allowed Sahar, Noushin and a handful of friends to go and see him. I was distraught at not being able to join them.
Still in disbelief, we looked at lung transplantation, but he was too ill to have it. I also learnt, much to my surprise, that the British government does not allow it on Covid-19 patients anyway. Lung transplantation is extremely resource-intensive, costs about US$1 million, and has a low chance of success. At the time, UK hospitals were overwhelmed with Covid-19 patients. At its peak, there were more than 4000 Covid-19 patients on ventilators.
Today, that number has been reduced to under 300. Nojan is among a small group of UK patients who, four months later and defying the doctors, is still on a ventilator and fighting to stay alive.
The other day we heard he had managed a smile and was able to hold Sahar’s hand. He communicates by blinking and, occasionally, by drawing. But his lungs are badly damaged and his future remains uncertain. If you are a believer, please pray for Nojan. His family would appreciate it very much.
Part of me can’t help but think it didn’t have to be this way. Boris Johnson’s gross mismanagement of
Covid-19 is well documented. It’s a sobering fact that about one in every
500 people in the UK has died of
Covid-19. How lucky we are to have been spared the deaths, if not its longdistance agony.
Unfortunately, the UK vaccines came too late for Nojan. Vaccination, most likely, would have saved him from severe disease. Soon, we will all be offered the Pfizer vaccine. Please think about the agony of this awful disease and don’t hesitate to get vaccinated.