Code Blue in Boston - Monthly Gedolim Stories

 Code Blue in Boston 2

In this month of Taamuz as we now come out from fasting on the day of Shiva Assur BeTammuz, (17th of Taamuz) and get into the three weeks, one may be drawn to focus on the tragedies and hardship in their life, due to the thoughts they may have about the fact that we are back herebagain, yet another year in which wr are hoping still for Mashiach, for the Holy Third Temple to be rebuilt and it seems that nothing will change.

One could choose to live their Taamuz and early Av days this way, and one shoukd focus on the difficulties and hardships of this period to some extent but we must not forget that within despair and tragedy and suffering there are also fragments little whispers of blessing that Hashem sends us.

I believe that this is the spirit that one should try and approach these difficult and emotionally charred days. With understanding and knowledge of the events of our history and yet within all those clouds, one should search for hope, just a ray of soft light. Find His light, if you can.

With that out the way, I now invite you to read the story I present as this months' "Gadol Story." It is one featured in many of Rabbi Paysach Krohn's books. However, this rendition will be told via his book, "Reflections of the Maggid." It is a story of not giving up, of Kiddush Hashem and most importantly for this month, gratitude.

I hope you will enjoy the read.

Code Blue in Boston - Monthly Gedolim Stories

For more than fourteen years, Dr. China Chaim (Howie) Lebowitz divided his time and energy between providing expert medical services in his hometown of Boston and in the Holy City of Yerushalayim Ir HaKodesh. A graduate of Harvard Medical School, where he later taught, Dr. Lebowitz is an internist with an impeccable reputation.

More than three decades ago, Dr. Lebowitz began his religious studies at Yeshiva Aish HaTorah in Yerushalayim, where he became enamoured by the brilliance and guidance of the holy Rosh Yeshiva Rav Noach Weinberg. He would go one to become one of the teachers for Aish HaTorahs Discovery program. Around the time when this story was written and published, in about 2002) Dr. Lebowitz was spending his time learning in the Mirrer Yeshiva in Yerushalayim, seeing patients after seder and at night, alongside being consulted on medical matters by the most renownedrabbanim in Eretz Yisrael. He then moved to Lakewood, where he lived at the time the story was fully published.

Rabbi Krohn first this story from Dr Lebowitz himself one Simchas Torah.

As Senior Resident in Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston, Dr Lebowitz was in charge of its often frenzied emergency room. The ER in Brigham, like other emergency rooms worldwide, is constantly full of activity as the skilled doctors and nurses attend to the many patients, according to the severity of their situations. A stroke person cannot be kept waiting as every precious moment counts, a person with a broken ankle- as painful as it is - must wait until the car crash victim is attended to. In many hospitals the emergency room comprises a row of cubicles separated by thin curtains where immediate and not so immediate attention is given to the myriad of patients who arrive unannounced through the day and night. All this activity takes place to the steady din of staccato beeps of monitors and cardiogram and constant checking on computers and systems as information is entered on forms registrations and medical records.

One afternoon as Dr. Lebowitz was doing his rounds in the emergency room, the loudspeaker blared a "Code Blue alert, the words that indicate an emergency life threatening situation. A woman had suffered a severe heart attack in the cafeteria upstairs and was in cardiac arrest. Grabbing his equipment, Dr Lebowitz raced upstairs, where he found doctors already working to save the woman.

All the people had been cleared from the cafeteria with a security guard making sure that only medical personnel would enter. Dr. Lebowitz rushed towards the huddle of people in the middle of the room. "How is she doing?" he asked one of the doctors who was kneeling on the floor attending to the woman. "I'm afraid it's too late," the doctor responded. "We've been working on her for a while already."

Dr. Lebowitz didn't blink. "Let me try," he said quickly moving toward the patient. He inserted an intravenous catheter directly into her heart to get her started on epinephrine which would help to prevent further progression of the blood clot to her coronary arteries. He applied to large defibrillator to her body and prepared to attempt to shock the heart back to a normal rhythm.

Dr. Lebowitz tried numerous times to get a heartbeat but was unsuccessful. The other began to leave the cafeteria, shaking their heads in disappointment that a patient had died right in front of their eyes.

However, Dr Lebowitz would not give up... not just yet. He tried a fifth, a sixth time to stimulate a heartbeat, but it just was not coming. It wasn't happening. He realised that the end was nest, if it hadn't already come. But he would not walk away just yet. He would try one more time. One more time.

He pressed the control button on the defibrillator with added strength and emphasis... he glanced at the monitor...

When, suddenly, he saw the thin, oh, razor-thin line that had remained flat all this time, dart upwards! There was life! A doctor called out in disbelief, "Howie, oh my! You've got a heartbeat! You've got a heartbeat!"

Infused with sheer hope, determination, and renewed strength, Dr Lebowitz worked frantically to continue the heart's revival and, with concerted effort, managed to stimulate a feeble pulse. He ordered medics to transfer the patient to the third floor ICU, where she would be treated and observed and cared for at every moment. Once in the ICU her progress was slow but steady.

Dr. Lebowitz returned to the emergency room to continue his duties. Periodically, he would call up to the ICU unit to get an update on the woman's condition. Six hours later, he was told the good news that she was being allowed to sit up in bed. Dr. Lebowitz wondered if he should go up and visit the woman. She wasn't his patient. She would surely not recognise him, and he truthfully did not need her thanks. He was in this line of work, in this field to help people, not for gratitude and awards and thank you's.

However, as he thought about it more, the more he wanted to see her. Her family name was Kelly. Obviously, she was not Jewish. His name, lebowitz was unmistakably Jewish. "If I do visit her," he thought to himself, "it would be a wonderful Kiddush Hashem, for she will surely realise that a Jew saved her life. That's important in the long run. Let her see that the Jewish people are compassionate to everyone."

As Dr. Lebowitz walked to her room he wondered how he should introduce himself. As soon as he knocked and entered, though, he did not have to say a word. A man sitting next to her called out, "That's the guy! He is the one! He is the guy who saved your life! He is the one I was telling you about!"

Dr. Lebowitz asked him who he was. He hadn't seen him before. "I am her husband," the man replied. "I saw how you worked to save my wife's life."

"Where were you during the whole thing?" Dr. Lebowitz asked him.

"I was with her when it happened, but then they whisked me out of the room, so I was watching from behind the glass wall."

The woman began crying uncontrollably.  Dr. Lebowitz stood there somewhat embarrassed waiting for her to compose herself. When she finally did, she spoke softly and said words that Dr. Lebowitz won't ever forget.

"What do I say? Thank you? That's what you say to someone who holds a door open for you, not to someone who has just given you back your life. But I will tell you this. When I go home and see my children, I will remember you and say,'Thank you, Dr. Lebowitz.' In a week from now, when I take a walk with my husband, I will think of you and say, 'Thank you, Dr. Lebowitz.' The next time I go out with my friends, I will think of you and say, 'Thank you, Dr. Lebowitz,' and the next time I have a birthday, I will remember and say, 'Thank you, Dr. Lebowitz.'"

Her words were real, true, simple, gentle, yet powerful. So powerful.

When Dr. Lebowitz left the room, and he walked out into the hospital corridor, he stood still for a moment and said to no one and to anyone, "When I come home and see my wife and my family, I'm going to say, 'Thank you -Hashem.' The next time I daven and feel connected to Hashem, I will remember and say, 'Thank you, Rav Noach Weinberg.' The next time I learn Chumash I will say, 'Thank you, Rav Noach Weinberg.' The next time I walk up the stairs and don't get out of breath, I will say 'Thank you, Hashem'."

Dr. Lebowitz returned to the emergency room a humbled and grateful person.

For me the lesson of this story is, of course, gratitude, but also how one must not give up. Can you imagine if Dr. Lebowitz would have walked away with the other doctors? But, he didn't. He stayed. He believed. He tried his best. He gave it his all. He did it, and he made a Kiddush Hashem.

Let's try for the rest of this month, to give everything, or to at least give a little more to our service of Hashem. May our combined efforts send merits and blessing upon us and all the world and may He bring the Geula Sheleima very soon.