Teacher from Lynbrook back from the brink of coronavirus

At 1 a.m. on March 31, Lynbrook resident Jared Berry experienced what he called his most frightening moment as a coronavirus patient at North Shore University Hospital in Manhasset.

He awoke hazily to a nurse asking him to take a few deep breaths, followed by eight members of a rapid response team calling his name. His fever spiked to 104 and his oxygen levels dropped. He did not know what was happening.

"I don't remember too much," Berry said. "I was scared. I was aware of what was going on, but the scary thing was just wondering what they were going to do. What was scarier was just how they were each trying to call my name and get my attention. That was worrisome, and I knew something was clearly not good."

The medical staff placed a facemask on Berry's head to pump more oxygen into him and turned him on his stomach to help his lungs receive oxygen. They also placed bags of ice over him to reduce his fever and stabilize him. When he awoke the next morning, he could eat solid food, but had to remove the oxygen mask, take a bite of the food, swallow it and put the mask back on for a few moments to pump oxygen back into his system.

For Berry, 32, a music teacher for ninth- through 12th-graders at Manhasset High School, the symptoms began on the evening of March 21, when he started to feel feverish and had a high temperature. Two days later, he went to the doctor's office and was tested for strep throat, the flu and pneumonia, which he did not have. After a visit to Urgent Care and two trips to the emergency room at North Shore University Hospital over the ensuing days as his symptoms worsened, Berry was admitted to the facility after testing positive for the virus. He said before contracting the virus, he had no underlying conditions.

When he was admitted on March 29, he recalled that his shortness of breath was so severe that he became winded when he had to get out of a stretcher and walk three feet, with assistance, to a hospital bed.

On April 1, the day after the scare, Berry gave doctors his consent to place him in a clinical trial, and they administered a rheumatoid arthritis medicine, Sarilumab, which he received intravenously for an hour, to flush his immune system. After that, his fever broke.

Five days later, Berry could finally breathe without the assistance of a ventilator, and he was brought to a windowless auditorium that was converted into a large medical room for coronavirus patients, which he compared to military barracks. Berry said there were about 40 stretchers and cots in the room, each separated by a white screen on the side, and each having an oxygen tank.

With call bells constantly ringing and the sound of patients coughing and sneezing echoing through the cramped auditorium, Berry said it was hard for him to sleep. The issue was exacerbated by the 6-foot-7 Berry having to cram his frame into a bed that was too small for him, with his feet dangling off the edge.

"It was never filled to the point where every bed was filled, but there was a constant in-and-out of people," Berry said of the room. ". . . The stretcher wasn't very comfortable, but it was the better choice. My legs could hang off, while the cot, I would be squished on."

He was comforted, however, when he later discovered that being moved to the auditorium was a step toward being discharged. On April 7, his vitals were improving, and a nurse came by and asked him to walk for the first time in 10 days.  It was a difficult task.

"Once I was standing up, it took me a moment to realize my full height again and then just getting my legs to move," he said. "The first two steps took me a little while just because my legs had felt so heavy from not moving at all in the bed, but it almost felt liberating to just put one foot ahead of the other. It almost felt like each one was dragging something behind it, that's how heavy it felt."

With the thought of going home motivating him, Berry slowly willed himself to walk, despite the difficulty and his shortness of breath.

The following day, Berry said he was feeling hopeful that he would be discharged. His oxygen level and blood pressure were good, and his fever was gone. His heart rate, however, was high. After an EKG showed no issues, the staff requested he stay one more day for observation, and Berry listened to music on his phone to calm his nerves and stay positive mentally after taking an emotional hit.

"That was probably the peak of my emotions," he said. "It's hard because you try to do everything in your power to try to calm yourself down. It's one of those things; the more you think of it, the worse it sort of gets."

On April 9, he had a CAT scan to rule out blood clots.  At 1:30 p.m., a moment he had longed for finally came, as he was able to start looking over his discharge papers. He described the moment as "exciting beyond belief," and that afternoon, after an 11-day ordeal at the hospital, Berry went home.

He is now in the middle of a two-week self-quarantine, but he said he is keeping in touch with friends, family and his students over FaceTime and Zoom video conferencing. He said he still has a cough and has struggled to sing, but he is working each day on restoring his voice. He also shared his story on his website, jaredberry.com, and asked his students to read it so that they understand the virus should not be taken lightly and social distancing is important.

Berry said the experience taught him a great deal, including the importance of heeding health officials' warnings and a new appreciation for front-line workers. "People need to stay home," he said. "If you're going out, make sure it's because you have to and you're wearing a mask. Wash your hands and appreciate everyone who's a first responder. Those were my takeaways."