Subscribe to our Newsletter


click to dowload our latest edition

Without support, COVID-19 V2 would have broken me

Published

on

Featured Item

My beloved Jonathan, our two boys, our household staff, and I battled the COVID-19 V2 variant. Of all of us, it hit me the hardest. I knew it would, and I was grateful, because my youngest is asthmatic, so rather me than him.

Jon went down first with a few days of exhaustion and aches. His breathing and oxygen stayed strong. The boys were so mild, it barely registered. Thank goodness!

It hit me the following Friday night, exactly seven days from a positive confirmation. All of a sudden, I had a chest cough, tough breathing, and my oxygen levels dropped from 98 to 94, to 93. I started “proning [moving onto my stomach to assist breathing]” more often than not, slept the entire weekend away, and didn’t leave the bedroom.

On Monday, Jon woke me up to take my readings, and my temperature was so bad, I didn’t know where/who/how I was. My oxygen was at 83, and nothing would bring it up. My GP insisted that I be hospitalised.

In the basement of the hospital parking lot, I waited alone for hours on oxygen after Jon and the boys had to leave. All around me there were gasping patients, screaming patients, crying patients. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes closed, had a private conversation with G-d about the world, life, growth, and gratitude.

Once I got a trauma bed, I waited many hours between disposable COVID-19 hospital curtains hearing healthcare workers running up and down – having idle chit chat in between wasn’t a possibility. Three patients came in while I was there. Two of them died on either side of me.

The healthcare workers barely took a minute to breathe before moving to the next emergency. They didn’t attempt to resuscitate. They couldn’t. The patients were too far gone.

As much as I wanted the medical attention, I could see others were more desperate, and so I waited longer, patiently, grateful to have any medical support at all.

The second lot of tests came back, saying my clotting factor was higher, as were the infectious markers. It was deemed that I was at risk for a pulmonary embolus. But there weren’t enough beds for me, and the other patients were in worse condition.

So, I was injected with something to thin out my blood, my oxygen was stabilised, and I was sent packing at 02:00 with a nod and a very sincere “Good luck, come back if you can’t breathe again. Until then, we can’t help you”.

There were no Ubers available – or at least none accepting my request from a hospital in the middle of the night – so Jon had to leave our boys home alone in bed and race to fetch me. We had no other choice. Luckily the hospital was only three kilometres away.

At home, through the night, my family and friends got together to help. My mom (with the help of all the extended family arranging solutions) dropped off oxygen. Other precious people fed us for days, or sent care packs and flowers. Still other people we love shipped at least a quarter of a Woolies over to us, which we will probably still be eating for weeks to come. We had so many people checking in on us all the time, wanting to know if we were okay.

I’ve been on bedrest, taking lots of strong steroids, cortisone, and blood thinners. I’m exhausted all the time, but I’ve stopped writing out childcare instructions for after my death. I genuinely thought I was going to die. But, G-d-willing, I’m not going anywhere yet.

The third set of blood results, received this morning, show that the infection markers are down, and clotting isn’t as risky as it was. I was on and off oxygen, but mostly breathing alone after that. I’m nowhere near what I was pre-COVID-19, but I know this will take some time. I’m far better than I was last week.

Poor Jon, who had barely recovered, was once again (the third time in our six-year marriage thus far) forced into looking after me while I had to be on bed rest and was totally useless. He looked after the children, arranged meals, meds, teas, steams, and communication with our worried loved ones. He did it all with no complaints, just very early bedtimes and lots of love. He is truly an amazing husband and father.

I can see why anxiety plays a hand in these COVID-19 deaths. I would have been broken without the reassurance, support, love, and daily check-ins from our shul friends, Hatzolah Medical Rescue Johannesburg’s extended Umhlanga team, our wonderful doctor who WhatsApped me through to 01:00 some nights, our family, and friends.

Without them, this would have broken me mentally, like it has so many others lost to COVID-19. It’s been so scary.

Please be careful, even on shared property home ground or at the office with the people you see daily. Treat everyone as a risk. Don’t let your guard down. Wear your mask!

  • Sheena Kretzmer is a mom of two boys and managing director of a social media agency. She and her family relocated from Johannesburg to Umhlanga a few weeks before lockdown and COVID-19 hit South Africa.

Continue Reading
1 Comment

1 Comment

  1. Anne Hart

    Jan 28, 2021 at 11:27 am

    Thanks for sharing your story, I think so many of people are suffering from pandemic burnout and are tending to take chances, but I will carry your story in my memory of how scary it must have been for you to have been left on your own in the basement of a hospital parking lot listening to the tragic sounds surrounding you and not knowing if you would come out of the situation alive. This is the reality of Covid!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Featured Item

Never bored at the board: Kacev reflects on 17 years of education

Published

on

For 17 years, Rabbi Craig Kacev deftly steered the South African Board of Jewish Education (SABJE) to financial sustainability, talent development, and academic excellence. And then last week, he fulfilled a lifelong dream.

He and his wife, Yael, joined 286 overjoyed Ethiopian Jews making aliyah. Speaking to the SA Jewish Report from his quarantine hotel in Haifa, Kacev reflected on his time at the SABJE.

A son of Pretoria, Kacev matriculated at Carmel College. He spent various periods studying in Israel and graduated with a B Compt from the University of South Africa. He was rabbi of the West Street Shul in Johannesburg for 12 years.

In 1996, he was approached by Rabbi Isadore Rubinstein to fill in for a teacher at King David Linksfield. Admitting that he was highly intimidated and uncertain of his ability to succeed, he took on the role, which he enjoyed, and became hooked on education. He taught Jewish Studies and some Business Studies and Accounting for two years, and was then made head of Jewish Studies at King David Victory Park.

The SABJE saw his potential. He was appointed acting director in September 2003 at the age of 32. The late Mendel Kaplan – a celebrated Jewish communal leader – asked Kacev to lunch at Shula’s Restaurant in Rosebank. “Mendel told me I was too young for the job, and not ready. I replied that Rabbi Moshe Isserles was appointed Chief Rabbi of Krakow at the age of 18. He too was young, but commented that he would get better at it every day.”

Kaplan committed to mentoring Kacev. “I got good community support from the word go.” Kacev became SABJE director in July 2004, among a young crop of communal leaders including schoolmate Chief Rabbi Dr Warren Goldstein, Michael Seeff, and Wendy Kahn.

Kacev giggled as he recalled indelible memories, many of which he “can’t repeat”. Once, the hydraulics failed on a school bus transporting learners from Yom Ha’atzmaut at Gold Reef City. The driver minimised damage by rolling backwards onto a bowling green and crashing into a pole. “When I got that call, I rushed to the scene, heart thumping,” Kacev said. “Thank G-d everyone was fine. It was a wake-up call about managing risk. We ordered new buses, and I learned that you can’t compromise on safety.”

He recalls convincing President Thabo Mbeki and Education Minister Naledi Pandor at the Union Buildings to retain Hebrew on the curriculum. But then, a rumour spread that Kacev was trying to ditch the subject. About 200 high school students marched on his office, demanding that Hebrew be retained. “That misunderstanding strengthened my faith in the system. Students were so passionate about their Jewish identity.”

The Josh Broomberg Affair in 2014 (when the pupil wore a keffiyeh at an international debating event during the Gaza War to support the Palestinians and the photo went viral) was a mammoth challenge.

“King David became a political football, and the community was angry. I received two petitions with 10 000 signatures each, for and against Broomberg’s actions. I was grateful for my board in those tough times. We headlined The Star twice that year!

“It’s much easier to resolve student conflicts than parent conflicts,” he said. Kacev had to mediate after a parent slapped a school secretary, who laid assault charges. He had to separate fighting parents at the tuckshop, and often dealt with grandstanding divorced spouses. One parent drove over another’s foot. He once had to lock a parent out of the school. He also found a huge beehive, where a teacher hoped to produce honey, tucked away on the edge of one of the schools.

“For every mad story, there were 100 good stories – kind parents, heroic teachers, and amazing kids who looked after their friends.”

So what kept him at the SABJE for 17 years? “King David schools offered a dynamic and ever-changing environment. I could never get bored. I had to keep checking myself, make sure I was making a difference. I got the opportunity to contribute and serve, and do big things while learning from some superb board members about leadership.

“I stayed because I learned so many new things,” Kacev said. “I became a transport manager, a school-uniform designer. I learned about legal issues in schools, and could use my financial background.” The secret to success is having policies and systems that are clear, he said.

The SABJE had precarious finances, with aging, neglected infrastructure when he took over. “I’m proud that in the past 17 years, we have always broken even and have invested substantially in facilities.”

Kacev visited the United States to see where King David schools could be improved. “Our mantra became ‘the best teachers, with the best curriculum in the most appropriate facilities’.” Building collegiality between the sometimes-competitive schools was also a priority.

“When the community was steadily shrinking and shul attendance was declining, schools became a centre for perpetuating Jewish identity,” Kacev says.

The schools sought to nurture Jewish leadership, and he’s proud of the learnership programme that has supported almost 40 ex-Davidians to become young, dynamic teachers.

“Building King David Ariel fulfilled another dream. We wanted a high-quality Jewish remedial school, and it has exceeded our most optimistic models. It’s so gratifying.”

He is most proud of receiving the 2014 Max M Fisher Prize for outstanding Jewish educators in the diaspora. “It was a big moment to receive the award from Natan Sharansky in Israel.”

“The year 2020 was another good example of amazing leadership and a supportive board. Looking back, I think we closed the schools too early, and closed the country too early. You must balance social, academic, health, and financial considerations. There’s no perfect decision. The department of basic education further confused things, being slow, gazetting unclear regulations, constantly making changes.”

Once online learning got going, it had to be in partnership with parents. “COVID-19 was like an MRI – it exposed our underlying societal problems. It did allow us to push technology. We leapt two or three years in six months. We will increasingly see technology used in teaching.”

Kacev is confident in handing the reins to his replacement, Rabbi Ricky Seeff. “He’s a King David graduate himself, creative, and the man for the moment. Having him in place made it much easier to leave South Africa.”

Kacev plans to stay in education. He is helping the SABJE develops its Chumash curriculum, mentoring and coaching South African educators and others, and managing a project on Jewish thinking skills. By May, he should be involved in a Jewish education programme with worldwide impact.

His final message is not to take our Jewish schools and communal institutions for granted. We need to support these bodies to sustain the vibrancy and viability of the South African Jewish community.

Continue Reading

Featured Item

Matrics of 2021 ready to roll with the punches

Published

on

After watching the matrics of 2020 endure a rollercoaster year, the class of 2021 are expecting their final year of school to be filled with similar ups and downs. However, they’re ready to take it on the chin and see the positive side of matric in the shadow of a pandemic.

Jonty Schkolne, 17, the deputy head student at Herzlia High School, says, “I think we all know that this year will be different. It even started off differently as we did online lessons for the first two weeks of this year. Luckily, we have experience in different types of school years, and will be able to adapt to anything that life throws at us.”

At the same time, he’s hoping for a relatively normal year, “as matric is supposed to be one of the best years of your school career. I hope that we are able to experience all the highlights of the year, with minimal interference from COVID-19.” Schkolne is concerned about the possible cancellation of matric milestones like the matric dance, “but the matrics of 2021 are used to a bit of disappointment and are expecting that maybe some of our events will be cancelled or look different to previous years”.

“I’m grateful to say that if schools do suddenly close, I would be able to continue at home,” Schkolne says. “I spent the majority of last year doing school online, and I know what works for me. My school is also able to provide proper online lessons and resources, and I feel that I get just as much out of an online lesson as I do in a physical lesson at school.”

On not being able to socialise, he says, “Obviously, nothing is the same as seeing my friends at school, but luckily there are many other ways to socialise online – through social media and WhatsApp. Last year, I didn’t see one of my best friends for five months, but we made the effort to video call and keep in touch.

“We’re all taking it day by day and trying not to worry about the effect COVID-19 will have on our matric year,” he says. “We are kept so busy with tests, assignments, and assessments, we don’t really have time to think about the ‘what ifs’.”

But Dani Furman, 17, at Edenvale High School in Johannesburg, fears going back to school online. For her, the pandemic might mean “not being able to finish the syllabus on time, and not getting enough face-to-face interaction that we would usually get in the school year”. She says she finds online learning stressful, and government schools in particular may have to shut down suddenly.

“During lockdown last year, our school didn’t offer much of an online aspect. We do have Google Classroom, but there’s no online teaching going on – it’s all self-study,” she says. “So, a lot of the time I was joining other school’s lessons, going over past papers, and doing revision, just to make sure I did the best I could. If we had to go into another lockdown, it obviously wouldn’t be ideal. And I really enjoy being in the classroom, communicating with my teachers, and asking questions.

“I would feel bad for the people around me,” Furman says, “because not everyone has access to facilities like Wi-Fi or computers. Some of my friends don’t have cell phones, computers, or books, so it’s very hard for them. They can’t even interact with friends, and it’s difficult to get the work. But the school assists them, and as friends, we help each other out.

“My hope is to do as well as I can, given the circumstances of COVID-19,” she says. “It’s a whole new world we’re living in and it’s tough to adapt to these changes and new ways of study. Obviously, everyone hoped the year would be normal, but I did accept that this year was going to be different. We’re still going to be wearing masks, we’re not going to be having close contact with people, and we can’t hug our friends when we see them – which is part of the school environment and just being human. I’m still accepting every day that things aren’t going back to normal anytime soon.”

Regarding missing milestones, Furman says, “In all honesty, the matric dance is the least of my concerns. All I want is to finish my school year, and for everyone to pass and do well.” Not seeing friends would be hard for her. “I’m very much a people person, I love interacting and seeing friends – I’m a social butterfly.” Under lockdown, she and friends with internet access met on a Zoom call once a week to catch up and check in with each other.

“If you managed to get through mentally last year, you got an ‘A’ in life,” she says. “It wasn’t about putting pen to paper, it was about being able to cope with the year.”

Shaina Resnik, 17, of King David Linksfield says, “My hope for my matric year is to reach my full academic potential but still have some balance and spend time with my friends and family doing things I love.

“I fear that I may not have the volunteering opportunities I would have had, and won’t be able to gain the experience that would aid me in the medical field due to the pandemic. I do fear that COVID-19 may mean the cancellation of major events like the matric dance, but it’s more important for everyone to be healthy.”

Although there has been endless debate about the merits of online learning, Resnik feels that a sudden switch to Zoom classes during her matric year probably wouldn’t trip her up. “I worked very well during online school [last year], and I found myself more productive and having more time for myself. However, I fear for the students who are less privileged than me as they don’t have the facilities for online school. If schools close, they will be at a huge disadvantage.”

If schools closed suddenly, she would miss seeing her friends each day. “However, I will keep in touch with them through WhatsApp and social media.” She points out that there are “definitely benefits to not being able to go out and socialise every weekend, as this will give me more time to focus on school work”.

Continue Reading

Featured Item

Frazzled matrics face last-minute choices

Published

on

After a mammoth wait for results, matriculants are now speedily preparing to go to university or take time out following what some have called the “worst year ever” to graduate from high school.

With exam results of both National Senior Certificate (NSC) and the Independent Examinations Board (IEB) coming out far later than previous years because of COVID-19 hurdles, school leavers are having to make a last-minute scramble to make plans for 2021.

It has been a week or two of crack decisions and a crazy run around for some, with life changing decisions about whether to work, study, or take a gap year. All of these decisions take months to plan normally, but only days or minutes in the time of coronavirus.

The much-anticipated gap year has taken many twists and turns as countries vacillate between opening and shutting international borders for travel and tourism.

These matriculants faced anxiety over their matric results to begin with, compounded by further stress about whether to register for university or not. Still unsure about whether their overseas gap year would materialise, they had to decide whether or not to register for university in case travelling became impossible.

“My son has faced his first real adult dilemma,” said Johannesburg social worker Stephanie Urdang, “to register in time for university or wait for Israel to eventually open its borders so that he can go on Limmud.

“He was accepted into the two university courses he applied for and needed to register for his degree. He only had a few days to decide whether to register or not. It was very stressful. It was a hard decision to make, but he is hopeful he made the right one.” His university registration process has now passed, so that makes it official – he won’t be studying this year. In the meantime, he waits.”

Stacey Swartzberg’s son is enrolled at the University of Nottingham in the United Kingdom (UK), and was going to Israel before the start of the UK academic year.

“All the delays have made his Israel plans unfeasible, so he has changed plans completely and is going to the University of Cape Town (UCT), where he will be with a lot of his friends. You can plan all you like, but COVID-19 has taught us that plans often come to naught.

“This week, there is more clarity, but now there is a rush to settle in Cape Town, find an apartment, rail a car, and sign a lease. It’s all very last minute,” said Swartzberg.

One Johannesburg mother who wished to remain anonymous is worried about getting her son to Cape Town on time before the start of the academic year at UCT.

“My son wasn’t sure he was going to get enough points for his desired course at UCT. He had to wait to hear from the university, which he did only a few days ago and fortunately, he did get into the course of choice. Now he is trying to find flat mates at the last minute and a place to live that’s affordable. He has only had a short time to do all this as orientation begins this week at UCT, and lectures begin in two weeks. These are all serious adult issues.”

Many matriculants received provisional acceptances from their universities of choice following applications made last year, but they weren’t guaranteed acceptance until the release of their matric results. It added to the stress of waiting.

One Johannesburg mother said her son, who obtained six distinctions, was anxious about being accepted into engineering at the University of the Witwatersrand (Wits). While he got more than enough points to get into his desired course, he didn’t receive provisional acceptance on his Grade 11 marks which were very good, she said.

“The long wait for matric results was torturous,” she told the SA Jewish Report this week.

“He was ecstatic when he did so well, but anxious about whether he did well enough. It was a huge relief for him when Wits made him a firm offer the day after the matric results came out, but the stress leading up to this was unforgettable. There are few places for students doing engineering and so many applications so you are never secure in your choice until the last minute.”

One King David student who also wishes to remain anonymous found the wait for matric results unbearable.

“I was very stressed. I wanted to study for a BCom at the University of Johannesburg and because I did maths literacy, I needed to outperform on my other subjects to acquire enough points to get in.

“Fortunately, I did very well, and I got in easily, but it was very stressful,” he told the SA Jewish Report. “Unlike many of my friends, I didn’t have the option of a gap year or to study in another city, so I really needed to work hard and make it happen. I was worried that I would need a plan B.”

Going into the big wide world is challenging and daunting at the best of times, but 2021 is on another level.

“A lot of kids are still debating whether to take a gap year after the horrendous year they had last year, just to have some time off. Kids are frazzled,” Urdang says. “I believe every kid who passed matric in 2020 is a hero. Some children thrived, and some slipped through the cracks. Many didn’t cope emotionally and academically.

“Besides learning on their own and pivoting to be online, they were surrounded by the stress of parents being retrenched, the loss of family members, people around them getting sick and not being able to visit them, huge financial worries, and of course, things like crime and youth unemployment have all taken their toll. They are heroes in my eyes.”

In years to come, writing matric in 2020 will be worn as a badge of honour.

987 words

Continue Reading

Trending