Livingston Student Beats Coronavirus, Donates Blood Antibodies

LIVINGSTON, NJ — When the first wave of COVID-19 hit New Jersey, including his hometown of Livingston, Daniel Berger was studying abroad in Barcelona, Spain.

Berger – and other U.S. citizens in his shoes – were told to return to the country in March. But unfortunately for him, Berger says he brought back an unwelcome hitchhiker: the coronavirus.

“As a senior journalism student at the University of Maryland, I knew the best way to document my experience was to write about it as it happened,” Berger recently said. “I have since written a feature article about my battle with the virus and how I am giving back to those infected through antibody donations.”

The three-time donor shared his story with Patch, which can be read in full below. Do you have a story of recovery in Livingston? Send the details to eric.kiefer@patch.com.

Planes to Plasma: My COVID-19 Story

March 12, 2 a.m. (Central European Time) -- It’s a beautiful night in Barcelona; not too cold, not too hot. I am standing in line with my friends waiting to get into a club on the beach. Life is good. I then see dozens of American students exiting the club, one by one. Without explanation, my friend leaves too. What’s going on? I think to myself. I follow my friend outside. He frantically whips out his phone to make a phone call.

“What’s happening?” I ask him, concerned.

“Call your parents,” he answers.

Back in January, COVID-19 was the least of my concerns. If anything, I ignorantly thought of it as the punchline to dark jokes and internet memes. Seemingly out of nowhere, cases were reported in Europe. By the end of February, the CDC quickly upgraded Italy to an alert level 2. Several days later, Italy was upgraded to a level 3, at which point University of Maryland study abroad students in Italy were told to come home.

At this point I began to think ahead and see the true potential of this virus. I kept asking my parents “what’s the plan for when my program gets shutdown?” The response was always “we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” My teachers even started every lecture from that point on by saying they currently didn’t have a plan if classes were cancelled (but were working on one), and that each class could be the last in-person meeting. These comments made me anxious. I wanted some kind of backup plan.

A week and a half after Italy became a level 3 threat, I nervously watched as the number of victims in Spain started to rise, increasing from 200 to 500 to 800, then almost immediately to 2,000.

On that fateful morning (March 12th Central Europe Time) when President Trump essentially ordered those abroad to return home , I had a slight throat problem that I dismissed. Coronavirus is a chest and lung problem, my quick web search said. I stayed up until 5:00 a.m. discussing possible flights home with my parents and chatting with my friends. When I awoke at 11:00 a.m., I had severe knee pains and felt hot. Friday morning, the day I flew back to the United States, I felt hot again and had chills. When I got off the plane in New Jersey I ordered my parents not to touch me and I stayed away from them, unsure if I had COVID-19. Admittedly, I was a bit paranoid, overanalyzing any potential symptom I had and psyching myself out. Once I got home, every symptom was resolved and I was left with a minor cough, nothing worse than a cold. Still, I voluntarily quarantined myself and was not allowed to touch anything in the house, but I was no longer convinced I had coronavirus.

However, on Tuesday, March 17, a few days after coming home, I received a text from my classmate who I was in contact with in Barcelona. He told me that he had tested positive for COVID-19 and had endured the same symptoms I had. I made numerous phone calls to get an appointment to get tested. Despite meeting three important criteria (returning from a foreign country, having symptoms and being in contact with someone who tested), I still needed a referral from my doctor. After waiting for three hours in a car outside Morristown Memorial Hospital’s testing tents, I finally received a nose swab. After two more days of anxiously waiting, I received a call back from the hospital: I had tested positive for COVID-19.

A couple of hours after I tested positive, my town’s health center and the University of Maryland’s Health Center both called to interview me. For over an hour, they asked me questions such as who I was in contact with, everywhere I had been in the days before I showed symptoms and which flights I was on in the past week.

On March 27, I lifted my quarantine after being symptom free for a full week. One of my relatives works at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York, and she told us about the antibody testing that could lead to convalescent plasma donations. Fortunately, there have been many people reaching out to Mount Sinai for testing, but it has gotten to the point where the volume of donors is too high and the hospital is very backlogged. This was extremely frustrating. I saw dozens of individuals’ stories on CNN and I wanted to help them, but felt as though I was being held back. One woman, whose husband was in critical condition, reached out to our family friends to see if I could donate to him. Nothing would have made me happier, but the hospitals were out of sync with their donor requests. I finally got the earliest appointment I could receive for an initial antibody test on April 14, at which point the woman’s husband had thankfully recovered.

My sister and I drove through New York City’s vacant streets and got our testing done. A day later, on April 15, I found out my antibody titer was 960, which well exceeded the Hospital’s then minimum donation level of 320.

Although I was eligible to donate, finding a blood organization that would allow me to donate proved more difficult than expected. It took another week for one organization, New York Blood Center, to call me back. Fortunately, I was able to schedule a donation appointment for the next week on April 29.

At my convalescent plasma donation, I was not allowed in to the center without a mask. They twice took my temperature and screened me with a dozen questions. After about an hour, they started with the donation, and they drew 600mL of my plasma over the course of 40 minutes. I have since donated my plasma two more times and have been encouraging others to consider donating as well.

When I was first diagnosed with COVID-19, I was unsure if I wanted to tell anyone outside my inner-circle. It was slightly embarrassing and I knew people would be scared to be near me after I recover. However, I thought it was essential to share the news of the antibody plasma treatments, in the hopes that others will donate and potentially save more lives. I urge anyone who has tested positive to consider donating, and that those who are still healthy to please stay at home for both your safety and others’ as well.

Quarantine is boring. I get that. But if everyone continues to social distance, the number of new cases will hopefully decline sooner than expected and we can return to normalcy.

Send local news tips and correction requests to eric.kiefer@patch.com

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