A rare happy post
Because it’s the holidays and not everything is crap.
Fearless reporting, a behind-the-curtains look at how journalism is made — and an unabashed point of view. Welcome to Chills.
It’s the holidays and so many things suck.
In this country, we’ve got the endless nightmare that is our political divide, women’s bodies being criminalized, soaring antisemitism and white nationalism ... there really is no end of things to be miserable about.
Then there’s what’s going on in the rest of the world: famine looming in Somalia, the forever war in Syria, the burning and freezing of the planet because of climate change ... . And, if we really want to get deep into the muck, let’s talk about Ukraine, and the global food and energy crisis Russia has caused with its invasion — not to mention the thousands upon thousands of soldiers and civilians who have been killed, wounded, displaced or disappeared.
Sufficiently miserable yet? Good. Because then the story I am about to tell you will only make you feel that much better.
Many of you have seen my posts about raising money for a friend of mine in Ukraine. Vadim and I met over the summer in Kyiv, where he is a pediatric neurosurgeon who has operated on children wounded in the war. In the past few months, he has been at the frontlines as a medic. Meanwhile, his nearby hometown has been decimated by missiles and terrorized by Russian soldiers. His aunt was killed in an airstrike, as was his friend, who was returning home after his time in the military. His father refuses to leave his city, cooking on a camping stove because electricity was and still is scarce. A missile recently hit the building next to his.
Vadim is the kind of guy who would grab my body armor whenever he saw me lugging it. He’d insist on carrying my backpack after I’d pulled a muscle while bending over to photograph shot-up civilian cars. And somehow this gentility, which can get on my nerves in other cases, came across as utter kindness; maybe it’s because he is a caretaker by both trade and temperament. Polite yet with a wicked sense of humor, Vadim was a warm sun in my time there.
To recap for those of you who haven’t been following his situation: Vadim has a benign brain tumor. He told me about it while I was in Kyiv, but I never heard him complain. Only later would he tell me about the seizures and severe pain it causes. He’s had courses of radiation, but the tumor would only come back. And now he needs surgery.
A month or so ago, he told me he was having a very bad day. His seizures had become so common that his hospital would no longer allow him to operate. He could no longer work as a medic either, so instead he was ferrying medical supplies to his unit at the front. Worst of all, he needed about $3,000 to pay for the needed surgery — money he did and does not have. The legacy of Soviet-style socialized health care makes for meagre salaries for medical personnel.
I told him to give me a moment to see if I could raise some money for him. Within a few minutes, I’d created a GoFundMe. Within a few hours, total strangers had donated about $500. The generosity still astounds me. I was hopeful, but knew we had a ways to go. So I decided to tweet again about the fundraiser. A few minutes later, I checked the site. A single person had given $2,525, which brought the total to $3,000 (and beyond as others continued to donate).
Blown. Away. I was able to contact the donor, who told me he’d meant to be anonymous. He explained that he tries to give money to smaller causes where he can really make a direct difference. And, wow, he did.
I won’t get into the thank you videos of Vadim crying with happiness. Restoring his health means that he can again have a job and fight for his country — and that he can save the lives of countless children and soldiers. And that he will no longer have to suffer.
Vadim scheduled his surgery at a Warsaw hospital and began making arrangements to get there to start pre-op tests. But bureaucracy and the war prevented him from getting to Poland at the scheduled time. I’ll let Vadim explain: “Due to the fucking bureaucracy and the lack of electricity, the execution of all certificates and documents is very delayed. But I’m already at the finish line. And most likely, in a week I will be in Warsaw. I’m angry, but the thought of healing keeps me going.”
He was not there in a week.
Then a terrible surprise came a few days ago. The oncology clinic in Poland had just upgraded its equipment — what it calls a “cyber knife” — and the price for his surgery had just about tripled. While that’s still a third of what the operation would cost in the best Western European hospitals, and five to seven times less than it would cost in the U.S. (according to the Warsaw hospital), it was entirely out of reach for Vadim.
Because he is a man who likes his emojis, he wrote to me on Sunday: “It’s just fucking bullshit! 😤😑😔”
I asked him to hang on to see if I could raise more money for him. Within a few minutes, again, I’d updated the GoFundMe with this new information — setting the goal at $11,000. In the first hour, strangers donated $500, which I conveyed to Vadim.
“Electricity down..... Shit... 😤,” he wrote, disappearing into the ether.
By the time I went to bed that night, we were at $4,510, including the money raised the first time around.
On Monday, around 9 a.m. here in Seattle, I got an email with this subject line: “You reached your fundraising goal, Lauren.”
I sat there confused. Maybe it meant the initial $3,000?
I checked the website. An anonymous donor had given $6,500, allowing us to reach $11,000.
My jaw hung open.
And open.
It was the same man who’d given so much the last time.
Seeing that the electricity was down in Kyiv, I called my father. I could hear the smile in his voice. I had no words and just gaped at the screen as he spoke about how, like me, he needs to be reminded sometimes that there are truly good people in this world.
I left Vadim a voice message on WhatsApp.
When he was finally able to get online, after a day in which Kyiv was again hit with missiles, he replied: “Wow...🥲. It’s hard for me to hold back my tears... (You won't believe it, but I even put up for sale my household appliances and car 😞😒 because I didn’t know how to deal with this problem.)” He showed me a photo of an online listing of his printer for sale.
By then, we’d passed $11,500. Because it was more than he needs for his operation and radiation, he asked, “With your permission, I want to spend the rest of the money on military winter uniforms and thermal underwear and medicines for my guys from my battalion.” I told him that I couldn’t imagine that the people who donated wouldn’t appreciate that, and I sent out a message to the kind strangers who had given money. The total swelled to $11,900.
This was all two days ago. Little did I know that this day had any special significance in Ukraine, but here’s what Vadim told me:
“In Ukraine, we celebrate St. Nicholas Day on December 19th...! St. Nicholas Day is a very special day in our country and my city [redacted]!!”
St. Nicholas, the patron saint of Russia and Greece, was known for his generosity.
“This is,” Vadim wrote, “the greatest St. Nicholas Day in my life! 😭”
Thank you, friends. Thank you for giving this man his life back, for giving the lives of the people he will save back and for giving this cynical journalist and tired American a feeling of hope smack dab in the middle of the holidays. May you all be well and safe. Happy holidays.
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Lauren, Thank you for fighting for your friend. You did an amazing job. D
So wonderful to hear this story of strangers getting together to help someone else who deserves it! Thank you for your work and for keeping us updated!