The 42-year-old Scottish pilot spent 68 days on a ventilator – longer than any other patient in the UK. This was not in his hometown of Motherwell, but in the vast and restless Ho Chi Minh City of Vietnam, with no friends or loved ones by his side. “Anywhere else on the planet I would have been dead by now. They would have just switched me off after 30 days,” says Stephen Cameron from his hospital bed.
Cameron is the last COVID patient in the intensive care unit in Vietnam, the most severe patient the local doctors have had to deal with. In a country of 95 million people, there were only 355 reported cases, fewer than ten patients in intensive care, and no deaths. Cameron’s case was so unusual that his progress was covered in local newspapers and television news broadcasts. Now in Vietnam, he is known as Patient 91 – a nickname given to him by officials in March when he fell ill.
“I am very touched that people in Vietnam cared so much about my illness,” says Cameron. “But I am especially grateful to those tenacious doctors who did not want me to die during their shift.” Dozens of Vietnamese intensivists held regular conference calls to discuss Cameron’s condition. “A small number of patients in the ICU means that those who are seriously ill have received consultations from the best specialists in the country,” says Dr. Kidong Park, WHO representative in Vietnam.
For most of the two and a half months that Cameron was in a medically induced coma, he was dependent on an ECMO machine. It is used only in the most severe cases, when survival is at stake. The machine takes in the patient’s blood, saturates it with oxygen, and pumps it back out. “I am a lucky person. The only thing is that I still can’t walk, but I do physiotherapy twice a day,” says Cameron.
“At one point, the State Department told my friend Craig that I had a 10% chance of surviving. So he prepared for the worst: he gave up my flat and made the preparations that are usually made when someone comes home in a coffin. Since Cameron awoke from his coma, he has had several emotional phone conversations with his loved ones, who had “given up hope that he would ever come home.
Doctors had to deal with numerous complications while Cameron was in a coma. Blood clotting led to the formation of blood clots. Kidney failure occurred and dialysis was required. Lung volume decreased to 10%.
“When the press reported that I needed a lung transplant, many people offered their lungs, including a 70-year-old Vietnam War veteran. But it probably wouldn’t have worked out well for him,” says Cameron. Despite this support and the hundreds of thousands of dollars spent on Cameron’s treatment, the initial reaction to a positive coronavirus test was quite different.
Cameron fell ill just weeks after arriving in Vietnam in early February. Like many pilots, he went to Asia to make more money in the region’s rapidly developing aviation industry. Two days before his first flight with Vietnam Airlines, and the day before all the bars and clubs in Ho Chi Minh City closed, he met a friend at an expat bar in the city’s elite district. At the time, Vietnam had fewer than 50 confirmed cases, but according to Professor Guy Thwaites, director of clinical research at the University of Oxford in Ho Chi Minh City and an adviser on infectious diseases, the country had already developed a “healthy respect and fear of the virus.
On the weekend before St. Patrick’s Day, the Buddha Bar and Grill was packed with people in Irish costume. Cameron arrived after 10 p.m. “I don’t drink, so I mostly hung out in the corner, played a few games of pool, and went home about 3:15 in the morning,” Cameron recalls. The next day after the flight, he had a fever, and 12 other bar patrons tested positive for coronavirus. The locals showed no sympathy for those infected. The press identified the “Buddha” bar as the epicenter of the outbreak, which was the largest coronavirus outbreak in South Vietnam: 20 people were infected directly and indirectly.
Some people on social media blamed Cameron for visiting the landmarks. There was no evidence that Cameron caused the outbreak. However, a well-known businessman in Vietnam, Luong Noai Nam, called Patient 91 a “time bomb” and called for the deportation of foreigners who broke the rules, which gained significant support on social media. “I thought there was a desire to link the outbreak specifically to me because I had come from abroad, from Bangkok, a week before,” says Cameron. He is confident that he contracted the disease in a bar and was not the source of the infection. “But I was the first to say I was sick. It was impossible to avoid accusations. On March 18, Cameron was admitted to the local hospital with a positive test. Authorities quickly closed the bar and isolated everyone in the apartment building where he lived. In total, about 4,000 people have been tested in connection with the outbreak linked to the “Buddha” bar.
“The patient’s condition was deteriorating very rapidly,” recalls Professor Luong Ngoc Hue, who works in the COVID group of the Vietnamese Ministry of Health and provided consultation during Cameron’s treatment. “The condition of his lungs, liver, kidneys, and blood supply were deteriorating. Cameron’s condition was deteriorating, and he remembers asking to be put on a ventilator. “I was exhausted, I couldn’t sleep, and I kept thinking, ‘Just hook me up and figure it out,'” he says. He spent several weeks in a coma, during which time doctors desperately searched for ways to cure him. Meanwhile, other patients in intensive care recovered and were discharged home.
Meanwhile, Cameron’s case gained widespread publicity, and leading politicians promised to make every effort to pay the hospital bills. “My recovery could score political points for Vietnam, especially since the statistics of infected people in the country are phenomenal,” says Cameron. Professor Hugh says that everyone – Vietnamese and foreigners alike – had access to quality medical care. “We focused on treating patients at the highest level – both in terms of the qualifications of the medical staff and the capabilities of the hospitals, regardless of whether they were Vietnamese or from abroad,” he says. The number of offers should remain the same: 49 out of 50 foreign patients recovered and were discharged.
When Stephen Cameron was put on a ventilator in early April, there were just over one million infected people in the world. By the time he regained consciousness on June 12, there were more than seven million infected. Vietnam, however, managed to avoid significant losses: since April 16, not a single case of infection has been recorded. “I never imagined it would take me 10 weeks to recover. I remember being brought back to consciousness, I remember having a tracheotomy, I remember being wheeled through the hospital corridors – and the next few days were like a haze.
Now, Cameron is in a private room at Cho Ray Hospital in another part of Ho Chi Minh City, recovering after being taken off a ventilator. He is trying to cope with the effects of the illness, which has left him immobile for several weeks. He has lost 20 kilograms, and his muscles have weakened to the point that even bending his leg a few centimeters requires tremendous effort. Since regaining consciousness, he has suffered from depression and chronic fatigue, as well as the fear that post-traumatic syndrome could strike at any moment.
“I have experienced a lot. All I want to do now is go back home. What I miss most is peace and quiet. The scooters are always making noise here, and the rainy season has started. Fifteen degrees at home is what I need.
In recent weeks, Cameron has received visits not only from doctors and nurses, but also from high-ranking diplomats, government officials and politicians. Recent visitors have included the British Consul and the Speaker of the National Assembly.
Stephen Cameron, Chairman of the People’s Assembly and British Consul, holds a scarf bearing the name of Stephen Mothrewella’s hometown. He remembers the mayor saying that he would soon return to England. “I told him that if I go back to England, they’ll leave me there, I’ll have to go to Scotland, and that’s another 700 kilometers”.
There is also a practical side to his desire to return: rehabilitation is complicated by the fact that almost no one in the hospital speaks English. And rehabilitation after a patient has spent so much time in intensive care is a particularly difficult process and can take several years. The hospital where Cameron is currently located is one of the oldest medical institutions in the country, having been founded in colonial times. “I feel like I am occupying a place that someone who is really sick needs.”
Cameron’s treatment is far from free. The ECMO machine costs between $5,000 and $10,000 per day, and Cameron needed it for eight and a half weeks. Constant arguments about who will pay for expensive treatments cause him stress and distract him from rehabilitation. His treatment at the tropical disease hospital was covered by his work insurance, but the question of who will pay for his treatment at the last hospital remains unanswered.
So Steven Cameron learns to walk. A seat was reserved for Cameron on a Vietnam Airlines flight on July 12. The planes are still flying, bringing Vietnamese citizens home from Europe. But Cameron doesn’t understand why he has to wait so long, since doctors cleared him to travel a week ago. “I became a celebrity, and now the authorities are dealing with my affairs.”