Miracle in Isolation: A Shabbat Release That Defied All Odds

About six months ago, I was diagnosed with a serious form of cancer. I began chemotherapy and eventually underwent a bone marrow transplant. As part of the treatment, I had to stay in full isolation in the hospital for a month. For thirty days, I was cut off from the world, with only short visits from my wife and children. I was very weak, too weak to read or study and the suffering from the treatments was beyond words. To stay connected spiritually, I asked to have the Hidabroot TV channel installed in my room. That way, even when I didn’t have the strength to open a book, I could still watch holy content especially the emunah (faith) classes by Rabbi Yigal Cohen.

As the end of the hospitalization drew near, I looked at the calendar and realized that the first night of Pesach, the Seder night, was on Monday. My heart sank. It looked like I would be spending it in the hospital. I couldn’t bear the thought. I pleaded with the doctors: at least release me for Shabbat HaGadol, the Shabbat before Pesach. I felt I needed that Shabbat at home to strengthen myself spiritually before the chag (holiday). The doctors smiled sadly. In their eyes, there was no way I’d be released from isolation without full recovery. “It just doesn’t happen,” they said.

That’s when I remembered what Rabbi Yigal Cohen teaches in his shiurim (lessons). I turned to Hashem with all my heart. For three nights, sometimes crying, sometimes singing with joy, I thanked Him for all the good He gives me from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. I thanked Him for my wife, my children, my job, and the abundance in my life. I tried to name every little thing, knowing it was only a tiny drop in the ocean of His kindness. And then, after giving thanks, I asked Hashem to continue showering me with goodness as a free gift. I asked Him to show the doctors that He is the One Who decides everything, and to let me go home for Shabbat HaGadol. And I would fall asleep while praising Hashem.

Then something unexpected happened. I suddenly developed a high fever, and they began giving me three doses of strong antibiotics every day through IV. It looked like the door had shut even tighter, this kind of treatment goes for four uninterrupted days. The last day of the course would be Sunday, right after Shabbat. My heart should’ve sunk, but it didn’t. I truly believed that this was somehow part of Hashem’s plan to let me go home. From that moment on, I behaved with total trust (emunah shleimah) that Hashem had accepted my tefillah (prayer), and that I would be released.

When my wife came to visit on Thursday, I told her to pack up all my belongings and take them home. “I’m going to be released for Shabbat,” I said. She believed me too though she asked to leave behind the candlesticks, just in case. I agreed, for the sake of shalom bayit (peace in the home). I also told my children I would be home for Shabbat. That’s how much I believed.

Then on Friday, at 5:30 a.m. when the hospital’s daily routine starts, the doctor entered my room. He took blood and started connecting the IV. I turned to him. “Avi,” I said, he's a man with strong faith, “I asked Hashem to release me for Shabbat. And Hashem has decided to approve it.” He looked at me with compassion. A tear rolled from his eye. “Uri,” he said gently, “it’s not possible. You need this treatment three times a day until Sunday. There’s no way you can be released.” And he left.

A few minutes later, he came back. He looked more determined. “There’s an infectious disease specialist in the department today. I’ll go consult with him.” At that moment, I felt my tefillah had been answered. I called my wife. “Get ready to pick me up.” I was overwhelmed with emotion, crying tears of joy. I couldn’t even explain myself clearly.

At 12:00 p.m., a female doctor entered my room. “We’ve decided to make a special medication that combines all three doses into one,” she said. “You’ll get one dose today, one after Shabbat, and one on Sunday.” That was it. They began the process to release me. They explained what was allowed and not allowed, and I gave my word that if I felt even the slightest fever, I would return immediately even on Shabbat. That’s what Hashem wants: to protect life above all. Before she left, the doctor smiled and said, “What a crazy team, releasing a patient in isolation for Shabbat.” I smiled back and said, “It’s not the medical team. It’s the Manager of the world.”

And that’s exactly what happened. I was released for Shabbat, returned on Motzaei Shabbat (Saturday night), and then, after Sunday’s upgraded dose and final blood tests, I received an incredible gift: I was discharged permanently. I spent Seder night at home with my family, just as I had prayed for. I had left the hospital in my clothes and everything else had already been packed up on Thursday.

Today, I’m still in recovery. It’s a process that takes a full year, and I’m about halfway through. Baruch Hashem (thank God), about a month ago I started going back to work, and two weeks ago I was allowed to meet people again. I’m still weak physically, but I’m on the way up with Hashem’s help.