Hospitalized at Freedom Convoy

Sarah tells her rescue story.

I’ve known BJ since mid 2019. From the first time we connected, it didn’t take long before we became fast friends. We not only bonded over politics and carried similar world views, but he’s quite hilarious and a kind-hearted person. BJ is also just one of those people that if you ever needed help or someone to talk to, he would drop what he was doing to be there for you.

This is the very reason when I got a call from him on February 3rd, 2022, asking me if I can pick him up in Kemptville (approximately 60km west of Ottawa) because he was just in a car accident, I dropped what I was doing and I went to get him.

I pulled up to the Tim Hortons where the police officer that attended to his car accident had dropped him off. I see BJ walking towards the car looking pale and exhausted. He informs me that he just finished a live interview with Louder with Crowder. I couldn’t believe it. If I had hit black ice and ended up in a ditch totalling my car, I probably would have canceled like I’m sure most of us would have done. However, he explained that it was critical to do these interviews and get the messaging out about the Freedom Convoy.

I brought BJ back to my place hoping he would get some rest, but he opened his laptop and went straight to work. I told him he needed to relax but he explained that he had so much to do, and being the spokesperson for the Freedom Convoy, he didn’t want anything to lapse that would affect the truckers or getting the messaging out across social media channels. I didn’t realize at the time, but what I witnessed that day was only a taste of how insanely chaotic his days would be during the protest and once he left downtown Ottawa.

The next morning, I dropped him off at the Sheraton Hotel in downtown Ottawa. We talked about grabbing dinner that evening, so I told him to message me later and we’ll go from there. He messaged me early evening to invite me to have dinner, but I was so tired from my workday, I asked for a rain check. Not quite two hours later, I get another message from him saying he’s on his way to the hospital and he thinks he’s broken his ankle. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I ask him if anyone is going with him, and he said no.

I am not a doctor, but I grew up with a few family members in the medical profession. I knew from my own hospital experiences and from the stories I heard from family, that if he broke his ankle, it would likely be a long hospital visit on top of the fact that it’s winter and he would need someone to carry his jacket, etc. I also knew that he would likely be in a lot of pain, and it would be hard for him to concentrate and listen to everything the doctor says. Plus, who wants to sit in a hospital by themselves for hours on end and no one there to keep them company.

Paramedics arrive at the ARC hotel to examine BJ

Soon after the first message, BJ texts me again and confirms the hospital he’s being taken to in Ottawa. I proceed to pack an over night bag and called an Uber.

I arrive at the hospital, and I let the front staff know that I’m here for Benjamin Dichter. They inform me he is currently having x-rays done of his foot and they will bring him out when he’s done. Not quite a half hour later, they bring him over to me in a wheelchair and advise me that they will call for him when they have an examination room ready.

While sitting with him and waiting for a room to be ready, I couldn’t help but chuckle. You could tell he was a little loopy, talking a bit slower and his eyes slightly glassy. He explains that while he was waiting for someone to drive him to the hospital, one of the truckers from the convoy gave him a Percocet. If you don’t know what a Percocet is, it’s quite a powerful painkiller (contains an opioid pain reliever called, oxycodone and a non-opioid pain reliever, acetaminophen). From what he has shared with me before, he has never done drugs. I also know he barely drinks alcohol, so I couldn’t help but enjoy this moment.

We finally get called in to one of the examination rooms. While we are waiting for the doctor, BJ pulls out his phone and starts tweeting. I ask him “Are you sure you want to be tweeting in the state you are in?” He’s replies “I’m fine. It’s all good. People need to know what’s happened to me and that I didn’t just disappear.” I laughed but I wasn’t convinced. I silently hoped he was with it enough not to write something he would regret tomorrow.

After a few hours waiting in the examination room, a doctor comes in and informs BJ that he has badly broken his ankle in a few places and will need surgery. He asks if he would like to have the surgery in Toronto (where he lives) or Ottawa. Since BJ’s right foot was broken, his car totaled and knowing Ottawa hospitals are staffed with excellent surgeons, I told the doctor that he will have the surgery here and I will take care of him.

In the meantime, while BJ waits for a surgical date, they were required to reset his ankle and put a cast on him. This was crucial to ensure he didn’t damage the ankle further before surgery. The Respiratory Therapist, who would be assisting in putting BJ under, asks him if he is on any medications, does drugs recreationally, etc. BJ says no and adds that he barely drinks alcohol. I watch the Respiratory Therapist as he eyes him in a way that told me he wasn’t entirely convinced but he left it at that. I was then asked to leave the room while they give him a concoction to put him out and reset his ankle.

When they finished, the doctor came out and told me that everything went smoothly. He then proceeded to laugh and said, “Your friend wasn’t kidding that he doesn’t do any drugs. He took VERY well to what we gave him to put him under.”

After another half hour or so, I was allowed to go into the room. Prior to BJ being put under, the Respiratory Therapist told me that a good friend never misses an opportunity to catch another friend in a funny moment, especially when they are ‘coming to’ from an anesthetic. Let’s just say I have some evidence of BJ squinty-eyed and smiling, describing the experience as “It was so weird!!!” He then continued to repeat this sentence over and over to me to the point that I was laughing and proceeded to gently poke fun at him. Again, what are friends for?!

https://youtube.com/shorts/POOMg65XMI8

By this time, it was around 4am. We were both exhausted and needed sleep. After several more hours before we were discharged with instructions for what over-the-counter medications he could take for pain and when we should expect a call for surgery, we finally left.

I called us an Uber and we arrived back at the Sheraton Hotel just after 7am. BJ had been at the hospital for nearly 11 hours, and I had been there for 9. It was snowy when we got out of the Uber, and I was afraid he would fall. The Uber driver kindly offered to help me get him safely to the lobby. I think he saw the size of me and thought that if BJ falls, he’s either going to crush me or accidently hurt me. We ended up making it to his room and we fell fast asleep.

It was only a few hours later and I remember waking up to people talking. I was so disoriented and confused why I was hearing voices. I look up and BJ hobbles over with his crutches to the door that was half open leading into the adjoining room where the convoy organizers were. I saw Tamara come partly into the room, asking BJ how he’s doing. He told her what happened, and that he needed a couple of more hours of sleep before he would get started on the messaging.

After a few more hours of sleep, we both wake and get dressed. I offered to run out and grab us breakfast and coffee from a Tim Hortons around the corner. I could tell he was relieved that I was doing that, but then suddenly he became preoccupied. I didn’t realize that the moment he opened his laptop, the chaos that ensued most days, already had a head start.

Sarah

To read more about this and other behind the scenes stories from Freedom Convoy order a copy of Honking For Freedom - The Trucker Convoy That Gave Us Hope.

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http://www.HonkingForFreedom.com