Unlocked: An Oral History of Haden’s Syndrome (3 page)

Neal Joseph, Biographer and Author of “The President’s Crucible: The First Year of Haden’s Syndrome”:

I talked to David Haden, President Haden’s younger brother, and the thing he told me that stuck in my head was that the President absolutely hated when the disease started being called “Haden’s syndrome.” Absolutely
hated
it. David said, and I remember this clearly, that it was, “Not because it reminded everyone that he was President when it hit. It was because it was named for Margie. He hated that from the minute it stuck until the end of time, everyone would think of Margie as being sick. Of being trapped in her own self. As being the person you thought of, when you thought of Haden’s syndrome. Ben married this wonderful, physical, healthy, gorgeous woman and no one but him would ever think of her that way again.”

Janis Massey, Chief of Staff for Margaret Haden, First Lady of the United States of America:

After Margie got sick we looked at her schedule to see when it might have happened, when that first contact with the virus might have been. After ten minutes we threw up our hands. The First Lady’s schedule for the couple of weeks before she got sick had her at six events a day across five time zones in two different countries. One of those days she came into contact with school children, hospital patients, and the Prime Minister of Canada within six hours of each other. The only people who come into contact with more people on a daily basis than the First Lady are toll booth operators.

She could have gotten it from any of the people she met. She could have gotten it from us, her staff; some of us got sick around the same time and at one point half of us were out of the office with it. She could have gotten it from Ben’s staff, many of whom also got sick. It was impossible to pinpoint. Which makes Margie like nearly everyone else who got sick with the virus.

Col. Lydia Harvey, MD (Ret.), Physician to the President:

The First Lady came to see me on the afternoon of the 13th, after a staff meeting, and said she was feeling achy and wanted to know if I could do anything about it. As I examined her we talked about our upcoming plans for Valentine’s Day—well, she talked about hers and I admitted I had no plans because my husband was as romantic as a fish, and I’m really not much better. She laughed and said the President was the same way, but she liked an excuse to have a nice dinner for just the two of them.

By this time I was obviously aware of what was then still called the Super Bowl flu—the President had been briefed on it by the CDC and I had been allowed to sit in on the briefing because of my position as presidential physician. But the presentation initially seemed much more like the bird flu variant that had been present at the time, and I knew that the First Lady had missed her flu vaccination—an oversight on the part of my staff. I told her it was likely to be that, though it might be the Super Bowl flu instead, and that in either case she should consider cancelling her schedule for the next couple of days and resting. She agreed to reduce her schedule for the next day but was adamant about her dinner date with the President. I told her that would probably be fine.

Elizabeth Torres, Personal Assistant to the First Lady:

The First Lady was under the weather for Valentine’s Day and for a few days afterward but it didn’t seem like whatever flu she had was getting the better of her. She trimmed down her schedule mostly to planning sessions with the staff, made only a few unavoidable personal appearances and kept herself hydrated. She was sick but it was a highly functional sick, if you know what I mean.

At the end of the week she decided that she was feeling better and that she could do a full weekend schedule. This included the Maryland Winter Girl Scout Jamboree, where she was going to give a speech at the closing ceremonies. She had been a Girl Scout herself, so this was something she didn’t want to miss if she could avoid it.

Saturday she was fine. If she was feeling poorly she kept it to herself. She spent the morning using the White House studio for radio interviews and then had personal time for the rest of the day. When I left she seemed good. No more or less tired than she might have otherwise been. I assumed that she was over the flu.

Sunday morning she said she felt stiff and had a headache, but she said she thought it was probably due to a large margarita she had while she was binge watching old episodes of
Orange is the New Black
and then sleeping poorly. I suggested she might want to see the doctor on staff that morning, but she waved me off and took Tylenol instead and then we headed off to the Jamboree.

Ann Watson, former Reporter, WHAG-TV:

I was supposed to get three minutes with the First Lady before she went up and gave her speech, but when we arrived we were told by her press secretary Jean Allison that she wasn’t going to give any pre-speech interviews. Well, I was more than a little annoyed by this. The only reason we were at the Jamboree at all was because we were promised face time, otherwise we would have just had a cameraman do crowd shots for the last two minutes of the 6:30 broadcast. I told Jean that, and reminded her that it was her office who set up the interview, not us. She apologized and kind of ducked in toward me and said “look, she’s really not feeling well and we’re just trying to get her through this thing,” and that she would make it up to me. Then she walked off.

As she’s saying this I can see the First Lady greeting some of the Girl Scouts. Margie Haden was very good at the public appearance face—the look of being interested or excited about something even if you don’t care—and she was doing her best to use it. But you could see it slip the second she lost focus. I can’t say she looked like she was in pain, but I can say that she looked very, very unhappy.

Elizabeth Torres:

By the time we arrived to the campground she said her headache had become a migraine. I was worried because as long as I knew the First Lady she had never gotten a headache that would qualify as a migraine. I asked her if she wanted to back out but she said no, she could get through it. Celia Williams and Davis Armstrong, who were in charge of her security detail, also suggested that she cancel or at the very least limit her public time at the event. She didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to disappoint the scouts.

Ann Watson:

About a half hour before the closing ceremonies were supposed to start, the organizers started trying to herd all the Girl Scouts into the bleachers. They were being told that the First Lady had had something come up and she would have to give her speech early. I could hear the youngest Girl Scouts complain, because they were there for the other activities. They hardly knew who the First Lady was at all. But they were all pushed along to the bleachers.

We set up at the front with the other media and had to do a little elbow throwing because we’re a small market crew, but got a good spot. Off to the side we could see the First Lady, in her winter coat, conferring with a young lady I think was her assistant and with what were obviously her Secret Service people. By now the First Lady’s public appearance face was long gone. But she wasn’t on stage so it probably isn’t fair to note that.

She was introduced very briefly by the head scout, I think, and then she came on. The Girl Scouts started cheering and screaming for her, and if you look at the video feed and know the context, you can tell for her it was like being stabbed in the eardrums. But she smiled and waved and got out her notes and talked like a trouper for five minutes. Then she stopped, smiled and looked off stage.

Elizabeth Torres:

She looked over directly to me, said, “I think I may be having a stroke,” and collapsed.

Ann Watson:

I don’t think I have ever seen people move as fast as I saw those Secret Service people move when she hit the floor up there.

Col. Lydia Harvey:

When I learned that the First Lady collapsed in Maryland, after having been sick and without a member of my staff being present, I, after an appropriate time, tendered my resignation to the President. He refused it, on the basis that the First Lady did not check in with the staff to let us know she was feeling poorly. Nevertheless, it was made clear to me immediately afterwards that the refusal came counter to the suggestion of some of the top members of his team. They had questioned my treatment of the First Lady’s earlier phase of the disease and blamed me for her progressing to the second, meningitis-like phase.

Of course we know now that there was nothing that I or any physician could have done that could have changed the progression of the disease. But this is the wife of the President we’re discussing. As ridiculous as it sounds, within the White House itself, it became political, quickly.

In any event, within minutes of her collapse she was on her way to Walter Reed, and so was I.

Wesley Auchincloss, Deputy Chief of Staff for President Haden:

The President was in Arizona for a meeting with western governors when he’d gotten word his wife had collapsed. They were discussing the border wall with Mexico when [Presidential Assistant] Clay Strickland leaned in and told him. The President stood up immediately and started to exit the room. The governor of Texas, who had been a primary opponent of his, started to complain, and the President held up his hand and said, “Bill, at this very moment, I could not give a single god damn for your miserable wall,” and walked out. I’m certain the governor of Texas never forgave the President for that comment. I am equally certain the President did not, as he put it, give a single god damn about that.

Neal Joseph:

What was really underappreciated at the time—even after that bruising election cycle—was how much Benjamin Haden relied on Margie Haden. Much was made of the closeness of their relationship, and how it humanized him despite him being a generally unlovable character. But most people missed just how deeply he needed her, both politically and emotionally. He wouldn’t have made it into the White House without her, simply put. And when she collapsed and it looked like she might have had a serious stroke, you could not have more effectively pulled the rug out from under the man than that. People were surprised that he literally put everything on pause to get back to her. They shouldn’t have been surprised. It would have been surprising if he hadn’t.

Col. Lydia Harvey:

The President’s face when he got to Walter Reed and saw his wife in the hospital bed. You would have thought someone had torn out his heart and stamped it into the floor.

Benjamin Moldanado:

Around the time the First Lady was struck with the meningitis phase, some of the phase’s earliest victims were moving into what we began to recognize as a third, distinct phase of the disease. In this phase, for all intents and purposes, the victim’s voluntary nervous system shuts down—the victim can’t move, can’t speak, can’t even blink intentionally. The autonomic systems in most cases continued to function, so people could still breathe, and all the other critical life functions would continue more or less as they normally would. Cognitive function was likewise unaffected, to the extent that it had not been earlier affected by meningitis.

The short form of this was that people suffering from the third stage were essentially trapped inside their own bodies. They were conscious, awake and able to think, feel, and perceive the world around them. They just weren’t able to tell us they could do all these things. They were locked in.

At first, we only had a few reports of “lock in,” and we thought it might be the rare but not entirely surprising end game for a small handful of meningitis-phase sufferers, the next step beyond those who had developed significant cognitive impairment from the disease. But then the number exploded, and we realized that many of those who were experiencing lock in weren’t otherwise cognitively impaired—that there was no real correlation between cognitive damage and lock in. Like the first two rounds, some people got it and some people didn’t.

And one of those who got it was Margaret Haden.

Duane Holmes, Legislative Aide for Lynn Cortez, Speaker of the House:

Nothing got done. I mean
nothing
. To be fair to the President, very little was getting done anyway: The Republicans had the Senate and we had the House and neither chamber was passing much of anything that would get past the other. But each of us had our legislative agendas, and of course the President had his own, largely in line with the Senate’s. So we were all keeping busy.

Then the First Lady got sick and the President dropped everything. It wasn’t subtle, either. My boss got called into a meeting by [White House Chief of Staff Kenny] Lamb, who told her that until Margie Haden got better the President’s attention was going to be elsewhere. This didn’t sit well with the Speaker, because we were in the middle of trying to hammer out a long-term budget deal instead of doling out extensions like we had been doing. But Lamb made it clear the President had other things on his mind. My boss said that if he was going to be that distracted maybe he should let Vice President Hicks take over as acting executive in chief. I don’t think that went over particularly well.

My boss was irritated enough to ready a few jabs at the President about it, but [Senate Minority Leader Gordon] Harmon and his people pointed out to her that trying to take a punch at a man whose wife was gravely ill was not going to go over well at all. The Speaker agreed that she would give him a week but that was it. Sick wife or not, she had budget priorities, and she didn’t want to lose momentum on the discussion.

As it turned out, a week later two of the Speaker’s granddaughters were sick and she didn’t give a crap about the budget either. Nor did anyone else—there wasn’t a Congressperson on the Hill who didn’t have family or friends who were sick. This plague hit everyone.

Phyllida Yang, Professor of Pathology, New York University: