DOG ATTACKED COURTNEY BERMAN

We are raising money for Courtney Paige Berman, a young mother of three with the heart of an
angel, who was attacked by a very viscous Dog.

Courtney is recovering from her devastating injuries and posted her story, below. The ongoing
medical expense will reach unbelievable amounts so we’re trying to help offset them with this fundraiser. Please donate whatever you can.

“I haven’t been exactly sure whether or not I was going to share this but since my life has drastically changed I figured I might as well. On April 5th 2020 I was sitting outside my moms house on a phone call when something suddenly pulled me back onto the sidewalk. At first I wasn’t sure what it was. I thought maybe it was a person trying to get my attention, but as I turned around, I realized there was a huge dog, that looked like a pitbull, biting my tricep. I remember the pain as his teeth sunk into my skin. I remember being confused at first and thinking that maybe he was playing with me. I tried to move my arm, to shake him off, but he just kept biting me. I remember looking up at the owner who looked scared and confused and I remember realizing then that I was in danger. I remember dropping my phone. Yelling for her to “get him off of me”. Asking her to “please make him stop”. But she was so frozen and so scared and the dog would not let go of me. There are honestly no words to express the pain that went with the feeling of my skin separating from me. All I know is that it felt like it lasted forever and the next thing I knew, I was calling for my mom. Yelling louder than I’ve ever yelled before. And then thinking that “mom” wasn’t specific enough. So I started calling for “help” instead. I remember the dog dragging me out into the street as the skin from my knees scraped across the road. And I remember thinking as I was on the floor, that if I didn’t get up, this dog was going to kill me. That he could bite my neck. That he could get on top of my body and literally rip me apart. So I told myself, that whatever I did, I had to stand up. Somehow I go to my feet and the next thing I knew, there was a car stopping and two men running towards me. I remember yelling. Yelling so loud that my ears were ringing. They were fighting the dog. Trying everything they could to get him to let go of me as I continued to yell. Not words anymore. I was just yelling sounds into the air. And the next thing I saw my mom my step dad and my uncle Mike running out in my direction. I remember being surrounded by men. Watching them hit the dog. Watching them try to get him off of my as I begged for help. It hurt so badly I think I nearly blacked out. And then I remember falling back into my moms arms as I clutched my own arm, which now felt like dough, as I realized that “something was wrong”. That the skin on my arm felt “wrong” and it was in that moment that I realized the skin on my arm was no longer attached to me. At least not all the way. I remember laying on the sidewalk in my mom’s lap. Continuing to yell out in pain as her neighbors all came out of their houses. I remember my mom yelling for someone to call 911 and for someone to find something to wrap around my arm. And then I remember looking up and realizing that the dog was now biting my step dad’s arm. I remember panicking. Thinking that not only was I going to lose my arm but that he was going to be hurt as well. I looked up at my mom, saw the panic in her eyes as she yelled for somebody to “help him”, as I laid in her lap on the sidewalk bleeding. She was strong and loud and told everyone what they needed to do to help. Then there was a man, I think a neighbor, ripping his shirt into a bunch of pieces to tie around my arm. “To stop the bleeding”. The rest is in fragments. I remember my stepdad laying down on the grass next to me, his shirt bloody, the grass bloody, his eyes facing the sky. And then I remember the paramedics. One of them trying to roll up the sleeve to my shirt and me begging him not to because, “something was wrong with the skin” and “it was too scary and painful”. Then I remember the paramedics giving me something for the pain and cutting off my clothes. I remember driving to the hospital and thinking on the drive how lucky I was that it wasn’t the kids. I remember saying that to the paramedics. That “I have three small kids“ and that “I’m so happy that it was me and not them”. And then remember them asking me about my hand, which I couldn’t feel and was turning blue. When I got to the ER I got a chance to look at my mutilated arm. It was ripped wide open, and there was a huge flap of my skin just hanging there. Barely on me. I remember telling the doctors “I can’t believe this happened”. That “this can’t be real”. From there I spent five days in the hospital by myself. Due to COVID-19 I wasn’t allowed to have any visitors or anyone with me. I bled through bandages and I laid in a bed, in agonizing pain, by myself and scared out of my mind. I couldn’t sleep at night. I had nightmares about what happened. I still sometimes hear screams. I went into surgery on Wednesday April 8. All of my skin wasn’t viable so they had to do a skin graft on my right thigh. I remember waking up to the news that I had lost some muscle and tendons and that I had some permanent nerve damage, but that my arm would work again, just potentially not be as strong or as capable. I’m healing now. Hoping that the skin graft takes. Hoping that I don’t have to have a second surgery. Hoping that I can eventually get feeling back in parts of my tricep. Hoping that the deformities on my arm aren’t too horrific and struggling to sleep. Struggling to bathe or brush my teeth or eat. I don’t know why am writing all of this but I think I needed to say it to get it out. Most days I wake up and I’m upset. I’m angry about what happened. I haven’t been able to spend time with my kids in seven days. They’ve been crying for me and I can’t see them. During a global pandemic. I’m going to have to be away from my children for at least another two weeks. My heart is broken. I feel devastated and scared and confused. I realize that this is going to be a lifelong battle. Not only physically but also mentally. That nothing will ever be the same after this. I appreciate my neighbors and everyone that came out and tried to help me. For everyone that sent flowers and cards and baked goods to my moms house. I appreciate your support and your love. I appreciate my medical team. The doctors and nurses that are taking such good care of me. I appreciate my parents for their endless love and support, who have cried with me. Particularly My stepdad Paul and my uncle Mike, who literally saved my life. And Paul who got attacked in doing so and is still recovering now. You are my heroes. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t there. I appreciate my brother Miles Hamilton and my sister Sienna Downey and my cousin Gabriella Ciaramella and my aunt Savina Cadiente Ciaramella, my friends Caitlin Williams Dominique Amélie Artichaut for texting me and FaceTiming me while I was alone In the hospital and couldn’t sleep at night. I appreciate Hogan Henderson for taking such great care of our three kids while I can’t. I appreciate everyone who is taking the time to reach out to my family during this time. To provide comfort to them. Thank you for your support.“