The Case for CPR/AED Training

I can't decide if this story should start with me boarding the 2:30am flight from Tashkent to Istanbul (then onward to London and Orlando) when I got the call, or if the story should start with my dad working out at the gym in Colorado. Either way, the story ends the same.

The original plan was to meet Mom and Dad in Florida. While I would attend a nursing conference for work, they would hang out at the beach and visit friends. In the evenings we would enjoy dinner and each other's company. Considering the Schlink's not-so-great winter start with David's appendicitis, the unexpected and painful death of my brother-in-law, and various orthopedic injuries between Mark's parents and mine, we all agreed our short reunion would be a very welcome break. Even if it had to be a place like Florida.

Well, we planned, and God laughed.

Two days before the trip, while working out at the gym, my dad went into sudden cardiac arrest. Thanks to quick recognition and response by Conrad, a 71-year-old gym member, CPR, 911, and the AED were started, called, and executed. He was dead for about 8 minutes when the rescuers got his heart pumping again. Two ribs broke on the right, five on the left. The paramedics started two huge IV lines, intubated him, and loaded him into the ambulance for the 45 minute drive to the hospital. Mom, who was at lunch, got a notification that the gym would be closed for the rest of the day due to an emergency. Then she received a call from the emergency room but they wouldn't discuss on the phone what had happened. Unsurprisingly, worry and panic set in.

His heart was beating again, but how much brain damage did he suffer? We wouldn't know until he could be extubated and breathe on his own, if he could breathe on his own. Their other plans were to stabilize Tom's blood pressure, cool his body temperature, and rebalance his acids, bases and electrolytes. Only then could they evaluate heart by way of cardiac catheterization. All we could do was wait: mom frantic in the hospital waiting room, me trapped on airplanes with crappy (nonexistent) internet for the next 9 hours. Finally supplied with wifi upon arrival to London, I reconnected with my mom (no news) and I rearranged my tickets for a Denver arrival. I'd have to transfer from Gatwick to Heathrow, and connect in Chicago, but I'd arrive after nearly 48 hours of travel, front-door to ICU-door. I didn't know if I'd be coming back to say hello or goodbye to my dad.

Part of my own heart was/is broken, living so far away from family and when emergencies come up like this, the distance is especially painful. This part of the Foreign Service sucks. However, I had the help of an amazing General Services Officer and the embassy's travel team to assist me in changing tickets without having to be placed on hold, or standing in line for hours. They got me to where I needed to be in record time.

Tom made an impressive recovery. Once he could breathe on his own and his labs improved, he was scheduled for a cardiac catheterization where a specialist would insert a wire and inject dye through his right, radial artery to take pictures. Depending on the number and location of arteries needing repair, he'd get either a stent(s) or need open heart surgery. By the time we returned from lunch, he had already been evaluated and treated. Interestingly, my dad has an extra bifurcation to the left anterior descending artery (LAD) the one famously known as the Widow Maker. The bifurcation called the ramus artery and only 35% of people have it. I couldn't find much information about artery in my medical apps, textbooks, or even google.

Tom was discharged from the hospital after just 5 days, oddly anticlimactic but very much welcomed. Soreness and exhaustion have been the main themes at home, he's had no brain injury apart from the amnesia of the gym day and days in the ICU. Four weeks from now and he will get a stent placed in his LAD after his heart recovers from the trauma, and also after my mom gets a new knee. (My parents have spent the last couple of years trading off being surgical patients, it's almost a running joke).

My brother, mom, and I had the pleasure to thank the people involved in saving our dad. We celebrated with cookies and fruit, hugs given, and stories were shared. So many happy tears were shed. Most importantly, the gym staff, police and paramedics reaffirmed the value that CPR and AED training brings to the table. We literally have NO idea when it will be our turn to save a life, or when ours needs to be saved. To say I am grateful would be an understatement.

My dad with his ICU nurse and 
his pressors, heparin, antibiotic drips, freshly extubated.

Crappy lab values in the ICU. Dx: NSTEMI in ramus artery,
resulting in ventricular fibrillation.

My dad with his new stent and heart pillow I coincidentally brought for his birthday. 
I planned to give it while in Florida.

Man Of The Year.
Mom with Conrad, my new favorite hero: retired high school
biology teacher, football and ski coach, and CPR doer.
  

Lt. Ron who helped Conrad shock my dad back to life.

Gym staff who fielded phone calls,
directed the paramedics, and kept everyone calm.

Celebrating life. Literally.