Cardiac Arrest

The Incident

On January 9, 2014, my husband had cardiac arrest. 

According to the Sudden Cardiac Arrest Foundation, every day nearly 1,000 people in the U.S. suffer out-of-hospital Sudden Cardiac Arrest (SCA).  For nine out of ten victims, SCA is fatal.

My husband was one of the 10% to live that day.

SCA occurs when a person's heart suddenly stops beating.  The person collapses and doesn’t respond or breathe normally. They may gasp or shake as if having a seizure.

My husband shook.  In fact, the paramedics told us later that the 911 call came in as someone having a seizure.  I don’t know if it was me or our younger son who told them that.  Our son was there and saw his father collapse.  He’s the one who called 911, but I remember sitting next to my husband on our kitchen floor telling my son what to say.  At least, I think so.  Maybe I didn’t.  That moment, Just a Blink in time, is both extremely vivid and completely a blur.

 Many people confuse SCA with a heart attack, but they are very different.  A heart attack is often referred to as a circulation or plumbing problem because part of the heart's blood supply is reduced or blocked, causing injury to the heart muscle.  SCA is an electrical problem that stops the heart completely.  No blood is pumped through the body or brain, which can lead to death within minutes if the person doesn't get help right away. When bystanders intervene immediately by calling 911, starting CPR, and using an AED¹ if available, survival rates double or triple.

I remember that my husband’s eyes were open but glazed over.  He wasn’t in there.  He didn’t gasp for breath; he barely breathed at all.  Paramedics arrived within three minutes.  They told us later that my husband went into cardiac arrest after they arrived, right in front of their eyes.  If that was so, I asked, what was happening to him before they arrived?  “He was circling the drain,” they said.

I remember thinking, “This is how it ends - he’ll never meet our grandchildren.” I remember the paramedics using an AED to shock his heart.  I want to say I heard them do it three times, but it’s a blur.  I want to say they told us later it was actually six times, but that’s another blur.

I remember changing out of my pajamas and gathering up some essential items to take to the hospital:  contact solution, water bottles, cell phone charger.  I remember finding all our prescription drugs from the medicine cabinet sitting out on the bathroom counter.

I remember the paramedics saying they were going to insert a breathing tube.  I remember them putting my husband on a gurney and discussing how they were going to get him down the flight of stairs outside our front door.  I remember going out the door behind them and asking someone (our son?  the other paramedics?) to lock the door when they left.  I remember riding in the front seat of the ambulance for the six tenths of a mile from our home to the hospital.

I remember our younger son and his girlfriend (now wife) and my parents being in the emergency waiting room with me, trying to get a hold of our older son and his girlfriend (now wife) in Washington state.  I remember a nurse handing me a bag of my husband’s belongings and finding his favorite shirt inside - ripped in half.

I remember my husband was in the ICU, in a medically induced coma, unconscious and sedated with Propofol, for a week.  I remember hearing that an overdose of Propofol is what caused Michael Jackson's cardiac arrest and death.  I remember wearing my winter coat and mittens in the ICU room because it was so extremely cold.  I remember playing endless games of Sudoku on my BlackBerry, and my mom making a fleece baby blanket for one of the nurses whose wife was pregnant with their first child.

I remember a doctor explaining that they wanted to perform a tracheotomy because the breathing tube that the paramedics had inserted had made a tiny hole in my husband’s trachea that wasn’t healing. I remember the doctor presenting it as optional, saying some people choose not to put their family member through that.

I remember most of the doctors and nurses being very kind and patient with their explanations, but nevertheless feeling overwhelmed by the immensity of the situation.  I remember thinking that I needed to talk with my husband to tell him what was happening so we could console one another and figure out what to do, and then remembering that I couldn’t talk with him.

After a few days, a nurse briefly reduced the sedation, brought my husband just to the brink of consciousness, and told him to give a thumbs up if he could hear her.  I remember the nurse tearing up right along with my mom and I when he did it!  I remember that nurse’s name was Vanessa.

After a week, my husband was flown by helicopter from the hospital in Flagstaff to a hospital in Phoenix for further treatment.  He was still sedated and I remember snapping a photo to show him later that he had taken a helicopter ride. I remember when the helicopter took off, my mom and I got in the car and drove two and a half hours to Phoenix, not knowing what to expect next. 

Angel, the Guardian Air helicopter with my husband aboard.

My husband was in the hospital in Phoenix for two weeks. They weaned him off the sedation completely.  It was horrible.  He was angry and swore at me and his nurses.  He tried to rip out the IVs and tubes attached to his body.  He tried to get out of bed and walk out of the hospital.

Thy removed his tracheostomy tube. He had speech therapy to be sure he could swallow on his own. He had physical and occupational therapies because of the trauma to his body.

There are some known risk factors for cardiac arrest, including congenital abnormalities, severe heart failure, electrocution, and drug overdose. But often, SCA occurs with no warning and the cause is not always determined.  Not everyone who experiences SCA is a candidate for an ICD².  It depends on a person's health history and the reason for their cardiac arrest.

My husband had a history of heart issues, so his doctors determined that he was at risk of further SCA incidents and recommended that he have an ICD implanted.  Again, it was presented as optional. Two days prior to him leaving the hospital in Phoenix, they removed his feeding tube.  One day prior, they implanted an ICD. Or maybe it was the other way around. In any case, we were back in Flagstaff to watch the Superbowl from home.

I remember that the AED the paramedics used saved his life, but fractured his ribs.  I remember that he could not raise his left arm above his shoulder for eight weeks to allow the ICD leads to cement themselves into his heart.  I remember peppering his cardiologist with a list of questions about what to do and what not to do.  I remember his cardiologist saying, “He’s alive.  Let him live his life.”

My mom moved in with us for a month to help out. She did all the cooking and cleaning, and was with my husband during the day when I was at work. I spent lunch breaks and evenings helping him shower, getting him outside for increasingly longer walks, monitoring his vitals and his wound sites, putting his compression socks on and pulling them off, and coordinating insurance coverage and follow-up appointments.

I remember that my husband had driven home from his job in Sedona (45 minutes away) and picked me up from the dentist just a few hours prior to his cardiac arrest.  I remember asking him if he had been waiting long and him saying no, he had just gotten there.  He had stopped somewhere along the way for a walk, because he, “needed it.”  I remember launching into a speech about how I hated the new hygienist, she was too rough on my teeth, and I was thinking about switching dentists.  I remember that I did not ask what he meant by “needing” a walk.

I’m sure there are a few things I have forgotten, but my mind remembers an awful lot about those next days and weeks and months.  My body also remembers.  My body remembers waking up in the morning for years, years!, and in less time than it took to open my eyes, feeling a soul crushing weight settle deep into my chest.

My husband does not remember any of this.  He does not remember anything from about two weeks prior to the day of his cardiac arrest (when we hiked with both of our boys and both of their girlfriends/now wives for the very first time) to several weeks after getting home from the hospital.  He did not have an out-of-body experience. He did not see any bright lights nor any dead relatives, despite the fact that he was technically dead on our kitchen floor.

Time passes in the blink of an eye.  Today is exactly 10 years and 10 days from the date of “the incident,” as we call it.  Today is also exactly 44 years to the day that my husband and I met in high school.  Things change, life goes on.  I think of our lives as divided into before the incident and after the incident, but not a single day goes by that I don’t think about the incident. I don’t usually dwell on the details, but it is always, always on my mind.

And some days, I panic.  Maybe my husband isn’t answering his phone or maybe he hasn’t responded to a text I sent him.  Maybe there is no reasonable explanation, or any explanation at all.  But I have been known to leave work or home, get in the car, and head towards wherever he is, crying and convinced that I will find him lying on the ground unconscious.

I know his ICD should shock his heart out of any rhythms that could cause cardiac arrest.  I know he is doing incredibly well, all things considered, and I am truly grateful.  And fortunately, I panic less as the years go by.  But some days my head spins with, “circling the drain,” and “let him live his life,” and “only 10% survive.”

Give your family and friends a hug.  Know the signs of sudden cardiac arrest.

Thanks for passing Just a Blink of your time with me!

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¹ AED: An Automated External Defibrillator is a device that analyzes the heart and if it detects a problem may deliver a shock to restart the heart’s normal rhythm.

² ICD: An Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator is a small, computerized device that is implanted in the upper chest of patients who are at risk for sudden cardiac arrest (SCA). Most ICDs can fit easily in the palm of the hand. The ICD detects abnormal heart rhythms, delivers electrical energy to the heart muscle, and restores a normal heartbeat.  While pacemakers are designed to speed up a slow heart rate, ICDs are designed to slow down a fast heartbeat. Some ICDs also have built-in pacemakers and can address both problems. The ICD has two parts: the lead(s), which monitor the heart rhythm and deliver energy, and the generator which houses a battery and small computer. Energy is stored in the battery until it is needed. When it is not needed, the ICD simply monitors the heart rhythm.

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This chart and all SCA information, facts, and statistics are from the Sudden Cardiac Arrest Foundation website.

Respectful comments are welcome. Let’s inspire each other with a little wisdom and a lot of humor, patience, and kindness.