It was still well before sunrise on December 17th, a Wednesday morning, the week before Christmas, when Daraigh got up from bed and went to the kitchen of his home. He started his usual breakfast routine, getting ready for what he expected would be another physical but enjoyable day’s work out in the landscape, helping to control Connemara’s invasive rhododendron, on a project named Dúlra.

But that morning would not be a normal morning, and Daraigh would suddenly be thrown into a fight for his life.

At some innocuous moment around 7am, for reasons that have yet to be fully understood, Daraigh’s heart abruptly stopped beating, going into a full cardiac arrest, and he collapsed, without getting a chance to say a word.

In these circumstances, life hangs by a thread. With no circulation, and no oxygen going to the brain, every second counts. Daraigh lives with his wife Tracy, and their daughters Faith and Elena, in a quiet area north of Letterfrack, a fair distance from the main hospital in Galway city. But even in this quiet place at this quiet time before dawn, systems clicked into gear, and from the 999 emergency phone call, a response was immediately underway.

By sheer chance, Daraigh’s father-in-law happened to be in the kitchen right then, having stayed over because of a broken boiler. The alarm was raised. Tracy began CPR with guidance over the phone. In minutes, two trained local responders were at the door. In less than fifteen minutes an ambulance had arrived, as well as further responders. A whole team. A defibrillation shock was administered to try and reset and restart Daraigh’s heart’s rhythm. It didn’t work. They tried again. And again.

Under constant CPR, Daraigh was brought into the ambulance and it sped for UHG, over 80 km away. Over twenty times, attempts were made to shock his heart back, but to no avail.

But just after being rushed into the emergency department in Galway, and after a full two hours offline, his heart found a rhythm, began to beat again. The thread had not broken.

For the next twenty-hour to forty-eight hours, Daraigh was in an unresponsive state as the incredible ICU staff worked around the clock to try and pull him away from the edge. His oxygen levels and blood pressure teetered, dipped and rose unsteadily. With that length of time without normal oxygen levels and the number of shocks delivered, the odds were not in his favour.

But,

Slowly, slowly, came signs.Surprises. A very slight head movement, an eye movement. Brain scans looking for neurological signals were cancelled when Daraigh unexpectedly responded to voice commands to squeeze with his hand.

The minutes and hours became days, a blur of procedures and beeping machines, and all the time improvements, more surprises. A thumbs up. A first word. Memories from decades ago, then gradually short term memory and full awareness. He made it to Christmas, then to New Year’s, then to his 35th birthday on Jan 3rd..

Thanks to the simply amazing response from the instant he collapsed, Daraigh made it through to today. A community of people made it possible: all of these people are unquestionably lifesavers. Meanwhile, from his neighbours to his workmates, hospital staff, parents, siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, the support from near and far has been enormous. Candles have been lit on different continents.

Now, he is on a new road, one that will hopefully, hopefully, end in a full recovery. However, this is not something you can simply walk away from. Daraigh’s care is complex, and a lot of time and healing will be needed. Uncertainties are likely to persist for some time. His kidneys, for example, have not yet recovered, and other organs have also been affected. The underlying heart issue has not yet been confirmed. Daraigh has type I diabetes, which adds its own complexities. In the coming weeks, as more is learned, more concrete plans will need to be put in place. Meanwhile, his family are scrambling to reorient and reorganise their lives around this life-changing event, and all hoping that they can recover a sense of normality, and get through the stress and anxieties of what has been a stormy passage.

As this new year begins, it was decided to publish this Gofundme as an option where support can be given to Daraigh and his family to navigate this rocky road, one that will hopefully see him return to his home in Baunoge, and his family out by the Corrib in Oughterard, and work towards getting back to the simple and vital things in life, time with loved ones, being there for his family, and being part of the community. We all look forward to getting to this space, and to a time of thanks and celebrations, watching the light passing across Diamond Hill, and the sea shining in Ballinakill.