Support Aaron's Road to Recovery

His heart stopped while he was driving on the highway, and that is where our story begins. A few weeks after this photo was taken, my husband, Aaron McLendon, went from remodeling our dream home to fighting for his life.

On the Highway

It began as a normal Saturday, where Aaron spent the morning working at our new, fixer-upper home while I was packing at the old one. We left Denton together that afternoon, headed to Dallas for our youngest daughter’s birthday party. As we drove on I-35 South in the left lane, going about 75mph through a construction zone, something went terribly wrong. Aaron felt huge pressure in his chest and began to feel himself blacking out. He only said “oh no” before he managed to press the brake and roll to a stop while simultaneously losing consciousness. I was in the passenger seat and knew we were in the middle of a terrifying emergency. I watched him struggle to breathe and then stop breathing as I frantically called 911, got the car into park, and turned on the hazard lights. Our first two miracles had already occurred: he kept his foot on the brake even while unconscious, and we were not hit by the traffic swerving around us.

The third miracle occurred after I managed to get out of the car and around to the driver’s side. While I was on the phone with 911, his heart miraculously restarted—the doctors still do not understand why this happened. What I thought was him passing out and regaining consciousness was actually his heart stopping and then moments later restarting again.

I have never been so glad to hear the sound of sirens.

The Hospital

The EMTs and firefighters were our heroes, and by the time they arrived a few minutes later, Aaron was breathing, conscious, and oriented enough to answer questions. We were quickly taken to the closest ER where they began running tests. None of the initial tests were showing anything definitive, and while we waited in the room for more answers, it happened again. As the ER staff rushed in, I watched him go through exactly what happened in the car—and again his heart restarted.

The team was baffled and began running more urgent tests. No one realized at this point that his heart had stopped because he came back to consciousness on his own less than a minute later. While the urgency increased, no one knew how dire his circumstances really were. Then it happened again. Only this time everything changed. His heart did not restart and they realized he had gone into vfib (ventricular fibrillation), and his heart had stopped working. They started chest compressions and then he received two shocks from the defibrillator to bring his heart back online. These were the first two of ten different shocks he would receive over the next several hours of the longest night of my life.

In the ER, everything changed: the urgency, the number of people, and my own panic. It was not long after that third incident that we received the news that Aaron would be careflighted to a more specialized hospital. As he was taken by helicopter to Medical City Plano, I was left to drive myself there. While responding to messages before leaving, I received news that he had arrived at the new hospital before I even left the parking lot. It truly was amazing how fast they got him there.

After arriving I learned two things: his heart had stopped again, and he had been admitted to the cardiac ICU. His amazing team in the ICU worked all night to keep him stable, but his heart would not stay in rhythm. He went into vfib every three hours until they could get the team together and get him into surgery. Each time it happened, he was shocked at least once, if not more. As brutal as it was for him to be shocked over and over—several times he was conscious for—I am so grateful that he responded to the defibrillator and was brought back each time, miraculously with minimal damage to his heart.

Finding a Solution

Sunday morning, Aaron was intubated and taken into the catheter lab where they did an angiogram and found that he had two blockages: one acute and one chronic. They believed that the acute blockage had just closed up when he was driving and that is what caused him to lose consciousness on the highway. We were all optimistic after hearing that they were able to open the blockage and place a stent. The other blockage did not appear as concerning because his heart had built many collateral arteries around the second blockage, and that part of his heart was receiving near-normal blood flow. The doctors told me that it would be extremely rare for the acute blockage not to be the cause of his vfib, and his heart would likely be functioning normally now that they had opened it up. With lots of hope, they woke him up and took him off the breathing tube to begin recovery. Unfortunately, that is not how his story went.

Just two hours after his successful stent procedure, his heart stopped again. And he was shocked…again. Once more, everything changed. The doctors who were so confident and hopeful became worried and confused. It was a “back to the drawing board” moment as they now realized that the blockage was not the main issue. The problem had shifted from a “plumbing” concern to an “electrical” issue. We were told that he needed to be intubated again and taken back to the cath lab. They had to make sure that the stent had not moved or closed up. So after briefly having a few moments to hold each others hands, pray, and say terrifying, loving words to each other, he was put back on the breathing machine, and I would not talk to him for the next four days.

Memorial Day morning, his second catheter procedure told us two things: the stent was fine and we have no idea what’s causing the vfib. The doctor worked to open the second blockage, in case that was the issue, but was unable to get through. They did not want to be too aggressive with how much his heart had been through, so they stopped trying after 40 minutes. I was told that they would leave him intubated and sedated to give him much more time to recover. So I watched him sleep.

Between hospital visits, I was going home to pack. Our move was scheduled for that Thursday and I was determined to make it happen. Exhausted and traumatized, he slept and I packed. I had so much help from friends and family who came to help pack, cared for our animals, brought food, and sat with me at the hospital.

I was told on Tuesday that the electrophysiologist (the heart doctor who focuses on electrical issues), had decided he needed an ICD device (Implantable Cardioverter-Defibrillator). This serves as a pacemaker as well as a defibrillator that can deliver shocks if needed. They wanted to wait until Wednesday to do the procedure to give him a whole day of rest between procedures.

Wednesday morning he was taken in for yet another procedure to implant the device. That surgery was successful and thankfully uncomplicated. His team of doctors decided to leave him sedated and intubated for the rest of Wednesday for more recovery time, and he would likely be woken up on Thursday: our moving day.

Thursday I was a mess. It was so painful to be home managing the move while he was at the hospital being taken off of the breathing tube. I kept telling myself, “This is what I can do for him. I can’t do anything at the hospital, but I can do this.” And with a whole host of love and support, and muscles and movers, the move was a success. And so was Aaron’s return to consciousness. He had family with him while I had friends and family with me, and we did it.

Recovery

His recovery since that time has not been entirely smooth, but it has been miraculous. By Friday, I was overjoyed to see his face and hear his voice. It is amazing how grateful you are for the tiniest moments when you almost lose the love of your life. Just holding hands or exchanging tiny conversations become more precious than any grand gesture. While we were and continue to be jumpy about every sensation he experiences, I am overjoyed to say that his heart has not gone back into vfib since they placed the ICD device.

Aaron progressed in amazing ways over the next several days and was released to the hospital’s cardio step-down care on Monday morning. By Tuesday evening, they had cleared him to come home to our new house. What a scary, joyful moment that was. And so began our at-home recovery journey.

That is where you find us now. It has been one month since that terrible drive, and he gets stronger every day. We had thought that his next step would be starting an outpatient cardio rehab program, but we were in for one more plot twist.

Aaron needs another heart surgery. We found out last week that his cardiologist believes it is unsafe to leave that second blockage unaddressed. After reeling for a few days, we have come to terms with the fact that the sooner that blockage gets opened up, the safer it is for Aaron’s short-term recovery and long-term health. So, we will be headed back to the hospital in the next few weeks for him to have another catheter procedure to hopefully place a stent in the second, chronic blockage. We just found out this morning that the surgery is scheduled for July 18th and will include at least one night in the hospital for monitoring afterward. 

Here is where I ask for your help. The bills have begun rolling in and we are overwhelmed with the cost of so much emergency care and intervention: the ambulance, two ERs, careflight, ICU for 9 days, three initial heart procedures, and eventual cardio rehab—it adds up to a lot. And now we have another heart surgery coming up. Along with those costs, we don’t know when Aaron will be able to work again. But first and foremost, let me say this—we welcome any and all love, support, messages, prayers, and good wishes, and if that is what you have to offer, we gladly receive it with open arms. Full stop. But if you have any little extra to support us financially as well, that would help us so very much. Any amount helps, even if it’s just a few dollars.

One other way you can help us is just to share this link. We would so appreciate if you posted it to your social media or sent it to someone who might feel connected to our story.

We are so very grateful for each of you who took the time to read our story and offer loving support, financial or otherwise. I hope you will feel our gratitude and hold your loved ones a little closer. And maybe also be reminded that miracles still happen, because we are proof of that.

With so much love,

Heather and Aaron