Support Kyle After Surviving a Widow-Maker Heart Attack

Spoiler Alert: I survived!

Have you ever experienced something that was so good that you would describe it as “to die for”? I have… in the most literal sense.

A punk rock band from Australia (Amyl and the Sniffers) were coming to town and as soon as the concert date was announced, I knew I needed to go. Little did I know, this decision would save my life.

The night of the concert came and it was awesome! The band was badass (to die for), folks were crowd-surfing, and I picked up a couple vinyl records for myself from the merch table. After the show, Caitlyn and I were leaving the Paramount Theater and I started feeling a strange, tight pain in my chest. I thought it might have been from having a little too much fun in the mosh pit… turns out, I was having a massive heart attack.

I told Caitlyn I needed to sit down and take a break before we walked to our hotel. I grabbed a spot on a nearby bench while Caitlyn took photos of the Paramount sign and marquee. When she turned around, she found me laying face-down on the sidewalk without a pulse.

This is where the decision to go to a punk rock concert saved my life.

I was dead. I’m talking about mouth-frothing, pants-peeing, full-on dead. Caitlyn responded by flipping me over and calling on others to help. She and another concert-goer started CPR. An off-duty EMT was also at the concert and he stepped-in with some serious rib-cracking chest compressions.

With the off-duty EMT working on me, Caitlyn ran into the Paramount and retrieved their Automated External Defibrillator (AED). They shocked me with the AED which brought back a weak pulse before I died again. I got shocked a second time which got my heart to start up yet again. I was still receiving chest compressions when the ambulance and medical staff arrived.

I regained consciousness while being loaded into the ambulance. I can remember having air forced into my lungs by an EMT squeezing the bladder of a Bag-Valve Mask and shoving oxygen tubes into my nostrils. I don’t remember what I said but apparently I got everyone to laugh before Caitlyn could join us in the ambulance. She told me that was the first time she was able to take a breath during this ordeal.

The next thing I know, I’m waking up in Harborview’s ICU with a bunch of broken ribs, a ventilator down my throat, a catheter up my CENSORED, IVs in various parts of my body, and my wrists strapped to my gurney.

The doctor explained that I had suffered what is referred to as a Widow-Maker Heart Attack. This blew my mind because I was exercising regularly, eating healthy, and recently lost 30lbs. It turns out that the artery supplying my heart with blood was extra narrow and had become blocked. A stent was put into my heart in order to enlarge my artery to the appropriate size and keep it open.

The doctors and nurses were pretty astounded by my state and how quickly I was recovering. They told me that if it weren’t for everyone responding as I lay dead on the sidewalk, I would not have survived.

I was pretty damn lucky that night. As a matter of fact, some folks say that’s my nickname now- Lucky. All the stars lined up for me. If it weren’t for everyone giving me chest compressions or the Paramount having an AED or being so close to Harborview, I would be dead. It still blows my mind to think about the “what if’s”… if things were a little different. If I didn’t go to that punk rock show, I’d be dead. If I had that heart attack a couple hours later while I was asleep, I’d be dead. If it happened a couple hours earlier while I was driving with Caitlyn to the show, we could both be dead. In looking up the survival rates of events like this, I had less than a 10% chance of living through that night… yet here I am, lucky.

As you can imagine, going through an experience like this and living to tell the tale comes with a bunch of medical bills. I am asking for help with those expenses. I feel beyond fortunate for the help I received from loved ones and strangers the night of the event and during recovery that I hesitate asking for financial assistance. If you do choose to donate, only give only what you can spare. I’m lucky enough as it is.