05/23/2025
In honor of EMS week and with today being the Save-A-Life-Day we would like to share the stories of one of our amazing EMTs who saved a life!
It was Saturday, June 29, 2024—and I had the rare privilege of a day off when I would usually pull an EMS shift. We were home when my wife’s phone rang. She had a brief conversation with her mom, then turned to me, visibly uneasy.
“My mom said Dad passed out—but he came to after a few moments.”
Without missing a beat, I said, “Do you want me to go check on him?” She nodded.
I grabbed my jump bag and was out the door.
When I arrived, my father-in-law was slouched down on the couch, alert but clearly off. He brushed it off as nothing—but I knew better. He’s an immigrant, and English isn’t his first language, so communication can be a challenge. He’s also the type who doesn’t like to make a fuss and who doesn’t manage his diabetes very well.
I went to work checking his vitals:
Blood Pressure: 166/70 on the left arm — high.
Heart Rate: 40 bpm — bradycardic.
SpO2: 98%.
Blood Sugar: 320 mg/dL — dangerously high.
I took time explaining what the numbers meant and used simple, direct language to walk him through it. While I was there, I gently pushed him again on the need to better manage his diabetes—about food, water, consistency. He nodded, listened. But I could tell he wasn’t telling me everything.
So I kept asking:
"How are you feeling? Anything else? Chest tightness? Pain?"
At first, he insisted he was fine. But after a few more minutes—and a bit of hesitation—he finally admitted:
“Actually… there’s tightness. In my chest.”
That was the moment. The one I couldn’t ignore.
“You need to go to the hospital. Now.”
Thankfully, he agreed.
At the ER, they diagnosed him with Right Bundle Branch Block (RBBB)—a delay in the heart’s electrical conduction. In some cases, it’s benign. But paired with his symptoms—fainting, chest tightness, and a dangerously slow heart rate—it was a flashing red warning sign of potential complete heart block or cardiac arrest.
That night, they implanted a pacemaker.
Later, the cardiologist told us plainly:
“If he hadn’t come in when he did… he might not have made it through the night.”
I didn’t save his life with heroics. I showed up, listened, pushed past the language and cultural barriers, and trusted my instincts.
And sometimes, that’s what it takes to keep someone alive.