Vince Graziano, Patchogue, NY – 40 at time of event (2009)
If you swim for nearly an hour a day, ride a bike 100 miles without a thought, and generally keep yourself in shape, you’d expect to be heart healthy, right? Well, not so. Not according to Vince. He’d just started work after his morning swim at the YMCA in downtown Manhattan. The usual Friday morning meeting had begun. Not a stressful event, just the regular, routine end to the freight scheduler’s work week. Except this was not going to be an ordinary end-of-week for Vince. He wouldn’t make the train back home that evening. In fact he wouldn’t make it to work on Monday morning either. And as for the early morning swim, he hasn’t done that for a few months now.
At the meeting Vince went all wobbly and fell off his chair. He didn’t make a sound, he just crumpled to the floor, interrupting the meeting. Lucky for Vince his co-workers knew what to do. One was a baseball coach and had been trained in CPR, the other was a reservist who also had training in first aid. They noticed Vince had no pulse and instantly began CPR, after calling out for someone to call 9-1-1.
This midtown building had a central security desk from where the emergency call went out. It also had an AED and the guard brought it up to the meeting room. He also deployed the device and it soon determined that Vince‘s heart was not beating properly, if at all. The AED was designed to rectify this situation and with one shock Vince’s pulse returned. His color and consciousness did not. The EMTs had to intubate him and start the IVs to help his heart recover. Then he was rushed to NYU Medical Centre where he needed to be defibrillated again. Unsure of the cause, but sure of the cardiac arrest, Vince was given therapeutic hypothermia treatment. There was little indication of the reason for his arrest and so the waiting game began.
Vince remained unconscious, but two days later he began to experience an MI. An emergency cardiac catheterization showed coronary artery blockages; 90-100% blocked. Stents and angioplasty were ruled out, and so the cardiac surgeon had to perform an emergency bypass. This was his only hope, but they were told his chances of survival were fifty/fifty. His ejection fraction was only in the range 10-15%.*
The following Tuesday Vince woke up to find himself in ICU with a tube down his throat. He couldn’t manage to write but the alphabet board helped him communicate. His first “words” to his wife, Maureen, were “Call work for me.” She replied “They already know!”
“I couldn’t believe that it had happened to me. I’m the oldest of three, my younger brother and sister as well as my parents all have high blood pressure. I was the healthy one in the family. Up until this!” Vince exclaimed.
“I’ve got everybody on the band wagon. The guys at work, my family [have all gone for a checkup],” Vince said with pride. Even the brokers of other companies in his close-knit industry have undertaken CPR courses and instruction on using an AED after hearing about Vince’s collapse.
Not only did Vince get to join “The Zipper Club” with the scars from open heart surgery, but he was also a candidate for an ICD. His return to the hospital for a follow up echocardiogram the next month determined that his EF had not improved. During those weeks he’d had to wear a LifeVest™ external defibrillator to protect him from the potential deadly arrhythmia associated with low EF. He’d passed the cardiac stress test that afternoon, even achieving the 13 minute mark which is the mid-point for his age range.
“I pictured them saying ‘Oh, everything is fine. You’d never know you’d had a heart attack.’ I’d felt really good since I left the hospital,” Vince said, a little perplexed that he needed the ICD implant. But he is appreciative that it will save him if he ever has another cardiac arrest.
-Jeremy Whitehead
* ejection fraction, EF, is a measure of heart function, a normal range is around 55%.