Every year around this time, I get together with four guys I've known 20+ years for a weekend of golf and our fantasy football draft. We wrapped up our first 18 about 1 o'clock on Friday and headed out to find somewhere to eat. I'm driving, my friend Greg is in the passenger seat making us all laugh as usual. Everything was perfectly normal.
Mid sentence, Greg starts snoring. We assume this is one of his bad practical jokes, but as I look over something is clearly wrong. We start slapping him, punching him, yelling his name - no response. I know an emergency room is about 2 miles away, but for those of you who are familiar with 174 in Burleson, it's about the longest 2 miles imaginable.
I'm honking, weaving in and out of traffic when Greg stops breathing and goes completely limp. One of the guys in the back calls 911. We are a block away from the ER, and I am determined to get there, but the 911 operator is adamant: pull over immediately and get Greg out of the car.
I make a hard right into the QT parking lot slamming Greg's head into the window in the process. In one of many moments I am not able to explain, my friend and I pull Greg's lifeless body from the car and lay him in the grass with complete ease - and Greg is not small. We start chest compressions immediately. Because of our proximity to the ER, the ambulance arrives in less than 2 minutes and takes over.
They work on Greg for 20 minutes there in the parking lot before transporting him to the hospital. A crowd had gathered and we are praying, pleading with God to save our friend. But he was dead. I knew it. I saw it. The doctors later confirmed it. But due to an extraordinary chain of "coincidences", Greg was able to be resuscitated, and is now progressing better than anyone could have ever imagined.
We're learning more and more about the anomalies that happened once Greg arrived at the hospital. I still don't have a good handle on those things yet, but I do want to share some of those coincidences that took place beforehand to make where we are at even possible.
1. We've been doing this for a long time. Greg always drives. For some reason, I was driving that day.
2. We're spread out all over the metroplex from Aledo to Wylie, so it's typical for us to be in separate cars. On Friday, we all met at my house and rode together. That meant two in the group would drive 25 minutes past the course to get to my house. Everyone did something critical in those moments. If we are in separate cars, and only one or two of us are with Greg, the outcome is likely very different. One in the group said if he'd realized he was passing the course on the way to my house, he would have met us there instead.
3. Greg lost consciousness 2 miles from an ER. This allowed us to get one block away from the ER when he stopped breathing which meant all the ambulance had to do was cross from one parking lot to another. It arrived in less than two minutes from the beginning of the 911 call. If Greg loses consciousness a minute or two earlier, it would have taken the ambulance considerably longer to get to us. There is so much traffic on that road, stop lights every quarter mile, and we were on the opposite side of the street from where the ambulance was coming.
4. We happened to have a CPR instructor in our group who filled the gap between pulling over and the paramedics arriving.
5. There was chain of phone calls that went from one of the guys in our group to his wife, to Greg's mother-in-law, to Greg's wife, to her sister who works at Harris Hospital and finally back to the guy in our group where it started just seconds before the ambulance left for Huguley Hospital. The sister works at Harris Hospital, and was able to convince the paramedics to take him there as Harris has the level 1 trauma center which was necessary for Greg to survive. If that chain starts 30 seconds later, if there is a single missed call, the ambulance leaves for Huguley.
6. After our round of golf, we decided to find somewhere to eat on the way home instead of eating in the clubhouse. We ALWAYS hang out in the clubhouse after we play, and that was the plan. If we stay at the course or stop anywhere along the way it's a much longer response time.
The doctors said less than 1% of people survive this kind of event. Greg was a ticking time bomb with a 100% blockage of his coronary artery. This could have happened at any moment in so many other places. He played golf alone on Wednesday afternoon. He's on the road constantly for work. He could have been driving somewhere with his family. Instead, this happened within an incredibly tight window where all of the above perfectly aligned.
This has all been incredibly difficult to process. I am 100% certain that God's providential hand was at work here, but I catch myself saying that and think, well, when is it not? It is easy to praise God and give Him all the glory when things go our way, but so often that is not the case. And so that question of "why" lingers. I can only rest in the fact that He is God, and I am not. I cannot see the big picture. But I am overwhelmed with gratitude that things went our way this time.
Finally, I ask that you pray for Greg and his family. The doctors are all at a loss for words at the rate in which he is progressing, but there is still a long road ahead. Thank you guys.
Mid sentence, Greg starts snoring. We assume this is one of his bad practical jokes, but as I look over something is clearly wrong. We start slapping him, punching him, yelling his name - no response. I know an emergency room is about 2 miles away, but for those of you who are familiar with 174 in Burleson, it's about the longest 2 miles imaginable.
I'm honking, weaving in and out of traffic when Greg stops breathing and goes completely limp. One of the guys in the back calls 911. We are a block away from the ER, and I am determined to get there, but the 911 operator is adamant: pull over immediately and get Greg out of the car.
I make a hard right into the QT parking lot slamming Greg's head into the window in the process. In one of many moments I am not able to explain, my friend and I pull Greg's lifeless body from the car and lay him in the grass with complete ease - and Greg is not small. We start chest compressions immediately. Because of our proximity to the ER, the ambulance arrives in less than 2 minutes and takes over.
They work on Greg for 20 minutes there in the parking lot before transporting him to the hospital. A crowd had gathered and we are praying, pleading with God to save our friend. But he was dead. I knew it. I saw it. The doctors later confirmed it. But due to an extraordinary chain of "coincidences", Greg was able to be resuscitated, and is now progressing better than anyone could have ever imagined.
We're learning more and more about the anomalies that happened once Greg arrived at the hospital. I still don't have a good handle on those things yet, but I do want to share some of those coincidences that took place beforehand to make where we are at even possible.
1. We've been doing this for a long time. Greg always drives. For some reason, I was driving that day.
2. We're spread out all over the metroplex from Aledo to Wylie, so it's typical for us to be in separate cars. On Friday, we all met at my house and rode together. That meant two in the group would drive 25 minutes past the course to get to my house. Everyone did something critical in those moments. If we are in separate cars, and only one or two of us are with Greg, the outcome is likely very different. One in the group said if he'd realized he was passing the course on the way to my house, he would have met us there instead.
3. Greg lost consciousness 2 miles from an ER. This allowed us to get one block away from the ER when he stopped breathing which meant all the ambulance had to do was cross from one parking lot to another. It arrived in less than two minutes from the beginning of the 911 call. If Greg loses consciousness a minute or two earlier, it would have taken the ambulance considerably longer to get to us. There is so much traffic on that road, stop lights every quarter mile, and we were on the opposite side of the street from where the ambulance was coming.
4. We happened to have a CPR instructor in our group who filled the gap between pulling over and the paramedics arriving.
5. There was chain of phone calls that went from one of the guys in our group to his wife, to Greg's mother-in-law, to Greg's wife, to her sister who works at Harris Hospital and finally back to the guy in our group where it started just seconds before the ambulance left for Huguley Hospital. The sister works at Harris Hospital, and was able to convince the paramedics to take him there as Harris has the level 1 trauma center which was necessary for Greg to survive. If that chain starts 30 seconds later, if there is a single missed call, the ambulance leaves for Huguley.
6. After our round of golf, we decided to find somewhere to eat on the way home instead of eating in the clubhouse. We ALWAYS hang out in the clubhouse after we play, and that was the plan. If we stay at the course or stop anywhere along the way it's a much longer response time.
The doctors said less than 1% of people survive this kind of event. Greg was a ticking time bomb with a 100% blockage of his coronary artery. This could have happened at any moment in so many other places. He played golf alone on Wednesday afternoon. He's on the road constantly for work. He could have been driving somewhere with his family. Instead, this happened within an incredibly tight window where all of the above perfectly aligned.
This has all been incredibly difficult to process. I am 100% certain that God's providential hand was at work here, but I catch myself saying that and think, well, when is it not? It is easy to praise God and give Him all the glory when things go our way, but so often that is not the case. And so that question of "why" lingers. I can only rest in the fact that He is God, and I am not. I cannot see the big picture. But I am overwhelmed with gratitude that things went our way this time.
Finally, I ask that you pray for Greg and his family. The doctors are all at a loss for words at the rate in which he is progressing, but there is still a long road ahead. Thank you guys.