Having attended or played at many a Burns dinner, the most we had on our mind was the yearly dusting off of “A Man’s a Man for a’ That”. Little did we know things were about to take an unbelievable twist.

The evening was going extremely well: our pipes were humming and spot-on together, we had a warm and receptive crowd and the gentleman who gave the Address to the Haggis was fabulous. Colin and I both agreed afterwards that it was the best ode we ever heard. All in the room toasted “To the Haggis”, and threw back our scotch (Drambuie for me, thanks) as is customary.

Then in a moment which I can only describe as surreal, the gentleman who gave The Address, fell backward, stiff as a board, and struck his head on the floor.

As you can imagine, the crowd reacted with shock and disbelief.
Afterwards several people said they thought his collapse was a Pratt fall as that was just his kind of humour. All I remember hearing was Colin say, “Kelly, he’s down!” That was enough to jar me back to reality as we both threw our pipes and ran to his side.

From my 12 years experience as an Registered Nurse he appeared to me to be having a seizure. He was unresponsive and his face, arms and legs were rigid. Colin, who is a trained First Responder through work, called for people to move back and give us some space. I believe he also shouted, “It’s okay, she’s a nurse and she knows what she is doing!” I was really hoping I did, but you never know how you will react until you are in the moment. R.N. or not, I would be glad when EMS arrived.

When the gentleman stopped seizing, it was evident that he was having difficulty breathing and his pulse was weak. I put him in recovery position and then tried to re-acquire his pulse. A few seconds later Colin said “his face is turning blue” and I replied “I can’t get a pulse”. We quickly flipped him on his back and started CPR: Colin doing the chest compressions and me doing the breathing.

The compressions actually brought a pinkish hue back to his face but we both knew that CPR only keeps blood circulating until EMS arrives with the defibrillator. CPR doesn’t usually get the heart beating again, the defibrillator does. CPR buys the victim some time: seconds and minutes count.

By now someone across the room started shouting instructions from the 911 operator. The first thing they said was “Stop doing CPR, check to see if he is choking”. Colin and I looked at each other stunned, not quite understanding what we heard. I shouted back “We are so beyond that! He’s not choking, he isn’t breathing and has no pulse!” They I shouted back “keep doing CPR, until EMS gets there. Do 600 compressions”. We weren’t about to count compressions but there was no way we were stopping.

In critical situations, the perception of time is warped and expanded and it seemed like forever before Toronto Fire and EMS arrived. Someone told us later that it was only seven minutes until EMS arrived and 9 before he was defibrillated.

When EMS arrived they relieved Colin and I and began to work on him. As we stood watching all I could think was, “I hope he doesn’t die here in front of his wife and all his friends.” Looking around the room, I saw many grave and pale faces. People had their arms around each other and many people were saying silent prayers. I was relieved to see that several people were comforting the gentleman’s wife.

The few minutes before the defibrillator was ready felt like forever. The device itself actually speaks and we could hear it giving directions…”charging, clear, clear, clear, all hands off, beep, beep”…Wham-mo (well that’s my word for it).

After a while we could hear the firemen and EMS say we’ve got a heartbeat…he’s starting to breath on his own. The 100 or so people in the room collectively sighed, hugged each other and cried. When they transported him to hospital, he remained unconscious but his heart was beating and he was breathing on his own.

A week later, messages from his family inform us that he remains in hospital and is conscious and stable. He apparently suffered a massive heart attack but brain scans reveal that there was no damage due to anoxia. Whew!

Upon reflection, I learned a few things about people and myself. I learned that the positive outcome was a testament to what CPR training can do. I learned that it is difficult and strange to accept praise and thanks for these kind of actions because if you have the ability, you just react and don’t consciously choose. I learned about my friend Colin and how his innate qualities of being a man-of-action and natural-born leader, make him a good guy to have beside you in a crunch. On a personal level, I learned that I can function calmly in a crisis and although I may not have acted perfectly, it was good enough.

Kelly Crowe & Colin MacPherson
Toronto Police Pipe Band