EVERETT — Jim Hanson cheated death on his lunch break.
It was a pleasant March day, the kind that suggests spring might actually arrive. Hanson, a planner for the city of Everett, was headed to Garfield Park for a pickup ultimate Frisbee game.
It’s something he’d been doing on and off
for nearly 20 years, a way to squeeze in some exercise and get away from his desk for an hour.
Hanson had a lot on his mind that day: work deadlines, a sister’s illness, his 90-year-old mother’s care. That day, all of it would be set aside for something terrifying: his death.
• &
bull; •
For most of the game, Jim Hanson felt healthy, normal, alive.
Hanson, 62, has lived in Everett for more than two decades. He’s married to his best friend, Trish, and between them they have five grown children.
He’s an easy-going soul, the kind of guy who rarely raises his voice. It’s not that he doesn’t feel the stress; he just keeps it locked under the surface.
For the past several years, he has worked for the city as a long-range planner, helping with important projects that shape Everett’s future, like the downtown plan. Although he likes his work, he needs a break from sitting at his desk. He finds that reprieve during lunchtime pickup games of ultimate Frisbee.
It’s a fast-paced team sport with a lot of running. Players pass the disc down field to score, sort of like soccer with a Frisbee.
The day it happened, he remembers the other team had just scored a point. He was waiting down field for the disc to return to his team. Suddenly, he couldn’t pull in enough air. He felt tired and light-headed.
Hanson thought it might be a good idea to put his hands on his knees. He doesn’t know if they ever got there.
The world went black.
• • •
For Gerry Ervine, the first indications of trouble were the sharp, urgent questions from the other players.
“Jim, are you all right? Jim?”
Ervine has known Jim Hanson for nearly two decades. They work in the same city department.
Ervine was down the field when he turned and saw his friend face-down in the muddy grass. Hanson’s arms laid loosely at his side. Ervine sprinted over and helped turn Hanson over on his back. He put two fingers to his neck, searching for a pulse. Nothing.
Another player, Brandon Kloes, a student and volunteer firefighter, also searched for a pulse. Others were already clutching cell phones to their ears, asking 911 dispatchers to send help.
It had been nearly eight years since Ervine had last had CPR training, but he remembered enough. He pushed twice on his friend’s chest. Hanson’s lips were turning a sickening purple. It looked to Ervine like he needed some breath. Ervine leaned in, locked his mouth onto his friend’s and gave his own. Meanwhile, Kloes pushed rhythmically on Hanson’s chest.
For Ervine, those few minutes felt like a lifetime. When was help coming?
Hurry, hurry, hurry.
• • •
Paramedic Dan Galovic was in an ambulance at the intersection of Everett Avenue and Broadway when the call came in.
Less than a mile away at Garfield Park, Jim Hanson was laying in a muddy field, clinically dead.
It took just a few moments for aid cars to scream to the park and for first responders to rush across the muddy field, equipment in tow.
EMTs placed Hanson on a stiff backboard and got to work. They cut away his shirt and placed defibrillator pads on his chest. Then they shocked him.
Nothing.
Another shock.
Finally, nearly five minutes after Hanson collapsed, his heart started beating. He slowly opened his eyes.
Galovic inserted an IV and started drugs that would help restore a steady heartbeat.
Hanson woke up confused.
He had a sense of what was happening. A lot went through his mind. He thought about what his mother and wife would feel when they learned.
He knew he should have been grateful to be alive but instead he found himself angry about the disruption.
He was strapped to a board, being lifted and carried to an ambulance. Five or six paramedics and firefighters huddled above him and he could hear voices. He tried to talk. It felt like manhole cover was sitting on his chest.
One of the paramedics explained what happened: He had a heart attack. Hanson later learned one artery was nearly completely blocked. It wasn’t a total surprise. His own father had died of a massive heart attack at age 46. A son had serious heart trouble at age 23.
The doors slammed on the ambulance and it took only a few moments for the aid car to speed to the emergency room at Providence. Within minutes, people from the city were at his bedside and his wife was rushing to see him.
• • •
He was in the hospital for two days. Doctors cleared the blockage in his artery and placed a stent to keep it open.
He attended his first planning meeting at work the following week. It would take two months for him to completely recover.
A lot of things went right for Hanson that day, Galovic said. The aid car was close by. A hospital with one of the best-rated cardiac units in the country was just down the street. Friends performed CPR, helping move oxygen to his brain.
If Hanson had been sleeping or alone when the heart attack struck, it’s not likely he would have survived. If he hadn’t received CPR, he might have lived but not recovered fully.
Some things have changed for Hanson. He’s trying to quit smoking and he’s cut back on salt and caffeine. He eats a lot more vegetables.
Hanson appreciated life before but now it’s even more precious. He’s thankful for his friends, his family and the firefighters who helped save him. He no longer jokes about finding his obituary in the newspaper. He thinks maybe he should travel, write a will, spend more time with his family.
Tuesday, he returned to playing ultimate Frisbee for the first time since the incident.
His friends greeted him with handshakes and hugs. The day was typical Everett June: cool and miserable wet.
He scored a goal and ended the game exhilarated.
“I was soaking wet, it was pouring down rain,” he said. “And I felt great.”
Debra Smith: 425-339-3197 or dsmith@heraldnet.com.
CPR training
The Snohomish County chapter of the American Red Cross offers CPR training. For more information, call 425-252-4103 or go online to www.snohomishcounty.redcross.org.
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