College senior Jio Rodriguez’s heart stopped while playing basketball, AED help was nearby

Until Jio Rodriguez was wheeled into the operating room for open-heart surgery on Valentine’s Day, he had never seen his brother Brian Rodriguez cry.

But February was a month of exploring the unknown for Jio, which until then had never given much thought to its health – and especially not its heart health.

Why should he? He was 21 years old, a college graduate, and had his mind set on getting a degree and job prospects. And that first evening in February, he was playing basketball with friends in the fitness center at Central Connecticut State University in New Britain.

Meanwhile, in the nearby sports center, his school’s basketball team, the Blue Devils, was playing the Saint Francis University Red Flash. On any other night, this match wouldn’t be as important to Jio and his teammates as their own match. But it turned out to be the first coincidence, the first domino, the first stroke of fortuitous fate that would ultimately save Jio’s life.

“What’s crazy,” says Jio, “is that if there hadn’t been a match, there wouldn’t have been any police officers. They were the ones who performed CPR and used the AED (automated external defibrillator) on me.

As Richard Homestead, a lieutenant with the Central Connecticut Police Force and one of those officers, said, “It was a perfect storm for Jio.”

Not only were Homestead and two other officers working the game, but two others happened to be there – Wayne Perritt, who was responding to another, less serious medical call, and Pamela Young, who was on routine patrol of the facility.

In the middle of the Blue Devils game, a fitness center staff member ran in, frantic and yelling that a young man had collapsed on the basketball court.

“Initially we thought maybe someone had a seizure,” Homestead said. “We ran and found Jio face down and unresponsive.”

Their training began, the choreography that comes from preparing to restart a heart stopped by cardiac arrest.

“The AED said shocking treatment was advised,” Homestead said, “which we did. Still no pulse.

Officers continued CPR until they detected a pulse and Jio began breathing on his own. He was rushed to hospital. three days later he regained consciousness.

“My first memory was waking up surrounded by my family and not knowing what was happening,” Jio said.

At first, neither did the doctors. At one point, COVID-19 was suspected, then a stroke. The medical teams told him that his case was unique.

“It was a little scary,” Jio said, “being one of a kind.”

Finally, images of his heart showed three aneurysms, weak spots in the walls of blood vessels that cause them to swell. His cardiologist concluded they were caused by Kawasaki disease, which creates inflammation of the blood vessels — particularly those that carry oxygen to the heart — and causes murmurs and heart irregularities.

His condition required a triple bypass, which took place on February 14, 2024. He remembers holding each of his parents’ hands tightly as he was carried down the hallway to the operating room and watching his brother in tear-filled eyes. Brian, a nurse at this hospital.

For days after the surgery, Jio felt like he was being stabbed in the chest. The days were endless; the nights were sleepless. However, little by little, he improved. He received a chest implantable cardioverter defibrillator as a safety net. If the device detects a problem, it can return the heart to a normal rhythm.

When Jio finally had an appetite, he craved his mother’s cooking. She brought him comfort foods like pork in sweet sauce, a Filipino breakfast dish from her family’s native country.

Despite his pain and adjusting to a whole new life, Jio was determined to graduate on time. He had stayed in touch with his professors, working online for two months and then returning to campus. Friends carried his books and backpack; others took him to and from his home or accompanied him on foot to and from the house.

“There’s nothing like seeing your heart stop to remind you how precious the gift of life is,” Jio said. “It’s terrifying, terrifying, terrifying when I think about it.”

Instead, he focuses on the future. He undergoes cardiac rehabilitation and begins to pay close attention to what he eats. His father bought him a watch to track his heart rate, which he does diligently. Jio also adopted a puppy, a Labrador-Dalmatian mix named Milo, whom he walks regularly. His cardiac appointments went well; he should have no repercussions for what happened, his doctors tell him.

In May, Jio walked 3 miles as part of the American Heart Association’s Greater New Haven Heart Walk and spoke about what happened to her. It was then that, for the first time, he met – in what Homestead described as “kind of an emotional reunion” – the three officers who had saved his life that cold February night.

A week later, Homestead and Young were there when Jio graduated from college. Young took a photo of the young man, in his cap and gown, whose life they had saved. Homestead is particularly appreciative of Jio’s positive outcome because he knows firsthand that CPR – as miraculous as it is known – is not always enough.

During his life in law enforcement, he performed CPR about a half-dozen times, he said. Jio was the first to survive.

“I try not to get caught up in my work,” Homestead said, “but sometimes I can’t help it.” »

Stories From the Heart chronicles the inspiring journeys of heart disease and stroke survivors, caregivers, and advocates.

American Heart Association News covers heart and brain health. Any views expressed in this story do not reflect the official position of the American Heart Association. Copyright is owned or held by the American Heart Association, Inc., and all rights are reserved.