Although I’ve lost 30 pounds in the last few months, I won’t be giving diet advice.

As with many guys in their 60s, the dietary changes I made were mandatory.

On Jan. 28 I collapsed on the floor of my home, and was dead for a few moments.

I didn’t know some of my wife’s thoughts until later, when I read three posts she made on Facebook for family and friends.

We’re grateful that we live close to a fire station.

Three minutes after my wife called 911, a two-person rescue crew arrived. Five minutes after that, I fell to the floor, just as five more EMTs arrived.

“Five guys worked furiously to bring him back, air bag, intubation, CPR so hard they broke a rib. But they brought him back,” Kenna wrote.

As I lay on the floor, I was turning blue, she said.

“I’ve never prayed so hard in my life,” she said later.

She was praying out loud, “Please God, let him live.” A police officer stood next to her.

I had a breathing problem that resulted in respiratory failure. Adult-onset asthma was compounded by chronic sinusitis, and a previously unknown allergy to Albuterol. Because of all that, my breathing and my heart stopped.

“Monday night, he went from fine to an hour later agreeing I should call an ambulance,” Kenna wrote. “Eight minutes from the moment I called, he collapsed.”

A police officer gave her a ride to the hospital.

“These past couple days, the trip to the ER, having to see him lying helpless in a bed with tubes down his throat, in his arms, multiple monitors recording every motion, I’m so grateful God worked the timing of everything out so that we are here, instead of making other arrangements.”

I spent more than a week in ICU. Eventually, the breathing tube was removed. Kenna is thankful that oxygen deprivation didn’t leave me with brain damage.

When our kids called, they were surprised and delighted that I was speaking coherently.

My wife was relieved that she called 911 when she did.

“All I could think was, if I’d waited until he fell to call …” she wrote.

Kenna gives a lot of credit to one doctor, “who made it his mission to figure out what happened.” In the hospital, that physician “noticed he didn’t respond to CPR until after they used an EpiPen.”

Another doctor noted in the hospital that I had been a very sick boy.

I give thanks to my guardian angel, and to God.

Kenna was relieved it all turned out well. It was too close for comfort.

We never know when our time will come. One lady who expressed gratitude for my recovery has now passed away.

My wife asked for prayers that we finally had the answer to what caused my problems.

“Because eight minutes isn’t a very long time,” she wrote.

Now, she’s just grateful it didn’t occur during the COVID-19 crisis. Who knows what could have happened?

Jeff Bahr is a reporter for The Independent. He may be reached at

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