September 2015
Jennifer
Hoon
,
BSN, RN, CCRN
Cardiac ICU
UF Health - Shands
Gainesville
,
FL
United States
Going on 20 years, a group of us make an annual trip to the Florida Keys for fishing, catching lobster and SCUBA diving. Most notably, and important to the story, are Jennifer Hoon, BSN, RN, CCRN who works in the Cardiac ICU at UF Health Shands Hospital and Robin Hoon. Both have been cardiac RNs since 1994 and love what they do. In fact, they save dollars and PTO to volunteer in the Dominican Republic, recovering needy patients following open heart surgery (three separate trips already!). Not many people can say they take time off from their real jobs to do the same thing with limited resources, double the hours, half the sleep and no compensation. But Jenn and Robin aren't like most; they're pretty extraordinary. This brings us back to the Keys and a fateful dive trip on August 18, 2015.
We arrive at the Thunderbolt: a huge sunken boat sitting upright in the sand, 120 feet below the surface, waiting to be explored. This wreck is nearly 200 feet long with a beautiful artificial reef and is haven to all sorts of creatures. It's one of our favorites! Conditions are average, but we collectively voice our frustration when we see another Dive Boat is already tied to the mooring buoy of the wreck. As we begin to don our SCUBA gear, we hear a female shout from the water towards the direction of her Dive boat, "we are having an event." Then she disappears. What happens next is chilling. The female Dive Master resurfaces in front of our boats with an unconscious man. Our immediate response is the concrete observation: "that guy is dead."
Orders are screamed towards the Dive Captain to radio for help. The Dive Master does not hesitate bringing the victim to Jenn and Robin's boat versus her Dive Boat which is much further away. As she pulls him around the bow of their boat, we see much clearer that "Dead Guy" is mottled and blue with a faucet of frothy fluid spewing from his mouth. A few seconds later, pumped full of adrenaline, they heave this large man up into their boat. There was no hesitation. Chest compressions are immediately started by Robin; Jenn confirms effective CPR with her fingers on the femoral artery. I've seen this countless times: the unspoken communication between these two nurses, the blazing efficiency, the laser focus of saving a life. Two full mouth-to-mouth breaths are given. Jenn feels a thready pulse, but the victim still is unconscious and not breathing on his own. Compressions are resumed. When the second round of breaths were given, the "Dead Guy," defying his newly appointed title, begins to cough, sputter and sucks in his own breath of air.
We run our boat over to the Dive Boat to collect the AED and large green Oxygen box. Returning to the "open water emergency response center" (i.e., the Hoon boat), we are amazed to find "Alive Guy" with significant color returning to his body. Jenn makes quick work of putting together the oxygen delivery system and even uses the packaging foam from the case as a make-shift pillow for the victim, allowing for him to remain on his side as he continues to expel caustic salt water from his screaming lungs. They make the arduous journey back to land as he still remains in critical condition. Thankfully, they are met by dozens of first responders. Shortly after, the patient is flown to Miami and remains hospitalized for several days.
One week after the event, "The Alive and Well Guy" connects with Jenn and Robin. He relays a tearful message of enormous gratitude and expresses sincere desire to one day meet his heroes. Of course, these nurses think nothing of it; they are simply thrilled to know he is ok. Jenn kept repeating, "[I'm] just happy we knew what to do" and hates to think what the outcome may have been if this diver had surfaced at any other boat.
To Jenn and Robin: your selfless and unbelievable act, your fantastic 'save at sea' and your passion for our profession is inspiring. I know you seek no accolades or special praise, but this story was just too incredible to go untold. Our little Keys group continues to be in awe of you two and the lives you touch every single day.
We arrive at the Thunderbolt: a huge sunken boat sitting upright in the sand, 120 feet below the surface, waiting to be explored. This wreck is nearly 200 feet long with a beautiful artificial reef and is haven to all sorts of creatures. It's one of our favorites! Conditions are average, but we collectively voice our frustration when we see another Dive Boat is already tied to the mooring buoy of the wreck. As we begin to don our SCUBA gear, we hear a female shout from the water towards the direction of her Dive boat, "we are having an event." Then she disappears. What happens next is chilling. The female Dive Master resurfaces in front of our boats with an unconscious man. Our immediate response is the concrete observation: "that guy is dead."
Orders are screamed towards the Dive Captain to radio for help. The Dive Master does not hesitate bringing the victim to Jenn and Robin's boat versus her Dive Boat which is much further away. As she pulls him around the bow of their boat, we see much clearer that "Dead Guy" is mottled and blue with a faucet of frothy fluid spewing from his mouth. A few seconds later, pumped full of adrenaline, they heave this large man up into their boat. There was no hesitation. Chest compressions are immediately started by Robin; Jenn confirms effective CPR with her fingers on the femoral artery. I've seen this countless times: the unspoken communication between these two nurses, the blazing efficiency, the laser focus of saving a life. Two full mouth-to-mouth breaths are given. Jenn feels a thready pulse, but the victim still is unconscious and not breathing on his own. Compressions are resumed. When the second round of breaths were given, the "Dead Guy," defying his newly appointed title, begins to cough, sputter and sucks in his own breath of air.
We run our boat over to the Dive Boat to collect the AED and large green Oxygen box. Returning to the "open water emergency response center" (i.e., the Hoon boat), we are amazed to find "Alive Guy" with significant color returning to his body. Jenn makes quick work of putting together the oxygen delivery system and even uses the packaging foam from the case as a make-shift pillow for the victim, allowing for him to remain on his side as he continues to expel caustic salt water from his screaming lungs. They make the arduous journey back to land as he still remains in critical condition. Thankfully, they are met by dozens of first responders. Shortly after, the patient is flown to Miami and remains hospitalized for several days.
One week after the event, "The Alive and Well Guy" connects with Jenn and Robin. He relays a tearful message of enormous gratitude and expresses sincere desire to one day meet his heroes. Of course, these nurses think nothing of it; they are simply thrilled to know he is ok. Jenn kept repeating, "[I'm] just happy we knew what to do" and hates to think what the outcome may have been if this diver had surfaced at any other boat.
To Jenn and Robin: your selfless and unbelievable act, your fantastic 'save at sea' and your passion for our profession is inspiring. I know you seek no accolades or special praise, but this story was just too incredible to go untold. Our little Keys group continues to be in awe of you two and the lives you touch every single day.