Monday, October 9, 2023
Our plan for that morning was for Danielle to take the boys to school/daycare and then come back to take me to urgent care. Danielle was texting with our friend Jeff and he had recommended that we go to the ER instead. While Danielle was gone, I felt the urge to go to the bathroom. I was able to stumble my way there and get to the toilet only to find that stuff was already coming out. I sat there for a while, sweating and weak. When I thought I was done, I somehow got up and changed my clothes only to have the same thing happen two more times. When Danielle came home, she found me gray and hunched over on the toilet, sweating and barely able to hold my head up. She asked if I could make it to the car but I could not. I was able to make it to the bed and that was all. 

Danielle called 911 and I laid waiting. I asked Danielle to grab my hat since I hadn't showered that morning (ha). I could hear the sirens approaching from the bedroom and remember feeling nervous for the unknown ahead. Several paramedics came into the bedroom and started attempting to take my vitals, however, they weren't able to get any readings. They kept blaming their equipment, but the reality is that I was in septic shock and my body was shutting down. I didn't have a fever because one of the body's defenses is to cool down. They couldn't get a blood oxygen reading on me either, because my lungs weren't working. They told me I had won an ambulance ride to the Emergency Room (yay?) and asked if I wanted to go to the Kaiser Sunnyside ER, which was in our insurance network, but was a 30-minute drive, or if we wanted to go to Mt. Hood Legacy, out of our network, but a 1.5 mile ride. I told them if insurance would cover it, let's go to the close one, thinking I could be home for dinner. 

The paramedics gave me a hard time about my Patriots hat and told me they wouldn't let me in with that hat on. They carried me out of the bedroom in a canvas tarp-like thing with straps, since the stretcher wouldn't fit the tight turns of the hallway. Once outside, they placed me on a stretcher and took me into the ambulance. I remember seeing my neighbor out front, which ended up being the last time I saw her healthy as she suffered a sever stroke shortly after I went into the hospital. 

Once in the ambulance, the paramedics worked to try to get my vitals again with no luck. They started an IV drip and connected me to oxygen. I was incredibly weak and frail but was still aware of my surroundings. One paramedic said they were going to "do lights and sirens" and that they "better tell his wife not to follow too closely." That was a bit of a red flag for me and the first time I realized that this might be more serious that I expected. Why do we need lights and sirens to just go up the hill a bit? Was I that sick? 

When we were about to reach the ER, the paramedic with me told me that once we got to the ER it would get pretty hectic for me and he made sure to say his goodbye ahead of our arrival. Once we arrived, I was  surrounded by a sea of medical professionals who were frantically running around me, taking X-rays and scans, and cutting my clothes off (I told them it was unnecessary and I would’ve taken them off to save my Reno Jazz Festival shirt!). One or two of the nursers had a connection to Boston and I remember us chatting about that. I could tell by their urgency that this was serious. The initial prognosis was that I had severe pneumonia and one of my lungs had a partial collapse or abscess.

I remember the doctor (Dr. Burger) telling me they were going to induce me “for a few days.” I told Danielle that I loved her and I asked her to let the boys know I loved them and also to tell work that I would be out for a week or so. Danielle was crying and I was trying to be strong and down-play the situation (not knowing anything about it) so she wouldn't worry. The anesthesiologist told me my only job was to relax and "go to my happy place," which I told him was anywhere with water and a fire pit (and my family, of course). That image was the last thing I remember.

If I had known how sick I was and the potential for this to be my last conversation with my wife, I would have said so much more. Garth Brooks has a song called “If Tomorrow Never Comes” that I think about often since this incident - ".....will she know how much I loved her? Did I try in every way to show her every day that she's my only one? And if this time on Earth were through and she must face this world without me, is the love I gave her in the past gonna be enough to last if tomorrow never comes?" 

The doctors told Danielle that I was within 2 hours of losing my life to septic shock, which they explain as "friendly fire." It's the body's extreme response to fighting an infection. My infection was Strep A Pneumonia. In late August, I had a "normal" case of COVID with symptoms that came and went. I didn't know that I had long-COVID, which is when your white blood cell count remains low after the disease and your immune system is compromised. Without a strong immune system, I was unable to fight the Strep A Pneumonia that I contracted in early October and it took over my body. The reaction was sepsis and septic shock, which is 100% treatable if caught in time, but is also one of the number one killers in the world if not caught in time, which is often the case. I came too close for comfort. It turned out that the ER we went to was the only one in the greater Portland area that had a portable Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation (ECMO) life support system. Had we gone to the further ER, been evaluated and transferred and then connected to ECMO, I wouldn't be here right now. 

The next time I saw Danielle, was three weeks later. Three weeks are a long time to not talk to your partner, or see your children, or know about the little things in each of their days. A lot happens in three weeks. I woke to a body that couldn't move, that was 30 pounds lighter, that had no muscle mass, that couldn't speak or communicate. I was trapped - stuck in a body that didn't cooperate with my mind, but more on that later. The next three weeks aren't really my story - it's the story of my family and friends, those who rose from all corners of my life to support and be there for my wife and two boys.

Usually, when a patient gets really sick, they are part of the process. They hear the prognosis, they research the disease and medical terms, they are part of the plan to fight and recover, they experience the fears and the victories. I was robbed of those experiences. The fear of death and loss was placed entirely on my wife and family. I had a level of awareness (more on that later), but I was not part of the experience. I live with the regret that my situation placed all of that on my loved ones.

I almost left this world on October 9th and then again a few days later during my second experience with cardiac arrest. I'm grateful for the medical professionals who gave of themselves and did their job with enough care and efficiency that I survived. Once I woke, survival was no longer a question, but the work to rebuild my body was the struggle ahead, among others.

Danielle's friend Caitlin started a CaringBridge account to take some of the pressure off of Danielle from having to respond to a flood of message. Caitlin made the first few posts and then Danielle was able to take over in order to keep everyone updated. Here is the initial post from October 9, 2023:

October 09, 2023
Hello friends and family of Dan Davey,
This is Danielle’s friend Caitlin, I am helping her with updating people while she is focusing on Dan and his recovery. I will do my best to update you all here and Danielle will take over when she is able to. 

Dan became ill with what appeared to be the flu Saturday afternoon. He had fevers, vomiting, and other flu like symptoms.  By Sunday night, he was drinking but struggling to breathe a little.  By this morning (Monday), Danielle saw he was gray and called 911. He was admitted right away and was soon in the ICU. After a long afternoon and evening here is what we know:

He has pneumonia with a bacterial infection that became septic. He is on IV antibiotics. His lungs were not functioning well enough to breathe so they quickly intubated him and put him in a medically induced coma. They also prepared and got the portable heart lung bypass machine along with the specialist transport doctor and he got that successfully installed by around 8:30 (it’s called an ECMO, not sure of spelling),

He will be transported to Emanuel hospital by around 10-12 tonight. Once there, he will be put on to the larger/not portable ECMO and after making sure he is stable he will then have a procedure to implant a heart pump (this is not an open heart surgery, it goes in from a vein). He needs a heart pump because his heart is too weak and it will support it better than the ECMO alone can (though that is helping his heart too). 

He has a large abscess in his left lung, and his right lung also has fluid in it.  Everything depends on how his organs hold up and his infection clears.  

Danielle is staying the night at Emanuel and will get update from doctors in the morning. Kathy is taking care of the kids.

That is everything I know now, everyone has Dan in our thoughts and we are doing our best to stay positive and hope and pray for his healing. 

Saturday, October 7, 2023
We had a busy weekend ahead! Danielle had a dress rehearsal Friday night with the Portland Wind Symphony ahead of their concert on Sunday afternoon. Danielle plays clarinet in the ensemble and is also the Associate Conductor. On Saturday, she was heading to beautiful Hood River for an overnight girls' weekend trip, returning Sunday morning for her performance. 

I woke on Saturday morning feeling sluggish. Something didn't feel right and I said to Danielle "yikes, I'm going to need a minute to get out of bed. I don't feel right." To me, it felt like the two times previous that I had COVID. The last time I had it was at the end of August. Danielle asked if she needed to cancel any of her plans, but I said I would be fine and just needed a minute. My body felt achy and I felt weak. Thinking it was just a cold, I got out of bed and got ready for a "Boys Day" with Eamon and Noah. 

As the day went on, I felt worse. I had chills and a fever and started vomiting in the afternoon. I kept Danielle updated on how I was feeling, but didn't want to bother her during her time away. I laid on the couch as the boys played around me with their normal higher-than-average energy levels. Worried I might pass out, I changed the passcode on my iPhone to match Eamon's passcode on his iPad. I called him over and showed him how to make phone calls using my phone. We practiced calling Danielle, Nana, and a few of my siblings. I felt better knowing that he would be able to call Danielle if something were to happen to me. 

When we called Danielle, she said she would come home, realizing that my situation was getting worse. I tried to change her mind, but she was already in the car and heading home. Once home, I was able to go lay in bed while she watched the boys. 

Sunday, October 8
​I don't remember much more from Saturday or even Sunday. There are text messages I sent to a friend saying that I was struggling to breath on Sunday and that I was feeling worse. Danielle's concert was that afternoon and her Mom came by to pick up the boys and take them to her house so that I could rest. I unfortunately missed the concert on Sunday, and the dinner that followed at my mother-in-law's house with Danielle and the boys. Eventually, I stopped vomiting sometime on Sunday and when Danielle and the boys returned, was even able to keep down some chicken broth and a popsicle. 

During the night on Sunday, I woke up to hear what sounded like popcorn popping in my chest as I was breathing. I woke Danielle and we called the 24-hour nurse hotline. The nurse's guided questions asked if I was still vomiting (no) and if I could keep down any liquids (yup, I had broth and a popsicle). She recommended we go to Urgent Care in the morning. 

We went back to sleep with the plan that Danielle would drive the boys to school/daycare in the morning and then return to take me to Urgent Care. In the next few hours, things progressed quickly. We didn't know it then, but we were racing against time.

Thursday, October 5, 2023
It was week 2 of Fall Term classes at Mt. Hood Community College. I took a personal day to chaperone Eamon's (age 5) kindergarten field trip to Wildwood Recreation Area on the Salmon River in Welches, Oregon. ​Due to the closure of the Stark Street Bridge, the shortest route to Eamon's school was blocked. The alternative route took me on highway 84. I called the front office let them know I was running late. They told me if the bus had left, then I could drive myself to the site. Upon arrival, the bus was waiting for me and a sad Eamon, who thought his Dad wasn't going to make it, was excited to see me! 

We rode the hot October bus to Wildwood. Once there, we broke into small groups. Eamon and his two friends Aeri and Braelynn were in my group and Braelynn's mom was my chaperone partner. We spent the crisp Fall day observing nature, listening for birds, looking at ferns, and watching salmon spawn in the river. I loved watching Eamon explore and interact with his friends and felt our bond growing throughout the day. 

Braelynn's mother told me about her husband, who had passed away from COVID-19 during the pandemic. She told me how he got sick on a Friday and passed on Sunday and that everything was so sudden and fast. I talked to Danielle about this that night, feeling so much sadness for their loss. Days later, Danielle faced the same reality, fortunately, with a different outcome.

That evening, our family (Me, Danielle, Eamon, and Noah) went to The Fork food trucks in Fairview, OR. The weather had warmed into the perfect Fall evening. We sat outside, eating delicious food while the boys enjoyed playing in the outdoor play area. 

As I laid in bed reflecting on the day, I told my wife Danielle that "Today was the perfect day. If it was my last, I would be ok with that." Of course, I just meant that it was the perfect day. Little did I know, it nearly was my last.