HOW MY SISTER SAVED HER HUSBAND'S LIFE

I have told the story about my brother-in-law's near death experience with a massive

 heart attack on my last blog. It was called "THEY PACKED HIM IN ICE".

This was a procedure of packing him in ice.  It was done after they delivered him to the hospital

and after he received emergency care and then surgery that placed stints in his main

artery to his heart.  The packing of ice prevented possible brain damage.


 Laurie,  my sister, was first on the scene and she was the primary one who saved him

by giving him compressions on his heart. She had seen it done on TV  and

remembered how it is done. She began the compressions, shortly after she

arrived on the scene when she saw he wasn't breathing.  Thank God she knew

what to do because there are only a  few minutes after a heart attack patient

becomes unconscious or comatose  to do something about it.

     I thought it would be important to show you what she did. I found instructions

 on Youtube. So, I'm providing a link for you to watch the young woman perform

the compressions, as my sister, Laurie did. If you haven't read my story,

 please scroll down and read the rest of the

advice and information on this subject.

     Be prepared. You never know when this information may come in handy.

It could mean the difference of life and death, as it was to my brother-in-law, Kenny.

Please click on the link to youtube ,&l

Janine'smachine: HOW LAURIE SAVED HER HUSBAND'S LIFE

Janine'smachine: HOW LAURIE SAVED HER HUSBAND'S LIFEhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLVedjh0aYI&feature=fvst

THEY PACKED HIM IN ICE

    “They packed him in ice? My God, why?’ That was my response to my sister when she called me a few weeks ago from Richmond, Virginia. She told me that her husband Kenny had a massive heart attack. He is a tall strong guy who is 59 years old and was thinking of retiring early. On that particular day, Kenny was singularly, tearing down a wall of their house and breaking up tile, with all his might. The plan was to remodel the house and place it on the market and then to downsize to a smaller house for their eventual retirement. He placed a lot of effort on this job, as he admitted when he called my sister on the phone.

     My sister, Laurie was on her way home from work, only a few minutes from the house. When she answered her cell phone, Kenny said, “I must have overdone it. I feel chest pains and hurt all over.”

     Laurie said, “Are you nauseated?”

     Her husband of many years said, “No, but I have really bad indigestion.”

     Laurie said, “Oh no. Call 911 right now and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

     Laurie was aware of the symptoms of a heart attack and knew that indigestion

was one of them. She knew she was racing against time that day as she neared

the house. She prayed that her fears were unfounded.She ran to the front door and entered the living room where Kenny was sitting in his chair. His head was leaning to its side. She spoke to him and he didn’t respond. She leaned down and listened for his breathing and there was none. She knew her worst fears were real. She began pushing on his chest. When she realized that was not going to work she grabbed a hold of his feet and pulled him off his chair, as fast and forcefully as she could. At the time,she was afraid she hurt his head, but she knew she had to do all she could remember to save him. She had seen emergency people 30 years before attempt to resuscitate a man. She saw them use CPR fruitlessly. But more recently, she saw on  TV where compressions were  recommended when there was an untrained person present in the company of the heart attack victim. She said she learned to place one hand over the other and push down on his chest in a one two push rhythm. And that is what she proceeded to do. She said she blew her breath in his mouth a couple of times, but there was no response, so she continued with the compressions.

     

     Shortly after she had been working on her husband’s chest the EMS arrived at

he door. She screamed out, “Hurry, hurry.”

     When the paramedics came in the living room, one of the guys dropped his

mouth wide open in surprise. He said she was doing a good job and asked her

if she could continue with what she was doing while he set up. She continued the

compressions until they took over. They took him to two hospitals, while Laurie

frantically went looking for him. When the emergency people found the right

hospital, they waited for the cardiologist to  arrive. They told my sister her

husband was gravely ill. After a quick surgery placing stints in his main artery,

they took him to ICU and packed his body in ice to bring down his temperature

to 90 degrees. They kept him on ice 24 hours. Then they removed the ice.

     The whole family was surprised that he was being treated in such a fashion.

Needless to say I was, as well. So, I googled and researched the ice packing of heart patients. One of the first articles to pop up was Jeffrey Dobkin’s, “A Technique For Delaying Brain Death in Heart Attack Victims”, Please check it out, you never know when this can make the difference in life and death.

<http://www.dobkin.com/content/articles/DelayingBrainDeath.asp> His article is

very interesting.

     

     Quickly, I will tell you that this is a procedure that can be done to delay the

irreversible brain damage thought to occur when no oxygen reaches the brain

for four minutes. He also discusses that in case of emergency, when there is no

other immediate remedy and you live in the country and you have a heart attack

or someone else does, another one present can wrap the heart victim in plastic

grocery bags filled with ice from your freezer. Or merely wrapping one’s face

with the ice to cool the body can bring the body temperature down to mimic

hypothermia. The odds of someone surviving after becoming comatose are

not good: 75 % are never revived or die shortly after.

     The wrapping of ice for crucial cases started in Australia. And apparently it

is being used up east in Virginia. I can’t help wondering if the procedure is

used in Texas yet.

    At any rate, I’m delighted to tell you that four weeks later, my brother-in-law is

up walking and talking and the only effect he feels from the coronary is some

short term memory loss which is being treated. The doctor told him he could play

golf again, but to let someone else do the carpentry work.

     Thank the universe and God that my sister knew what to do to save his life

and the progressive doctors up east were smart enough to pack him in ice.

   
        DON'T FORGET TO READ THE LINK ABOVE.

MY SURPRISE INTRUDER IN MEAN DALLAS (PART FOUR)

                                    MY SURPRISE INTRUDER IN MEAN DALLAS          

                                                       (PART FOUR)

     Two kind and patient police detectives delivered the two toddlers and me to the

downtown police station in Dallas. They held the childrens' hands and directed us to the

room, next to  where the lineup was to take place. They gave them books and toys to play

with and we told them I needed to go into the next room to see some people, but I would

be right back. They seemed content to stay and play.

     I went into a room that was dimly lit with an elevated stage with lights. There were

numbers printed on the wall above the stage with arrows that pointed down. There were

numerous chairs situated to accommodate people to see the show. I was apprehensive to

be in the same room with  the intruder. I told them I was sure I could identify him if he

was there. But I was concerned that he would see me. They assured me that there was no

way he would be able to see me because the room was set up so that the lights  on the

men  would highlight them, but hide me because I would be in an almost dark area. They

also explained that five of the guys were people I was not familiar with. Usually, they

chose the phony guys from around the station, with officers included. So, they knew if I

did not choose the perpetrator whom they arrested for the crime, and instead I chose

someone else, more than likely they had the wrong guy.

     I walked into the dark room and looked up at the empty stage. After a few

minutes, in walked six men. Each of them lined up under a number. As a group, they

were dressed similarly. They wore short sleeve casual shirts and dark trousers. As I

scanned the group I was careful to study the face of each and every one of them.

Then I went back over them again with my eyes to make sure. I don’t remember

which number he was standing under, but I picked him out of the crowd, just the

same.

     As it turned out, they told me that I indeed chose the man who was the only

one, not a member of the staff. They said they felt good about it, but the next

thing they had to do was to call in the other woman who had the similar

experience. I don’t know if she followed me that day or if she came in

the next day. But the police called me after a couple of days and told me

they had their man. Not only did the other woman select the same man in the

lineup as I did, but the man made a confession. He also confessed to other crimes.

He admitted to raping one woman and committing indecent exposure on at least

two times. After hearing that, I felt lucky that my surprise intruder did not commit

any of those  crimes with me. The detectives who called me said that the DA’s office

would be getting in touch with me later. They told me they would need my statement

that verified that I had identified the intruder that walked in my home and threatened

me several months earlier.

     In October, when the Oklahoma University and Texas University game was

planned, the DA’s office called and said they needed me to come to the Dallas County

Court House to make my statement in which I had identified the surprise intruder.

 It was to be on Friday before the Saturday game. My parents were coming to town from

Oklahoma City, to see the big game the next day. They told me they would accompany

 me to the Court House. When we got there many people were waiting for trials,

depositions and whatever business they had related to crime. It was a very busy

place and difficult to find our way around and to get  information. There were obvious 

criminals in chains and witnesses and they all seemed to be treated alike. The bureaucratic

 workers treated us all like criminals. They were rude and appeared disinterested 

in guiding us anywhere. Eventually,  I found my place to do what I had gone there 

to do. I was certainly glad to finish and get away from there.

     Somehow I heard later that the intruder was convicted and sent to prison.

But afterwards, I thought I saw him from one time to another. Once, I did call the

police station and ask someone if the intruder had been released

from prison and whomever I talked to said, “No, he hasn’t and he won’t be out

for sometime.” Perhaps that is a typical response from a victim, always looking

over her shoulder.  I can imagine  how bad it is for a victim who was really

 hurt. It has to be a terrible feeling. I was indeed blessed that I wasn’t

     We only stayed in Dallas a few more months. We never felt comfortable there.

Five years later when President Kennedy was shot, my husband said, “I bet his killer

is from South Dallas, or Oak Cliff. Sure enough he was and that is where he was

captured.

     After all these years, I’ll never forget the day I had a surprise intruder in “mean

Dallas.” And I’ll always know I was lucky to be unharmed. And we were all lucky

that the police were concerned enough to find the criminal and take him off the streets.

MY SURPRISE INTRUDER IN MEAN DALLAS (PART 3)

     The next week, after I was surprised by the intruder in south Dallas, the police office

 called and  told me they wanted me to come downtown to the main police station to

 look through their collection of mug shots.  My husband took off work

and drove me to the station. The police in charge of my case were very cordial and

brought out several books of photos. I went through them and said, "I will certainly

recognize the man when I see him because it was such a shock to look at a strange

face when I first awoke that morning."

     After looking through numerous collections of criminals' photos , I did not see

anyone that resembled the man who walked into my bedroom the week before.
   
      " If you can't see him in these photos, we would  like for you to give

 the description to the best of your ability to one of our men,  who is an artist," said the

 policeman in charge.

     "Sure," I said.  "I will do the best that I can."

     The artist started drawing an outline of a head. He said, "Did he have a receding

hairline or was his head full of hair that was combed back or was it real short?"

     I told him his hair did recede a little and it was not dark but light brown in color.

I couldn't say what color his eyes were.

    The artist asked me about his clothes and I told him his shirt and pants matched in

gray color like a service man would wear. That is, a serviceman who worked on

appliances or for a utilities service.

     When the artist finished the "composite picture", as they referred to it, it looked

somewhat the way I remembered seeing him. The policeman in charge of my

 investigation said that this would help in finding the intruder and you never know

what kind of crime he could be involved in and they wanted to find him. However,

 they said the picture may not look as he looks now because there was always

the possibility that he would grow a beard and let his hair grow longer. In that

case, it would be more difficult to identify him with my description.

     As we left the police station, I told my husband that I couldn't believe that

 the police spent so much time on my case where something that could have

been bad turned out to be not too significant. It was significant to me, but I

would have thought that the police in a city as big as Dallas wouldn't be as

concerned with my case.  My husband said that obviously Dallas was trying

to clean up the crime that the city had been so well known for so many years.

     The next month my husband found us a nice two bedroom brick duplex

 across town. He said his boss's daughter lived in the neighborhood and it

was clean and better than the neighborhood we first moved to. The duplex

was right off the North Central Expressway and convenient to my husband's work.

We moved in and looked forward to entertaining company for dinners and out

of town guests. There was also a nice sidewalk that circled the neighborhood.

I was able to push Susi in her stroller and walk around the neighborhood.

     It was good to feel safe again and not  have to worry about the crime that

 existed so frequently in the south part of Dallas, Oak Cliff.

     One week Faye and Duckett visited us from our hometown of Cuero.

They came to Dallas to an Oldsmobile show and  meeting. They brought their

little boy Corey, who was Susi's age to visit us. Corey and Susi had fun playing

in the backyard. When Corey's parents were gone to the meeting, I got a call

from a detective at the Police Station. He asked if I could come downtown

to a lineup.

      It so happened that another young woman had a similar experience to mine. When

she described her intruder, his appearance was near that which I described. They

staked out her house which was across town from where I saw the man. But a week

later they saw a man drive down her street real slow and they followed him and picked

him up. They told me that he would be in a lineup with several other men, that afternoon.

        "I can't possibly come down there because I'm taking care of two toddler children

and I have nowhere to leave them," I said.

     "Don't worry," the detective said, "I will bring another detective with me and we

will pick up you and the kids and drive you to the station."

     "In that case," I said, "I guess I can come."

     When the detectives picked the children and me up they told me that the detectives

that were staking out the other young woman's house had a sketch that the artist had

 drawn from my description, and her description. And the man looked like the sketch.
   
     That's amazing, to think they would still pursue my case and the other case that was

 similar.

     I thought to myself. These guys are really trying to clean up the crime in this city.

CONTINUED ON POST FOUR, NEXT WEEK. Who do I see in the lineup?

MY SURPRISE INTRUDER IN MEAN DALLAS (PART TWO)

     One morning my husband decided to leave the car and take the bus to work. His office

was in the Adolphus Tower, downtown Dallas. He told me to stay in bed and he would

call me later. He walked out of the house and down the block to the corner to wait for the

 bus. Shortly afterwards, I don't know what made me awaken, but I did. When I looked up

 a white man was standing over my bed with a wrench in his hand. He was dressed in a

gray shirt with gray pants. He was of medium stature and had an unshaven face.
   
       I pulled the sheet up as high as I could over my scantily dressed body and whispered,

 "What do you want?"
 
     People next door were backing out of their driveway and they were as close as

one room away. But I could not have screamed  if I had to. I was almost voiceless.
 
     At that moment, our daughter began to stir in her bed, next to ours. When she looked

 up she began to whimper and looked like she would cry. The intruder looked at her and

 then looked at me and said, "Don't call the police or I'll be back."
 
     He then turned around and ran out of the bedroom and through the apartment and out

the front door. I was angry, and scared, but in a crazy moment decided to give chase to the

surprising intruder. I wrapped the sheet around my body and ran to the front door. When

I opened the front door, I saw him fleeing to a car, parked in front, two houses down. I

wanted to chase after him and get the license plate number of his car, but because I was

 not dressed in appropriate attire, with my sheet wrapped around me, I decided not

to give chase. Instead, I screamed at a couple across the street, who apparently were

leaving for work or somewhere.
 
      "Can you get that man's car license number?"
 
     They looked up at me and down toward the fleeing man who was opening his car

 door and shook their heads no. There was no attempt to see what was wrong or to inquire

about my well being. They simply stared at me and got into their car and slowly

 drove away. Welcome to Dallas, I thought.
 
     I  securely locked  the front door, went back to the bedroom and dressed and  then went

 back and opened the front door again and no one was in sight. At this point our daughter

Susi was crying and needed attention. But so did I. I was pretty well shaken, but didn't

 know what to do. My husband had not been gone that long and I knew it would take

him awhile to get to his office. The only person I knew to call was my mother's good

 friend, Katherine, who lived across town in University Park.

     Aunt Katherine, as I called her, told me to stay put and she would send her husband

 Fred over to stay with me and he would call the police and give them our address.

In about 30 minutes Fred arrived to stay with me. Shortly afterwards a police detective

 arrived and took notes on what had happened and wrote down the description of the

man and his car that he drove away in.

     I told Fred that I would probably never hear from the police again. I didn't have much

 information on my intruder and I was  lucky he hadn't harmed me or our daughter.

     Later that  afternoon when my husband came home he said he would notify the

landlord and tell him we were going to break our lease and move elsewhere. He said we

didn't need to risk having the surprise intruder return.
   
     "Yea, I said. "That's a good idea. But the big problem is explaining to my mother

why you didn't lock the door when you left the house this morning."

CONTINUED NEXT POST

MY SURPRISE INTRUDER IN MEAN DALLAS

It was 1958 when my husband, daughter, and I moved to Dallas, and  my mother

said,"Lock your doors,  you are moving to the big city of Dallas, where there is

much meanness."


The meanness she referred to was the highly visible and talked about crime in

Dallas that was publicized in newspapers, radio, and TV all over Texas for years.

      
Gangsters discovered Dallas in the post war eras. There were nighttime

assassinations and assassination attempts around the city, illegal liquor sales,

uncontrollable gambling, and hundreds of prostitutes that lingered  in the city

 over several decades. Some say it really took hold when the Dallas city council

voted in favor of an "open city" that included these vices in their preparation

for the Texas Centennial that was held in Dallas in 1936.

      
By the end of the 1950's, earnest attempts to stem crime changed the

criminal climate and the big city's image, somewhat. My husband assured

my mother we would be safe.

      
My husband's colleague in his new job drove us around Dallas and

was quick to point out areas where crime occurred with more frequency.

One location, he pointed to was Candy Barr's residence. She

was an infamous burlesque star and friend to gangsters. She was employed

at Jack Ruby's club and many people flocked to see and  film her for her

gorgeous, natural beauty, especially in its natural state. She had been arrested

numerous times. Our  driver told us it wasn't unusual to have shootings

occur in her neighborhood. Her pictures are still popular on the internet today.

      
Later, we found out that my husband's colleague who drove us around

Dallas was not without a criminal background, as well. He had several  aliases

and different  wives under each name. However, he soon left the company

after we arrived. The very  famous oil company family who employed my

husband and his colleague did a good job of keeping the criminal

information under wraps.

      
Through my studies, I have since discovered that one reason Dallas

started cleaning up her act  was because "The Greater Dallas Crime

Commission" was organized earlier, in 1952. It was organized to help bring

some stability to the city and rid it of crime.

      
Also, when we arrived in Dallas, the famous District Attorney,

Henry Wade had been in office eight years and would continue to hold

office twenty-eight years more. He would eventually try and successfully

convict Jack Ruby in 1964 for assassinating  Lee Harvey Oswald who was

accused of assassinating President Kennedy, in Dallas, in 1963.

      
But interestingly Wade did not always win his cases. He would eventually

lose his case in "Roe vs. Wade, " which culminated in the Supreme Court's

Abortion Landmark case, in 1973, which made abortion legal. But no one

seemed to blame him because he was strict on law and order. But possibly too

quick on judgment as numerous cases have since been overturned using DNA

tests, that were not available then.

      
We found an affordable duplex that summer after my husband finished

college at UT Austin. It was in South Dallas, Oak Cliff. We bought the minimal

amount of second-hand furniture and set up house-keeping. We had one

bedroom, so we placed our daughter's baby bed near ours. She was still

in diapers and barely walking. We only had one air conditioner and placed it

in the living room. We opened the bedroom door and placed a fan near our

beds and it kept us relatively cool in the evening. We solved the problem

by sleeping simply,  in fewer clothes.  CONTINUED NEXT POST. SEE

WHAT HAPPENS TO ME IN MEAN DALLAS.