September 15, 2022
Part 1 - The Day our “Framily” (Friends and Family) was forever changed

The following is a minute-by-minute history of the tragic events of September 15, 2022.  Some details are from my memory, other details were told to me later by others.


Steff started her day, as she would any other, by waking up and taking Davis to his morning church seminary at 6:50AM. She then got Livi ready to be picked up for school at 8:30AM. She made me some breakfast, brought it to me in my garage office and then went back upstairs for a bit. This is her normal routine, to take a few minutes and relax before she gets into her busy day. She was feeling okay and wasn’t experiencing anything “off”, at least nothing extreme, she had been having a pain in her knee for a while, but didn’t think too much about it. She made some calls, sent a few texts and made an Instagram/Facebook post about Davis and his water polo game from the night before.

At approximately 10:34, while on the phone with her close friend Jill, an ER nurse, the phone suddenly went quiet. Jill thought she heard snoring and called Steff’s name to get her attention. Steff didn’t respond and then Jill heard what she thought was agonal breathing indicating something was seriously wrong. Only an experienced nurse would know what this even sounds like, let alone act the way she did. She thought that maybe Steff was having a seizure or something. Jill then had the wherewithal to conference call my phone, so she didn’t lose the connection with Steff. I answered the phone on the first ring while working in the downstairs garage office. For those who know me, this was abnormal for me to have a clear calendar and to answer a call this quickly. I sometimes talk to Jill about stocks, so this was what I thought she was calling me about. This was our conversation to the best of my recollection:

Dylan – “Hey Jill”

Jill – “Are you home?”

Dylan – “Yeah”

Jill – “Can you go check on Steff?”

Dylan – “Right now?”

Jill – “Yes, right now, I think she may be having a seizure. I heard snoring and…”

Jill didn’t even finish this sentence. I jumped from my chair and bolted to our upstairs bedroom. I ran into the room and saw Steff laying on the bed with her phone still in her hand. Her face was beginning to turn blue. I called her name, “Steff! Steff!” Jill heard my yells echo through the phones since she still had us both on speakerphone. Jill asked, “Is Steff ok?” I responded quickly “No! She’s not breathing! Call 911,” I yelled back. We hung up the phone and I immediately picked Steff up from our bed and laid her down on the floor at the foot of the bed. “Steff! Steff!”, I cried in a panicked voice. Even though I told Jill to call 911, I realized in a split second that I needed to call 911 myself. I dialed 911, changed to speakerphone, and dropped the phone on the ground on the opposite side of Steff’s body.

Here is the 911 call to the best of my recollection:

Dispatch: “911, what’s your emergency?”

Dylan: “My wife is not breathing”

Dispatch: “What happened?”

Dylan: “She was on the phone with her friend, and she thought she might be having a seizure and I ran into our room; she is not breathing!”

Dispatch: “Does she have a history of seizures?”

Dylan: “No!”

Dispatch: “What is your address?”

Dylan: I gave them our address.

Dispatch: “What is the nearest cross street?”

Dylan: “I don’t know the nearest cross street…. Temecula Parkway”

Dispatch: “Ok. Paramedics are on their way; do you have an AED in the home?”

Dylan: “No!” I put my head down, squeezed Steff’s nose, and gave her one big breath and her chest rose. I didn’t see any immediate change.

Dispatch: “We need you to start CPR. Is she on the ground?”

Dylan:” Yes!”

Dispatch: “Ok, What I want you to do is take one hand, put it on top of the other hand and interlock your fingers. Place your palm in the center of her chest between the nipples. I want you to press down and make sure that you are pressing 2 inches into her chest and follow my pace”

As I made the very first chest compression, Steff’s face immediately went from blue to pink!  Then as I made the next compressions, her face faded to grey.  I continued compressions.

Dispatch: “One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four. You are doing great keep going. One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four”

I suddenly remembered that our front door was locked. I didn’t want any delay when the paramedics arrived, so while I continued compressions, I told the dispatch how they could get in.

Dylan: “My front door is locked, and the paramedics can use pin code ***** to get in.”

I could see Steff’s stomach rise every time I did a compression and could hear a slight gurgling noise, as a little drool came out of the side of her mouth. Despite the adrenaline pumping through my body, I could feel waves of a numbing sensation down my arms. I continued compressions. Tears were streaming down my face as I thought of our children without a mother and how my life would be without her. I remembered every time I had said something to Steff that wasn’t nice, and the times I went to bed angry about something stupid. I said a prayer that she would be ok, and I promised to be a better husband and called out, “Oh my God!”

Dispatch: “Ok, keep going. One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, they are almost there. Keep going. One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four, One-two-three-four”

I continued chest compressions for almost nine minutes, when I heard the best sound ever. From downstairs, I heard a man yelling, “Paramedics, where are you?” I yelled back, “I’m upstairs at the end of the hall.” The first paramedic entered the room and said, “Keep going” as he placed a paramedic bag on the floor near her right knee. The remaining paramedics entered the room and one of them stepped to my left side and said, “Ok, I am going to take over.” As he moved into position, another paramedic helped me to my feet while I stumbled towards the door. One of the paramedics asked my wife’s name and birthdate along with other questions related to any underlying health conditions, such as drug use, allergies and other things I can’t fully recall.

I told them “She doesn’t drink alcohol, coffee, smoke, or do drugs. She barely will take Aleve.”  She has no underlying health conditions, allergies, or any history of seizures or heart disease. I remembered that her family has some heart issues, but no sudden cardiac arrests that I am aware of,” I added.

As I finished answering the questions, I moved into the hallway. I could see them cutting off Steff’s pajama shirt and beginning to place the AED pads on her chest. I slumped and braced myself against the wall so I wouldn’t fall over. I couldn’t watch anymore. Aside from the questions from the paramedics, I don’t recall any other sounds. I see now that I must have been in shock. My memory of any audio was completely wiped away.

The paramedics proceeded to work on Steff for the next 30 minutes in our room trying to get her stable enough to transport. One of the paramedics came up to me and calmly said, “We have a pulse, and are getting ready to move her to the hospital.”  They quickly loaded her onto a gurney and carried her downstairs to the ambulance. They sped off to the Temecula Valley Hospital ER, thankfully just a few miles away.

I stayed behind to talk to the Sheriff. They needed to check our home for any signs of self-harm or foul play. It took a minute to gather my bearings, then I grabbed my keys and wallet from the garage. The Sheriff escorted me out of the house. With my mind racing, I hopped into my truck and started driving to the hospital. I began frantically calling people to tell them something had happened to Steff and that they needed to head to the hospital right away. I wasn’t sure what condition she was in, but I knew it was bad.

I arrived at the hospital and was immediately told that Steff’s heart had stopped again, and they lost her pulse. The ambulance paramedics continued CPR as they were preparing to transition her to the ER team. Our families and friends began to arrive and congregate in front of the building. There were small groups of people forming with tears, sadness and many hugs. I contemplated whether I should get the kids from school. I quivered at the thought of having to tell my children what was happening.  

I spoke to a family friend and decided that we needed to get the kids from school immediately. I wanted them here because I wasn’t sure if Steff was going to make it. They needed to see her. Steff’s family and friends rotated in two at a time to the ER to see her. She was barely clinging to life, and it was unbearable to see her that way.

Steff remained in the ER for approximately 3.5 hours when the decision was made to move her to the ICU. As I was waiting in front of the hospital to hear what room in the ICU Steff had been moved to, I received a call from the ICU doctor, and he asked me to meet him near the entrance to the main part of the hospital. He proceeded to tell me that while Steff was being moved to the ICU, her heart had stopped again.   I immediately broke down in tears and dropped to one knee as new shockwaves of distress came over me. I gathered myself and walked towards the entrance just as the doctor was coming out of the exit. He said, “I need you to come to the ICU room right away.”  

I went to the security desk and as soon as they knew that I was the spouse for the critical patient in 2107, they quickly gave me a badge and sent me on my way to the second floor. As I was walking down the hallway of the ICU towards Steff’s room, I could see a small army of nurses and doctors lining the halls with equipment outside of her room. I was terrified about what I was about to witness. As I got close, I could see inside of Steff’s room. She was surrounded by people in scrubs and wearing masks. I could see the glassiness in their eyes as they watched me enter the area in front of the room. Someone grabbed me and escorted me to a chair in the corner of the room and helped me sit down. Tears were streaming down my face as I put my head in my hands. I recall a flurry of blurry scrubs continuing to work around Steff. One of the doctors came up to me. I could barely look up to see him. He proceeded to tell me that they had gotten Steff’s heart going again, however it is unclear how much possible brain damage could have occurred based on how long Steff had been receiving CPR. He asked me, “If Steff’s heart stops again, do you want to continue attempting resuscitation, or not?” This was the most painful thing I could have heard at that moment. I gathered just enough energy to say, “Keep going.” That was the last time that Steff’s heart stopped. The next 48 hours would prove to be the most crucial. View Photos

Part 2 - The next 48 Hours
I will be continuing to add to the story about this miraculous experience over the upcoming days and weeks. If you would like to be notified, be sure to add yourself to the email or text update list. Signup to get story updates>
I love you all,
Dylan