Eriksen & My Uncle

Watching Denmark’s Christian Eriksen collapse to the point of needing a defibrillator in the first half of last Saturday’s European Championship group stage match against Finland was a surreal experience.

I had convinced myself that it’s not something I’d ever have to go through again. Sure, similar events had played out in 2012 with Bolton Wanderers’ Fabrice Muamba. But that too was rare. Sudden cardiac arrests aren’t a commonality in the world of football.

As I watched the incident unfold, there was a particular part of me that was most triggered — the part of me that had a very specific fear about cardiac arrests, exacerbated by the sudden death of my uncle two years ago.

Growing up, he was rarely present in my life due to various family feuds. But events in the last year, including moving out of my childhood home, changed things massively. We were about to piece back together the fragments of our relationship, speaking often via text and through phone calls. In doing so, he bridged a pathway to a maternal family that I had been denied communication with for decades.

That blossoming reunion, however, could only be enjoyed for a brief year; 365 days with him as a constant source of comfort that old connections could be saved, until one day, he sat down for dinner, laid his head peacefully on the table, and never got up again. An otherwise healthy, young man who would never see his family or his niece again.

The weight of that grief became heavy baggage that I carried in the years that followed — heavy only because of the unspent love I held within. Love that should have been used on the relationship I had with my uncle and instead had nowhere to go. That in itself was burdensome. But there was an even more cumbersome notion that kept replaying through my mind: why the response to my uncle’s collapse, although similar to Eriksen, hadn’t received a medical response as seamless as his.

Here in the UK we’ve become so used to having ambulances on call, arriving within 10 minutes for emergencies. It’s hard to think that you might ever have to be in a situation where that might not be the fastest route of action to take. That was and continues to be the exact situation in my home country, Pakistan. My relatives had to drive my uncle to the hospital rather than receiving treatment quickly on the scene. The route in itself was a turbulent one, and by the time they arrived at the hospital, he had been pronounced dead without a second opinion on whether resuscitation should’ve been considered. Without a thought that his heart could be revived. And even worse, for me personally, without a cause that could’ve perhaps brought some closure.

For years this was the biggest driver of my ongoing heart-related trauma and fears: not knowing what had happened. I spent months and months combing through the details and piecing things together to come to the conclusion I did arrive at after two years of pain. My uncle had suffered a mild heart attack a week before his passing as a result of myocarditis, an inflammation of the heart muscles often caused by some kind of viral infection. This then built up a week later into a fatal arrhythmia ultimately causing his death. The symptoms for this are quite unlike a heart attack. There is no radiating chest pain, shortness of breath, or arm numbness. You may feel dizzy or lightheaded — and then you simply collapse. Just as in Eriksen’s case, my uncle’s heart stopped because of that arrhythmia. And although the means were there to save him, there was no further investigation into what truly happened other than my own.

The only beneficial thing to come from this was the extensive knowledge I possess of exactly what to do in these situations. Information that just may save a life.

For instance, if you suspect someone is having a fatal arrhythmia and they are not conscious, begin CPR right away. Press 5–6cm deep into the chest for 30 compressions before switching to mouth-to-mouth breathing for two breaths and then repeat. Using this method early on, regardless of if you feel it to be a lost cause, is crucial to survival.

You can carry on with these compressions until you tire out or if the individual regains consciousness. However, if you can’t resuscitate successfully, then wait for emergency services to arrive. If you are trained, using an AED is also recommended, so to shock the heart back into action. These were the exact procedures followed quickly and seamlessly by the Danish medical team in the aftermath of Eriksen’s collapse and exactly why he survived.

From there on, the chances of recovering and identifying the true causes are normally very successful. Whether you require certain medication, cardioversion, or a pacemaker, there is no reason why you cannot receive the appropriate help to continue on with a normal life.

Eriksen is of course receiving exactly that via detailed tests and looks to be on the path to recovery — a prognosis that has brought me and many others relief and joy. The truth is though, I feel a deeper sense of melancholy that while he was saved and not given up on, my uncle did not receive the same attention. The education and knowledge that Denmark captain Simon Kjaer, and indeed this country, possess is something that remains lacking in many third-world regions like Pakistan.

The early CPR and use of AED machines that enabled Eriksen to survive are what we need to start implementing in countries that still have a ways to go in the medical field. In doing so we increase the number of people educated on what to do and reduce the number of avoidable deaths. I myself have gotten my first aid certificate in response to the events of the last few weeks, which means I am now a trained first-aider.

We need more people to receive their training too and add to the existing tally. Otherwise, the grief and unspent love I carry for my uncle’s death will continue to repeat unnecessarily despite the knowledge to prevent it.