By Paul Leighton
BEVERLY — Brian O'Leary was running up the court at the end of his weekly game in the YMCA's over-50 basketball league, just as he has done thousands of times in thousands of other games over the years.
Only this time he felt different. First he became very dizzy. Then he felt himself falling down. The next thing he remembered, he was in an ambulance headed for Beverly Hospital.
It's what happened during that blackout period, O'Leary later learned, that saved his life.
With one shock of a defibrillator, Mary Ellen Mayo, the Y's youth services director, restarted O'Leary's heart. Two days later, O'Leary, 64, underwent triple bypass surgery at the Lahey Clinic Medical Center in Burlington.
"If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here," he said. "That's what the doctor said. He didn't even know how she brought me back."
Mayo wasn't even supposed to be at the YMCA's Sterling Center on the night of Feb. 4. She had switched shifts with a colleague in the manager-on-duty rotation.
When she heard someone running to the front desk to call 911, she grabbed the first-aid kit and the automated external defibrillator that is always on hand at the Y.
By the time she reached O'Leary lying on the basketball court, he had stopped breathing and his heart had stopped beating. His face was deep blue.
Mayo tossed a CPR mask to a doctor who had stopped at the Y to pick up his son from swimming lessons. While the doctor administered CPR, one of the basketball players pressed on O'Leary's chest.
The reading on the defibrillator showed no heartbeat. So Mayo, who has been teaching lifesaving classes for years, placed the pads on O'Leary's chest and gave him one shock. His heart started beating, and his pulse returned.
"I had the easiest job because the machine tells me exactly what to do," Mayo said. "The doctor and the player were the first responders."
O'Leary, who retired two years ago after a career with the U.S. Postal Service, said he had no history of heart trouble and had received a clean bill of health from his doctor a month ago. On the two days before his game, he had worked out on the Nautilus equipment at the Y.
It turned out his heart was fine, but three of his arteries were 80 percent blocked. The bypass operation should be good for 30 years, his doctor told him.
O'Leary's wife, Marie, said she has heard stories about how expertly and calmly Mayo responded that night.
"She was really, truly a hero in this whole thing," she said.
O'Leary and Mayo have seen each other a couple of times since the incident and have even been able to share a laugh.
"I told Brian blue wasn't his color," Mayo said.
Staff writer Paul Leighton can be reached at 978-338-2675 or pleighton@salemnews.com.
