ÌÇÐÄVlog

When Tyson Yeck rolled up to Max LeeKwai's remote cabin about an hour north of Portland, Oregon, he was ready to win.

Yeck, LeeKwai and 17 of their University of Oregon fraternity brothers convened for two days of competition. The winner of their "Boiling Man Cabin Games" – the name derived from a hot tub fiasco during an early gathering – takes possession of an engraved axe, plus the more valuable prize of bragging rights.

LeeKwai dreamed up the reunion-competition. The men split into teams for games like "The Blind Samurai," which involved guiding a blindfolded teammate through an obstacle course while knocking over pool noodles with a bamboo sword.

They gathered on a Friday in August 2022. The first night, the guys cooked pulled pork for dinner, relived their college days and decades of friendship, and caught up on careers and family. The next morning, they had breakfast burritos, then suited up for the first challenge of the day: badminton.

Yeck scored half his team's points with quick returns at the net. It wasn't surprising considering his excellent fitness; he lifted weights every morning and rode his exercise bike five days a week. The weekend before, he'd done a 26.3-mile charity hike through the mountains.

Next came "forest soccer." LeeKwai set up a course of goals made of PVC pipe. To score, the guys kicked the ball through ferns and under roots. Yeck's team went second. As he chased the ball into a bush, he felt winded. But he didn't think much of it.

Yeck and his teammates completed the course and LeeKwai called out their time. They trailed the first team by one second. Yeck dropped to the ground face-first and started shaking.

Given the timing, LeeKwai figured Yeck – who, in addition to being competitive, was also a jokester – was throwing a mock temper tantrum over the close loss.

As the seconds ticked by, LeeKwai began to worry.

LeeKwai, a volunteer firefighter trained as an emergency medical responder, crossed into the forest near Yeck. LeeKwai dropped to his knees and rolled Yeck over.

Yeck was gasping for air. LeeKwai's first thought was a seizure. But he didn't think Yeck had a history of seizures. Then he realized it was agonal breathing due to cardiac arrest, an electrical malfunction that causes the heart to stop beating.

One of the guys called 911 and LeeKwai started CPR. He told another to grab his emergency medical bag and radio from the cabin.

As LeeKwai pushed on Yeck's chest, the images in his head were of his friend's wife, Holly Yeck, his son, Skyler, and daughter, Brooklyn.

That weekend, the area happened to be hosting its biggest event of the year: the Providence Hood and Portland To Coast Relay, a relay race of up to about 200 miles featuring thousands of competitors. Ambulances and first responders were on standby. (LeeKwai, in fact, was among those on call.) Yet even though help was closer than it might be otherwise, there also was a chance the roads would be more congested than usual.

For 20 minutes, LeeKwai performed CPR. The other guys lingered nearby, shouting words of encouragement. "C'mon, Tyson! We're here for you, Tyson!" One of the men assembled LeeKwai's bag valve mask and used it to force air into Tyson's airway.

When a team of volunteer first responders from the Mist-Birkenfeld Rural Fire Protection District arrived, they shocked Tyson with an automated external defibrillator, or AED. Finally, they restored a sustainable heartbeat. With the closest hospital an hour away by car, first responders called for an air ambulance.

LeeKwai happened to have handy cans of spray paint to mark things for the competition. Now, the guys used orange and red to create a giant H, the universally recognized symbol for a helicopter landing spot.

As the helicopter flew away, with Tyson's fate still so uncertain, the chaotic scene gave way to silence.

One of the men called Tyson's parents and Holly. She was driving and pulled to the side of the road before getting the news. Another drove to Portland to meet Tyson's family at the hospital. The rest of the men tried to make sense of what had happened.

In Portland, Tyson's heart stopped several more times. Medical staff brought him back. He had emergency surgery to place a pump in his heart to mechanically move blood through his body.

He also received an implantable cardioverter defibrillator, or ICD. No one knew why Tyson, who was 43 at the time, had a cardiac arrest. But if it happened again, the device would deliver a shock to restore a normal heart rhythm.

A week later, Tyson went home. He couldn't walk 10 feet or tie his shoes. The next day, LeeKwai came over. Outside on the patio, Tyson took LeeKwai's hands. He struggled to find the right words.

"Thank you for saving my life," he finally said. Both broke down in tears.

Tyson did cardiac rehabilitation for six weeks. Among the skills he had to relearn was walking. He made small goals: walk to the mailbox, the stop sign, up a nearby hill. He pushed himself because he wanted to fully participate in his family's life again.

Soon, he started riding his stationary bike, rowing and doing light weightlifting. He went back to his job as vice president of corporate accounts at a major seafood company two weeks after getting out of the hospital. He was grateful and still in disbelief that he was one of the 10% of people who survive a cardiac arrest outside of a hospital.

"The doctors call my recovery a miracle, and in many ways, it was," Tyson said. "But it was a miracle made possible by the quick action of Max, the skill and dedication of the first responders and medical staff, and the unwavering support of my friends and family. Without Max being there in my moment of greatest need, I simply wouldn't be here."

Still, Tyson has faced challenges.

He'd finally gotten things under control until his heart started beating erratically as he swam laps this past July.

He had a cardioversion, a procedure that restores a normal heart rhythm when the heart beats too fast. He's also had an ablation to try to correct his irregular heartbeat. It's a procedure that creates scar tissue in the heart, thus blocking the abnormal rhythm.

At first, Tyson saw his heart issues as a weakness. On further reflection, he realizes they've given him a new life mission: to love, care and serve.

"This mantra guides my actions and decisions, reminding me of the person I want to be and the impact I hope to have on the world," he said. "It's about not taking life for granted."

These days, he feels less stressed, and he doesn't sweat the small things. "My experience wasn't just about cheating death," he said, "but about understanding the precious gift of life and the importance of faith, community and love."

He's also become a strong advocate for CPR training.

When he returned to his office, he worked with company leaders to start CPR training and to get AEDs for all facilities. Almost all of the men at the cabin that weekend have done CPR training now, too.

At the 2023 Boiling Man Cabin Games, Tyson got an engraved axe, bragging rights and a soccer ball signed by the guys, first responders, the life flight crew and members of his hospital care team. "We instantly declared him the winner because he'd gone through the most difficult challenge of all," LeeKwai said. It was Tyson's first win. Then, in the summer of 2024, his team won the competition.

LeeKwai bought his own AED after Tyson's cardiac arrest. He keeps it handy, whether that's at home in Portland or with him when traveling, particularly on a road trip – or at his cabin.

"What happened to Tyson was sudden and it was shocking," LeeKwai said. "I'm so grateful to have had this training."

Stories From the Heart chronicles the inspiring journeys of heart disease and stroke survivors, caregivers and advocates.