When a hockey coach and teacher in Minnesota experienced a cardiac event, a multidisciplinary team at Mayo Clinic helped him get back in the game through teamwork and quality care

On a winter Sunday in Owatonna, Minnesota, Ryan Harrison, a hockey coach and teacher, was wrapping up a youth game with his son, Justin. As the family loaded gear into the car and prepared to head home, Ryan pressed the start button and immediately slumped forward, unresponsive.

In an instant, everything changed. Chris, his wife, tried to wake him, pulling on him and calling his name, while their teenage son dialed 911. Justin ran outside the car to flag down help and, in a remarkable stroke of timing, came across a supervising nurse from Owatonna Hospital who had just left the arena. 

The nurse began CPR immediately. Her intervention became the first link in a series of lifesaving events that would involve two hospitals, dozens of specialists and some of the most advanced emergency cardiac techniques available. 

"Somebody was watching over him," Chris says. "The right people were in the right place at exactly the right time."

Paramedics transported Ryan to Owatonna Hospital, where he coded again. Dense fog ruled out airlifting Ryan, and he was rushed to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, by ground ambulance.

Emergency intervention at Mayo Clinic

The cardiac catheterization laboratory at Mayo was waiting for Ryan when he arrived in critical condition. Specialists quickly uncovered a completely blocked coronary artery and restored blood flow within minutes. But despite their swift action, his heart was still failing. 

The team placed an Impella device — a tiny pump that steps in for the heart when it cannot pump enough blood — in Ryan. When his oxygen levels continued to decline despite the device being in place, the extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO) team was called in to provide the highest level of life support. 

"This is precisely why our teams prepare the way we do," says Dr. Gurpreet Sandhu, a Mayo Clinic cardiologist. "When a patient like Ryan arrives, every link in the chain activates instantly. People from multiple specialties converge without hesitation. That kind of teamwork is what changes outcomes."

Even with the blockage cleared and mechanical support in place, Ryan remained in a fragile state as he was transferred to the intensive care unit (ICU). Early neurological tests offered a quiet but meaningful hope — he could move his fingers and toes.

"That tiny movement meant everything," Chris says. "It told us Ryan was still in there fighting."

A dangerous turn

Two days later, a CT scan revealed a concerning blood clot. The scan also showed that Ryan was born with an unusual arterial configuration: a single shared artery supplying blood to his stomach, liver and bowels. Because of this rare anatomy, the clot created a complete blockage, leaving no alternate pathway for blood flow. 

Ryan still needed the Impella for circulatory support, but it was also putting pressure on the artery. Taking the device out could inadvertently move the clot into the aorta, creating the possibility that it might reach his brain or heart.

"His anatomy and the clot location created a perfect storm," says Dr. Jill Colglazier, a Mayo Clinic vascular surgeon. "We couldn't move forward without the entire care team planning every step together."

A multispecialty group of cardiologists, vascular surgeons, anesthesiologists, intensivists and ECMO specialists devised a creative plan in which the cardiac catheterization team would establish an alternative circulatory pathway by placing a device in Ryan's upper chest. Following this, the Impella would be removed, allowing vascular surgery to safely restore abdominal blood flow.

"What made this possible was not one specialty, but five or six working simultaneously," Dr. Colglazier says. "Everyone brought their expertise, and everyone trusted one another completely."

The surgery lasted nearly six hours and required careful timing, real-time communication and absolute precision. When it was complete, blood flow had been successfully restored.

Turning the corner in the ICU

The next morning, Ryan woke up alert and responsive. It was a pivotal moment for both his family and the medical team.

Now the focus shifted to determining whether his heart could function without the use of ECMO. The assessment required a multidisciplinary team at the bedside, including cardiologists, cardiac surgeons, ICU physicians, heart failure specialists, anesthesiologists and echocardiography experts.

Dr. Philip Spencer, a Mayo Clinic cardiovascular surgeon who leads the ECMO and Mechanical Circulatory Support programs, recalls the moment they tested Ryan's heart function. 

"When we slowly reduce ECMO flow, we're essentially asking the heart, ‘Can you take over now?'" Dr. Spencer says. "It is a powerful moment when you see it respond. There's a sense of collective relief because every team has been working toward that one goal."

Dr. Spencer credits the seamless teamwork for Ryan's recovery. 

"It's not a handoff from one specialty to the next," Dr. Spencer says. "It's multiple teams taking care of the same patient at the same time, each doing what they do best."

Ryan's heart held steady. The ECMO was removed, and for the first time since his collapse, he was breathing, beating and healing completely on his own.

Rebuilding strength and confidence

With the immediate danger behind him, Ryan began rehabilitation. He tackled small but meaningful steps: sitting up, walking short distances, lifting light weights and completing cognitive exercises. The ICU nurses and therapists encouraged him through each milestone.

One of the things Ryan remembers most was how often staff returned to check on him — even when they were not assigned to his care that day.

"They didn't just keep me alive," Ryan says. "They lifted me up. I felt like I was everyone's patient, not just one person's. Their teamwork made me feel like I wasn't doing this alone."

Chris felt that support too, 

"They cared about Ryan as a person," Chris says. "They cared about us as a family. That kind of compassion can't be taught."

Ryan completed cardiac rehabilitation, regained his stamina and later received an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator as a long-term safety measure. Slowly, life returned to the rhythm he recognized.

Life renewed

Today, Ryan walks several miles a day, has returned to golfing and is coaching hockey again. Everyday moments, such as watching Justin skate, visiting his daughter at college and waking up next to Chris, have taken on deeper meaning. He understands just how close he came to losing them.

When he reflects on his survival, he thinks about the coordinated efforts of people who may never meet one another but were nonetheless part of the same chain: the nurse in the parking lot, first responders, Owatonna clinicians, Mayo's interventional cardiology team, ECMO specialists, vascular and cardiac surgeons, anesthesiologists, ICU nurses, rehabilitation therapists, and many others.

When Ryan tells his players, "We, not me," he now understands the phrase in a way only someone who has relied on an entire community of caregivers can truly understand.

"They gave me my husband back," Chris says. "I will never forget that."

And Ryan, back in the game he loves, simply says, "Every day is a gift."

Watch a video of Ryan Harrison's story

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