The Good Samaritan needed help himself, Cork's Dinnie Kiely on importance of CPR

“The last thing I remember is I got out of the water, and I was talking to a man who was walking his dog, I was rubbing the dog, and there’s nothing after that.” 

Dinnie Kiely has been a volunteer with Cork Missing Persons Search and Recovery (CMPSAR) since its inception 25 years ago, and in that time he has helped bring peace to hundreds of families grieving missing persons.

On Tuesday, August 19, he was out with his fellow volunteers, searching the banks of the Lee at the request of the gardaí, looking for the telephone of a missing person who had been found deceased.

“We eventually found the phone, and I got out of the water, and rubbing the dog is the last thing I remember,” he says, talking to The Echo in his home in The Glen.

“I was after having a heart attack there at the back of the jeep and I collapsed into the ditch. The lads saw me collapsing and they came straight over to me and performed CPR [cardio-pulmonary resuscitation] on me.

“They called an ambulance as well, and the first responders arrived before the ambulance, they were from West Cork, they were brilliant.” 

Mr Kiely collapsed, having suffered a sudden cardiac arrest and an aneurysm, which left him clinically dead for around four minutes. He doesn’t remember, but the ambulance crew had to apply a defibrillator to him as they rushed him to Cork University Hospital (CUH), where he would remain in a coma for three weeks.

“They brought me out of the coma then because they couldn’t address the aneurysm because of the heart attack. They were going back and forth, and they tried one medication and I went downhill straight away.

“Every time they’d do one thing, it would affect the brain aneurysm, and they couldn’t give me blood thinners because of the bleed, and I ended up with a load of blood clots in my lungs then. I got pneumonia then.

“They called the priest to anoint me, and they called the family over twice because they thought I only had a couple of hours.

“Eventually then they stopped giving me something, and then, suddenly, bang, I was up then, and they were able to do the operation then on my brain. That was about seven hours.” 

He remembers experiencing “horrific” nightmares during the coma.

“I could see myself on the stretcher, there was these two nurses trying to save me and there was all these people trying to take my life, trying to kill me.

“I was putting them down to the Grim Reaper, and I was saying you’re not getting me. The doctor said to my family one day that I was fierce agitated, that I was pointing invisible guns at people.

“It was the worst experience ever, and the longest experience too. It was horrible.” 

His first real waking memory is after that operation, he says.

“I remember waking up and the family was there, all around me, and I started crying.” 

Recovery

The Baker’s Rd native remained in hospital until the end of September, missing out on his 60th birthday, before he could return to his home in The Glen, and his two children and his partner Teresa.

Almost four months on from that day by the river, he is facing a long road to full recovery, taking walks around The Glen that once would not have cost him a thought but now leave him exhausted.

As well as spending three weeks in a coma, he also lost two weeks' worth of memory as a result of the accident.

"I lost a load of my memory. I can't remember two weeks before what happened me.

"I can't remember a thing for two weeks. I can remember the dog, isn't that weird? That man called up to see me, the man with the dog. Wasn't that nice of him?"

He says he will always be grateful to everyone who saved his life.

"I have to thank the lads, of course, and the first responders and the ambulance crew.

"I have to say a special thanks to everyone in the Regional [CUH] intensive care unit, they were outstanding.

"I remember nights when I was burning up and they were all around me, sponging me down, I had the ice blanket on me and I couldn't hack the heat at all.

"A lot of them were student nurses from India and I'm telling ya, they were absolutely brilliant, they were outstanding, I couldn't praise them enough.

"I can't get it out of my head what they done for me."

He says he can’t wait to get back to volunteering with CMPSAR. 

“The boredom is f**king killing me. It’s really getting to me,” he says with a guffaw.

Looking back at the day he collapsed, he thinks about his friends performing CPR on him by the riverside till help arrived.

“That was the best day’s work we ever did, learning CPR, we’re training every single Wednesday night as first responders, working on different scenarios, and with all that training it was the boys who kept me alive.” 

In a quarter of a century of volunteering, he has helped to bring peace to many grieving families.

“I like that, knowing that you helped give people a bit of peace. I don’t like saying ‘closure’, I don’t like that word. There’s no closure when you lose someone. You never get over that. You wouldn’t want to. But I like the idea that you might get a small bit of peace.” 

Fundraising

This Saturday, December 6, The Harp Bar in Ballyphehane will host a waxathon, in which five brave locals will undergo a waxing by local beautician Laura Ahern from Salon 221, to raise funds to help Mr Kiely in his recovery.

He reacts to that with characteristic shyness and succinctness.

“I’m f**king mortified,” he says, laughing again.

Áine McLaughlin, owner of The Harp Bar, has organised many fundraisers for CCMPSAR, having lost her brother in 2007, and this year alone she has raised €5,000 for the charity.

She told The Echo she was hoping to raise “at least €1,000” to help Mr Kiely on his long road.

Mr Kiely’s friend Chris O’Donovan, who is CCMPSAR search co-ordinator, said Mr Kiely was a decent and compassionate man who had given 25 years as a volunteer with the charity.

“All his life, Dinnie has always put other people first, he’s never asked for anything, so we’re asking for him, we’re asking people to give a few bob to help him,” he said.