Prospect's death stirs memories for Fischer

When Jiri Fischer walks in an NHL arena and spots a paramedic, he stops to say hello at the very least. Fischer might see something new, emergency equipment he's unfamiliar with for example, and he'll pose a question. Sometimes he strikes up a conversation just about anything in general.

The former Detroit Red Wings defenseman feels like it's the least he can do considering what they did for him nearly three years ago.

"They saved my life," Fischer said.

On Nov. 21, 2005, Fischer collapsed on the Red Wings' bench during a game, the victim of cardiac arrest. The quick work of attending medical personnel and the proper use of a nearby Automated External Defibrillator saved him.

Twenty-two games into his sixth season, Fischer's hockey career was over. Today, at age 28 and serving as Detroit's director of player development, Fischer cringes over the tragic story of Alexei Cherepanov, the 19-year-old New York Rangers prospect who died after collapsing during a hockey game in Russia.

Cherepanov

"Unfortunately, as a lot of things in life, many, many dramatic things have to happen for a society to learn from it," Fischer said.

There are reports Cherepanov may have had an undetected medical condition, and that the response time to the emergency wasn't what it could be. We may never know the answers.

But Fischer is sure of one thing, when it comes to medical emergencies on the ice, the NHL is prepared.

"Most of the time it's not just about the equipment itself, but the game plan," Fischer said. "It's the same thing as the game plan in hockey. We practice to get good. The medical professionals do the same thing, and they know how to save lives if the opportunity arises."

Ray Tufts is in his 13th season as head athletic trainer for the San Jose Sharks. Tufts says while recent events including Fischer's brush with death and Richard Zednik's serious neck injury were well-handled and highly publicized, his group has been anticipating these types of emergencies for some time.

Every NHL arena is staffed with an EMT crew at ice level, staff that includes an orthopedic specialist coupled with medical personnel familiar with emergencies such as cardiac arrest and clearing air passages. The NHL mandates physicians are present within 50 feet of the bench. An evacuation plan is in place for every building and there's an ambulance always at the ready.

"There's not much more that can be supplied besides having an emergency room right there," Tufts said.

"These are kids' games at an adult level at a professional setting for entertainment value. No one expects life and death situations to arise. An event like that [Cherepanov] really hits home."

Fischer says a day does not go by when he does not think about the events of that early-season game. Exactly one week after his cardiac arrest Fischer experienced ventricular fibrillation (racing heartbeat) while at his home. And exactly a week after that it happened again.

"It was always a Monday – all three times," Fischer recalls with a tension-breaking laugh.

Fischer's heart rate doubled during the incidents at his home, but returned to normal without an arrest. The fact he didn't need to be revived either time didn't detour fears for the worst.

"Emotionally, it was very hard as for many months after a cardiac arrest to think I might die any second," Fischer admitted.

Red Wings team physician Tony Colucci, an emergency room physician, jumped from his third-row seat in the Joe Louis Arena stands that night, and is credited with being key to saving Fischer's life. Detroit trainer Piet Van Zant, orthopedic surgeon Douglas Plagens, assistant trainer Russ Baumann, firefighter Rick Szuber and EMS medic Lynn LeAnnais were also instrumental at the scene.

"The defibrillators themselves can not jump off the wall and save a life. It's the people and professionals who use them and other tools," Fischer said. "It was a combination of unique circumstances. It went perfectly. They saved my life."

Fischer has no illusions of playing professional hockey today even though he would be in the prime years of his career. He realizes now how hard he pushed himself to get into top physical shape necessary to play at the elite level.

"I feel as good now as when I played," he admitted. "We had a mentality that when we get tired that's when we start working. Now when I get tired, I stop."

Fischer has found his way back on to the ice in a recreational manner. His first venture back was several years after the episode when he fulfilled a childhood fantasy of playing pond hockey in suburban Detroit. He's appeared in a charity game in Saginaw, Mich., which he plans to make an annual event. And he even got on the ice to help instruct some of Detroit's prospects over the summer to help as best he could.

Fischer's mother told him after the seriousness of the cardiac arrests subsided that he needed to get busy again, as much for his mental health as for his physical well being. He passes the same advice to everyone he meets who has been through similar situations.

"It left emotional scars that remain today," Fischer said. "At the same time, the dedication and learning from the experience has really been beneficial. I don't have the fear about cardiac arrest."