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Mike

I don’t think I’ve ever shared this with anyone, i may have told Burgandy in private.

I had the privilege of getting to know “Iron Mike” when I was a young paramedic working in the Moon Township area. Back then, it was nothing to run into him and have a conversation at one of the local 7-Eleven stores—either the one on what was then Beers School Road near the old airport, or the one on Neville Island.


It’s been more than 25 years, and I’ve been out of emergency services for over a decade, so I feel comfortable sharing this story now.


I was part of the crew that transported Mike on the day he passed away.


We picked him up from the CCU at Sewickley Valley Hospital and transported him to the cardiac cath lab on the fifth floor at Allegheny General Hospital. It was a difficult transport. He was on an intra-aortic balloon pump, still had the cath sheath in his groin, and we had to keep his leg completely straight. On top of that, a nurse had to ride with us.


The back of an ambulance was tight enough to begin with.


And Mike wasn’t exactly a small man.


He filled up that old Ferno 93 Squadmate, with his feet hanging over the end.


When we finally got him into the cath lab at AGH, Mike wanted to help us move him. We had to explain that he couldn’t—we needed to keep that leg straight and stable.


As we got ready to move him, I looked at him and said, “Mike, the snap count is on me. Just pretend I’m Bradshaw.”


He laughed.


Then he shook my hand.


Mike passed away about two hours after we got him there.


Of all the calls and transports I had during my years in EMS, that is one I’ve never forgotten. I’m grateful that one of my last memories of Iron Mike is hearing him laugh—and having the privilege of shaking his hand.
 
Shane Falco said:
I don’t think I’ve ever shared this with anyone, i may have told Burgandy in private.

I had the privilege of getting to know “Iron Mike” when I was a young paramedic working in the Moon Township area. Back then, it was nothing to run into him and have a conversation at one of the local 7-Eleven stores—either the one on what was then Beers School Road near the old airport, or the one on Neville Island.


It’s been more than 25 years, and I’ve been out of emergency services for over a decade, so I feel comfortable sharing this story now.


I was part of the crew that transported Mike on the day he passed away.


We picked him up from the CCU at Sewickley Valley Hospital and transported him to the cardiac cath lab on the fifth floor at Allegheny General Hospital. It was a difficult transport. He was on an intra-aortic balloon pump, still had the cath sheath in his groin, and we had to keep his leg completely straight. On top of that, a nurse had to ride with us.


The back of an ambulance was tight enough to begin with.


And Mike wasn’t exactly a small man.


He filled up that old Ferno 93 Squadmate, with his feet hanging over the end.


When we finally got him into the cath lab at AGH, Mike wanted to help us move him. We had to explain that he couldn’t—we needed to keep that leg straight and stable.


As we got ready to move him, I looked at him and said, “Mike, the snap count is on me. Just pretend I’m Bradshaw.”


He laughed.


Then he shook my hand.


Mike passed away about two hours after we got him there.


Of all the calls and transports I had during my years in EMS, that is one I’ve never forgotten. I’m grateful that one of my last memories of Iron Mike is hearing him laugh—and having the privilege of shaking his hand.
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wow. have nothing to say. amazing story
 
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