'When I was being trained in first aid, it never crossed my mind I’d be doing it for my own child'

Cork father-of-five Tim Kelleher could never have guessed that his volunteer training with the Irish Red Cross would one day save his own son’s life. He talks to Helen O’Callaghan about the day his one-year-old choked, about doing CPR on him, and the subsequent impact of that momentous 24 hours on his life and his volunteering.

Tim Kelleher and his son Patrick. Picture: Noel Sweeney

I was on an outside farm loading sheep to bring them home for lambing. Annmarie and I were newlyweds at the time. We’d married on December 30, 2016; this was January 4, 2017.

My late friend, Chris, home from London for the wedding, was in my house minding his kids and mine. Annmarie and I had three at the time, aged 10, three, and 15 months.

Chris rang to say Patrick, the youngest, was sick. “How long will ye be?” he asked. I didn’t take much notice. The week before some of the kids had been sick with the vomiting bug. I thought it was that.

We loaded up the sheep… when I drove in the yard at home, everyone was out to meet us… and when I saw Patrick, he was blue in the face. I knew: Cyanosis, lack of oxygen. I grabbed him, screeched at Annmarie to get back in the car. We left home like a bat out of hell to go to CUH.

In the back seat — Annmarie holding him — Patrick was limp, quiet, grey with blue lips. The next thing, she started shrieking that he was gone and started shaking him. I pulled into the side of the road – we were four miles from home — grabbed him, pulled him out of the car, opened the boot to lay him down to do CPR. I’ve the training to do it, I’ve been a volunteer with the Red Cross since 2007.

All I knew was that he needed CPR intervention. And the urgency of it, the immediate necessity.

Patrick Kelleher was saved by his father, Tim, who applied CPR that he learnt through the Red Cross. Picture: Noel Sweeney

I was about halfway through the first round of compressions when he opened his eyes. He gave a cough, a gasp — huge relief, but we still didn’t know what was going on.

A couple of miles on, he went again. I stopped nearly in the middle of the road, did it all again. He took a bit longer the second time to come around. I don’t know how I kept going.

The ambulance met us at Bandon Road roundabout. I took Patrick from Annmarie. He was alert, looking at us. I thought he looked a lot better. Annmarie went with him in the ambulance and I followed. He was checked in at CUH; they did X-rays, and they couldn’t see anything. No one knew what was wrong.

And then he passed out again in the X-ray department and had to be given CPR.

Chris rang then to say one of the kids had said Patrick was after eating play dough. They got play dough for Christmas and they were making ‘pizza’, and of course Patrick ate his pizza. The doctors looked at the X-rays again. They could barely see the play dough in his throat. It’s a soft material, so it wasn’t showing up well. Because they knew it was there, they could see it.

Tim Kelleher: 'When I was being trained in first aid, it never crossed my mind I’d be doing it one day for one of my own. When the whole thing was over, I was relieved and glad, and I thanked the Red Cross who’d trained me because only for them my son wouldn’t be here now.' Picture: Noel Sweeney

If it was something hard, they could remove it in Cork, but a soft material had to be done in Crumlin. So they were preparing to transfer him to Dublin. A paediatrician from the South Infirmary was there when Patrick threw up this green stomach bile. I got excited. I asked: “Is his throat clear?” The doctor said to give him a couple of sucks of water from his bottle. Patrick swallowed it, which was a great sign. So we did that at intervals and he was able to take his bottle and swallow and he was looking well. They did another X-ray — the mass had moved from his throat into his stomach. They put off the transfer to see how he’d get on overnight. The doctor was afraid he’d get sick and throw it back up.

Next morning he drank half his bottle and ate some soft cereal and the doctor said bring him away home. He wouldn’t throw up at this stage… Patrick walked in the door that day after CUH as if nothing had happened. Annmarie and I were hanging, poor Chris picked him up and started crying but Patrick was off playing!

From then on, we banned play dough. We had two more children after. When I was being trained in first aid, it never crossed my mind I’d be doing it one day for one of my own. When the whole thing was over, I was relieved and glad, and I thanked the Red Cross who’d trained me because only for them my son wouldn’t be here now.

Everyone takes life for granted. This really opened my eyes to the fact that things can change in a millisecond. I’m not glad it happened, but it changed my outlook on life, my whole work ethic with the Red Cross. It opened my eyes to the fact that people need training.

And you can need it at any time. I was working with sheep, and the lads were at home — little did we think I’d be giving CPR to my son an hour later.

• Awarded Volunteer of the Year at last year’s Irish Red Cross National Services Awards, Tim Kelleher leads the youth group of the Clonakilty branch. All seven members of his family are involved with Red Cross, including Patrick, now 11.
• The Irish Red Cross ‘A Million Minutes’ campaign invites us all to turn the extra hour gained when clocks go back into vital support for Irish Red Cross volunteers and communities nationwide. On October 25, give your hour back by taking a one-hour challenge: walk, run, hike, cycle, dance, play and help raise €1m for volunteer training, equipment and resources. Visit www.amillionminutes.com.