Photos by Caitlin Cunningham
From the second-floor balcony of his home in Natick, Cameron Howe 鈥�18, DNP 鈥�23 has a clear view of mile 8 of the Boston Marathon route. This year, he and some friends were gathered there, watching the elite women runners race by, when they witnessed something unusual.
鈥淚 saw a woman stumble,鈥� Howe recalled. 鈥淎t this point they鈥檙e still bunched up, so I thought maybe she just tripped on somebody or twisted an ankle.鈥�
But, as Howe and his friends watched, the runner was helped to her feet only to fall again, her body lying face-down on the pavement. This wasn鈥檛 a running injury, Howe realized: something was seriously wrong. He bolted downstairs.聽
In fact, the woman, later identified as 33-year-old Meghan Roth from Minnesota, had suffered cardiac arrest. When Howe and a friend, retired ICU nurse Marie Rogers, reached her, they couldn鈥檛 find a pulse. So, with runners racing around them, the pair began administering CPR, with Howe keeping Roth鈥檚 airway clear while Rogers performed chest compressions.聽
鈥淚 just got in that nursing zone,鈥� Howe recalled. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e almost on autopilot, doing the things you鈥檝e established through training and clinicals. The setting is obviously different, but the way you're caring for a patient feels the same.鈥�
Cameron Howe, a Doctor of Nursing Practice student in the Connell School of Nursing
As the minutes ticked by, Howe worried that road closures and the crowded course would impede ambulance access. He and Rogers received support from another runner who happened to be a paramedic, but they knew Roth needed serious medical care to survive. When an ambulance arrived 15 minutes later, Roth was alive, but unresponsive.
Howe and Rogers spent the next few days scouring the internet for updates. Eventually, they stumbled on a GoFundMe page set up by a friend of Roth鈥檚, where they read the good news: Roth had stabilized and was undergoing surgery to receive an implantable cardioverter defibrillator. Howe felt an overwhelming sense of relief.聽
鈥淔or a few days we were wondering, 鈥榃hat we tried to do, was it enough?鈥欌�� he recalled. 鈥淭here was a lot of reassurance from other people that we did everything we could, but that moment of knowing that somebody made it鈥攊t reassurances you that what you did was right.鈥澛�
Later, Roth聽聽that she felt in the best shape of her life heading into the marathon, which she鈥檇 run before in 2019, qualifying for the U.S. Olympic Trials. Around mile 8 things went fuzzy, she said, and she doesn鈥檛 remember hitting the ground. Since her surgery at Tufts Medical Center, Roth has been reunited with her mother and 10-month-old son and is doing well, she said.聽
鈥淚鈥檓 so lucky they were there,鈥� she said of Howe and Rogers. 鈥淭hey saved my life and I don鈥檛 think I can ever thank them enough.鈥�
Since the incident, Howe and Roth have exchanged emails and are hoping to connect over Zoom sometime soon, in part so Howe can describe the events from his perspective, filling in the gaps in Roth鈥檚 memory.聽
For his part, this year鈥檚 Marathon is one Howe will never forget. The events brought new meaning to what has been a favorite tradition since he was an undergraduate at the Morrissey College of Arts and Sciences, where he majored in theology and minored in biology, and gave him a deeper appreciation for his training as a Doctor of Nursing Practice student in 51茶馆鈥檚 Connell School of Nursing.
鈥淭he nursing program is so focused on the fundamentals to the point that, when something happens, it becomes an instinctual response and you don鈥檛 have to think,鈥� he explained. 鈥淲ithout that training, I don't know that I would have been as helpful or successful in that moment.鈥�
鈥淚t's the epitome of 鈥榊ou're never off shift,鈥欌�� he added. 鈥淛ust because you're not in a hospital doesn't mean you're not still on and you're not still a nurse.鈥�
Alix Hackett | University Communications | October 2021