Karen Yee is the kind of person you want around in an emergency. A long-time Scoutmaster who has been certified as a Wilderness First Responder (WFR) since the mid-2000s, she is no stranger to keeping a cool head. Over the years, she’s used her training to handle everything from wilderness scenarios with her scout troop, helping soccer and basketball athletes, to treating victims of urban motorcycle accidents right in her neighborhood.
Usually, those skills are deployed to help someone else. But not too long ago, Karen found herself facing an unexpected patient: herself.
Not Your Hollywood Heart Attack
When we think of a heart attack, we picture the dramatic, movie-style chest clutching and sudden collapse. Karen’s experience was entirely different.
It was a Wednesday. Karen had just finished a short shift at her job at REI—one that didn’t include a scheduled lunch break. Afterward, she braved the aisles of Costco to grab a few things before heading home. Afterward, she braved the aisles of Costco to grab a few things before heading home.By the time she pulled into her driveway, she was feeling lazy and asked her husband to unload the car. Karen went inside and sat in her recliner to rest.
Even after resting for a while, something felt slightly off. She felt an “awareness” in her chest—not a sharp pain, not a dramatic shortness of breath, but a strange sensation that wouldn’t dissipate. Trusting her instincts, she checked her vital signs. Using her Apple Watch, she noted her resting heart rate was hovering between 76 and 80. For Karen, whose normal resting heart rate is around 55 to 65, this was a red flag.
The First Symptom is Denial
Even with 20 years of medical training, the human brain’s first instinct is often to rationalize.
“I felt this awareness in my chest… and I’m in the back of my mind thinking, ‘Oh, maybe this is just a low sugar issue.’ It’s not unusual for me to feel lightheaded or not great when I’m low sugar.”
Just to be safe, she asked her husband to take her to the ER, grabbing a mini-Kit Kat on her way out the door to test her low-blood-sugar theory. Halfway to the hospital, the feeling started to subside. Feeling a bit better, they turned the car around.
But once she was back home in her recliner, the chest awareness returned. The Kit Kat hadn’t fixed it. It was time to make the call: they were going back to the hospital, and this time, they were going inside.
Speaking the Language of Triage
One of the greatest advantages of WFR training is learning how to confidently assess a patient and communicate with higher-level medical professionals. When Karen walked into the emergency room, she didn’t just say her chest felt weird. She advocated for herself using precise, urgent terminology.
“I walked in and said, ‘I think I might be having a cardiac event. How fast can you get me on a 12-lead EKG?'”
Her clear, specific description of her symptoms prompted immediate evaluation. The tests confirmed her suspicions. Troponin—a protein released when heart muscle is damaged—is normally present in only trace amounts in the blood. Karen’s level was 200 and quickly climbed to 2,000.
Doctors discovered that one of the arteries supplying blood to her heart had become blocked, requiring a stent.
Until that point, Karen had remained remarkably calm. Hearing the official diagnosis made the situation suddenly feel very real. Still, through it all, her composed demeanor persisted, even as doctors assessed the damage.
“I’m talking to the doctor and I said, ‘Well, how high can this thing go?’ And he goes, ‘Oh, I’ve seen it go up to 20,000. You weren’t gonna die from this.'”
WFR Skills Are a Family Affair
Karen’s experience also reinforced another lesson she’d learned through years of WFR training: trust your assessment, even when the first medical opinion doesn’t match what you’re seeing.
When her husband took a hard fall and injured his arm earlier this year, they made a trip to the ER. The initial assessment was brief: no broken bones, go home and rest. But Karen’s WFR instincts told her something wasn’t right. The swelling in his arm wasn’t just persisting; it was slowly worsening.
Trusting her assessment over the initial discharge, she insisted they return to the ER the very next day. She was right. He had developed compartment syndrome—a severe and potentially limb-threatening condition caused by internal bleeding and pressure. Because Karen knew how to properly assess a worsening wound and refused to ignore the signs, he was treated before the damage became catastrophic.
Key Takeaways from a Veteran “Woofer”
Here is what Karen wants everyone to take away from her experiences:
- Denial is a symptom: Rationalizing a medical issue is a normal human response, but don’t let it stop you from getting checked out.
- Know your baselines: Because Karen knew her normal resting heart rate, she recognized when a high reading was a sign of distress.
- Trust your assessment: Whether it’s your own elevated heart rate or a partner’s worsening swelling, if your gut and your training tell you something is wrong, listen.
- Advocate for yourself and your loved ones: Don’t be afraid to push for tests, ask for an EKG, and communicate your symptoms clearly and assertively.
Karen’s experience is a reminder that emergencies don’t always happen miles from civilization. Sometimes they begin in your own living room. The ability to recognize subtle changes, stay calm under pressure, and advocate for yourself can matter just as much at home as it does in the wilderness. Giving people the tools and confidence to step up in those critical moments is exactly what Wilderness First Responder courses are designed to do.
Looking back, Karen has a simple message:
“In our country, we pay a small fortune for health care. Go use it. Just go use it… You have to be an advocate for yourself.”