Trae Robinson's heart stopped beating July 29. In his own words, he died.
Less than six months later, Robinson is not only alive and doing well, he's playing basketball again. The Saxony Lutheran senior has put the health scare behind him and is gearing up for his final high-school season.
Robinson had to undergo surgery, have a defibrillator permanently inserted in his chest and go two months with virtually no physical activity to get to this point. It was tough, but he's thankful to be back on the court.
"It's the most amazing thing I could think of," Robinson says. "For me, on July [29], I collapsed and died, and then now, entering practice and about to head into our games for the season, just knowing I get to play with all my brothers on the court -- all of them -- and then just knowing I get to continue what I've always loved to do and couldn't really imagine my life without, it's just something I can't really put into words."
At first, Robinson thought he might never play the sport again. When he woke up in the ambulance on the way to the hospital that fateful July day, he cried. He couldn't believe what had happened. Just minutes earlier, he had been playing basketball. Then, without warning, he collapsed.
Suddenly his basketball future, and his health, were in doubt.
"That was first thing that came to my mind, just the fear of never getting to [play] again," Robinson says. "But, then once I went to the hospital and they were telling me all the time I had to take off and then if I can come back and go through the tests, there'd be a possibility I could [return]."
Robinson was playing in a tournament in Kansas City, Missouri, with his Jackson-based AAU team when he collapsed. While playing defense, he stood straight up, then fell flat on the floor like a tree, according to Saxony Lutheran principal Mark Ruark.
Robinson has since watched video of the incident and can pinpoint the exact moment when his memory stopped, five seconds before the collapse. The next thing he remembers is waking up in the ambulance en route to the hospital.
What happened between likely saved his life. When Robinson didn't respond to CPR, a woman at the game took control of the situation and used an automated external defibrillator at the gym to restart Robinson's heartbeat.
While he was responsive after the AED brought him back to life, Robinson doesn't remember any conversations he had.
He was rushed to Saint Luke's Mid America Heart Institute in Kansas City, where he went under the knife. The doctors believe he has Long QT syndrome -- a rare heart condition that can cause fast, chaotic heartbeats -- but aren't 100 percent sure.
Robinson eventually returned home with a defibrillator inside his chest, but he couldn't do anything for two months. For the outgoing teenager, that inactivity ate at him.
"Everybody was kind of scared for him to do anything," his mother, Christie Crain, says. "He just wanted to be a kid. He just wanted to play basketball. He couldn't live the care-free life he lived for the first 17 years."
Robinson missed the camaraderie of Saxony basketball so much, he'd come to preseason workouts, where he was restricted to standing and watching his teammates run and lift weights. His desire to return to the court was evident.
"It was killing him," Crusaders head coach Kevin Williams says. "He would come to open gym and couldn't do anything. He was always trying to get out there and get back playing before he got cleared by the doctors, and I was dead-set against that.
"I said, 'Hey, man, your life's worth more than a few basketball games. So until they give you the green light, you can't really do anything.' I didn't want to take a chance with him not knowing whether or not he'd be good to go."
Robinson was given the all clear Sept. 28. That day, he drove all the way to Saint Luke's to undergo a stress test. The results would determine his basketball future. On the drive, Robinson began getting jitters similar to what he feels before games.
"I'm thinking to myself, 'You've got to do your best. This could change your future,'" Robinson says. "The ride up there, I was just nervous and then, once I started doing the tests, I felt as the tests went on and on, I felt myself getting back to more of what I used to be."
For the test, the technicians took out Robinson's defibrillator and had him run on a treadmill. The first two minutes were hard, Robinson says, but he soon got back in a rhythm. The speed and incline of the treadmill steadily increased until the technicians stopped him after 12 to 13 minutes. By that point, Robinson was running on the hardest speed and incline combination, and everyone was impressed by the results.
"That's what made me happy and made me more positive whenever I went to talk to my doctor later on in the day," Robinson says.
During that meeting, the cardiologist told Robinson he was cleared to play. But the final decision, the doctor stressed, was up to Robinson. For the senior, it was an easy choice. Seated alongside his father, mother, grandmother and a younger brother, he broke out into a smile.
"When he said that, it was one of the happiest moments I could ever think of," Robinson says. "Just being told I could play the sport I love and be back on the court again."
After two months off, Robinson struggled with conditioning when he returned to the court. Before the injury, he was in the best shape of his life, according to Williams.
Initially, he was frustrated by being out of shape. But he kept working, and Williams says he's beginning to get back to where he was.
"Trae has always looked forward to basketball," Crain says. "For those few months, he didn't know if he would ever be able to play again. Now he has something to look forward to as far as basketball, and I wanted that for him, too.
"You always want to see your child be happy."
Robinson's episode in Kansas City affected not only his family, but the woman who saved his life with the AED. She has kept in contact with Robinson, Crain says, and she and her husband plan to come down from Iowa to watch a Saxony Lutheran game this season.
Hours away from the court on which Robinson collapsed this summer, she likely will see a 6-foot-8 kid step onto the floor with a huge smile across his face.
"This is what I love to do," Robinson says. "I couldn't imagine not being able to do it."
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