As stroke unfolded, decisive action averted tragedy

One night in October 2024, while laying out her work outfit for the next morning, Whitney Sheffield bent over to pick up a pair of jeans. The dizziness hit hard — far worse than the woozy feeling she sometimes got when she stood up quickly.

Assuming she was probably just dehydrated from a long day, Whitney figured a quick shower and drink of water would do the trick.

After all, she was 24, healthy and fit. She was even training for a half-marathon. Other than a recent string of 10-hour workdays to finish a major project, life felt normal. On that Thursday evening, she had picked up a Tex-Mex salad bowl for dinner and then relaxed in front of the TV with her husband, Tim Dawson.

But the dizziness only grew worse in the shower. While lying down in bed after getting out of the shower, Whitney suddenly started “laugh-crying.” As they settled into bed, Tim noticed her talking “a little goofy,” almost as if she were slightly disoriented. Figuring she was joking around, he let it go.

But as his wife continued to make odd sounds, Tim looked directly into her eyes and asked, “Are you OK?”

Whitney moaned.

“Something is seriously wrong,” Tim thought and carried her to the car.

Just before midnight, they pulled up to HCA Healthcare’s Brigham City Community Hospital in a rural area of Utah, about 55 miles outside Salt Lake City. Tim grabbed a wheelchair near the entrance and wheeled Whitney toward the emergency room. She could no longer move her left leg or arm. She also couldn’t stop twitching.

Whitney was still chalking up her symptoms to dehydration, thinking, “Just get me an IV and I’m good to go.” Tim hoped she might be having a weird reaction to a recent tattoo. But in the ER her score on a diagnostic test that quickly assesses speech and motor function signaled she was probably suffering the effects of a serious stroke.

A CTA scan showed a 100% blockage in the basilar artery, a major vessel carrying blood to the brain. Without blood flow being restored quickly, Whitney was at risk of permanent brain damage and potentially fatal consequences.

Whitney tried asking the doctors and nurses, “Are you sure?”

But her words came out as a moan.

About 20 minutes after the CTA scan, a neurologist whom the emergency physician consulted via telehealth confirmed that Whitney should start on a clot-busting drug.

With an IV in and no time to waste, she was loaded onto a medical helicopter for a 26-mile flight to HCA Healthcare’s Ogden Regional Medical Center, which is a certified Primary Plus Stroke Center that offers endovascular thrombectomy treatment for stroke patients. She arrived at 1:27 a.m., records show, to a team of stroke experts standing by.

By the time Tim reached the Ogden, Utah, hospital by car a half-hour later, Dr. Shane Weber, an interventional radiologist at Ogden Regional Medical Center, was already performing a thrombectomy. He inserted a small, flexible tube called a catheter into Whitney’s basilar artery via her groin to break up and remove the clot.

Whitney, who was awake during the procedure, felt scared but told herself, “I’m going to trust that [Dr. Weber] knows what he’s doing, and I’m going to be OK.”

Suddenly, she felt movement in her neck and then a quick rush of blood to her head.

“Wow, that was crazy!” she exclaimed, as clearly as she normally spoke.

The stroke symptoms had vanished. Not only was the garbled groan gone. She could also move her left arm and leg.

“It was like I hadn’t even had a stroke,” she said.

Further testing in the hospital revealed an underlying problem: a patent foramen ovale (PFO). It occurs when a small opening between the heart’s two upper chambers — something that’s normal in newborns — doesn’t close during infancy. A PFO can contribute to a stroke when it allows a blood clot to pass through the opening and get pumped out to the brain, where it blocks blood flow.

Two months after her stroke, Whitney had outpatient surgery at HCA Healthcare’s St. Mark’s Hospital in Salt Lake City to close the PFO.

Almost a year later, she continues taking blood thinner medication and occasionally gets migraines. She also has stopped taking hormonal birth control pills to reduce her risk of getting another clot.

Tim said he still feels traumatized when he thinks of the night his wife had a stroke. But he and Whitney can’t help but to also think about everything that went right: Whitney’s symptoms appeared before they both fell asleep. Tim paid attention to her unusual behavior and quickly got her to the hospital. Because of the fast-moving nurses and doctors coordinating care between two hospitals, she got a brain scan, clot-busting medication, helicopter transport and a thrombectomy in quick order.

Today, Whitney is back to running. In September 2025, she completed a half-marathon.

“Obviously, I thought about it a little bit while I was running,” Whitney said of her stroke. “I was just really thankful and grateful that I can still run. I can still have this normal life.”