It was about 1 p.m. Saturday, April 18, and I was working with my 2-year-old registered Black Angus bull, “Prime & Tender,” in the barn of my property located on Lakeview Road, Alanson, when my neighbor, Tim Rostar, who owns a home-based auto repair shop nearby, stopped in to say “Hello.”

Little did either of us know that within five minutes, I would be lying on the ground near death under an 1,800-pound bull and Tim would be doing everything he could do to save my life.

‘He was crushing my chest with his head’

Prime & Tender is normally a good bull, but on this day things would be different. Using maneuvers that I had used many, many times, I was moving him and his pasture-mate through an internal 10-foot wide passageway of the barn.

The gate that usually swings easily to help move the animals along rattled and then jammed. No doubt about it, this was a “rookie mistake” — I should have known better. A good herdsmen always has his gates and doors in the proper position before he begins.

The bull stopped following the normal obedient path — he turned and saw that he could go back and challenge me rather than to move forward through the gate system. I only had to step back about 2 feet and open the sliding door and I would be safe — the bull was about 12 feet away. He had never attacked me before, and so I thought I could get out of the barn with no problem.

I was wrong.

In a blink of an eye I was on the ground yelling loudly for Tim, who was about 30 feet away. The bull had me pinned on the ground against the frame of a closed, 8-foot-wide sliding barn door. I had managed to get the barn door open only about 3 inches before the bull took me down.

Tim arrived quickly and opened the barn door, only to find himself face-to-face with an angry bull that seemed very intent on crushing my chest with his head. Tim bravely stepped forward and grabbed the bull by its ears, trying to pull him off of me. The bull looked up briefly, but again started to use his head as a battering ram on my chest.

Tim looked around and saw a garden spade within arm’s reach. He used the spade-shovel on the bull’s head and for a brief second I felt a release from the battering.

But it seemed as if Tim’s actions only made the bull more intent on crushing me.

Fighting to breathe

Tim could see that my death was imminent.

He turned the shovel in such a way that the sharp angle of the upper blade could be used as a pointed weapon. Tim is a big man — about 6 foot, 1 inch tall and weighing about 190 pounds. With all his might, at close range and using the shovel like a sledgehammer, Tim came down upon the bull’s head with the pointed edge crashing into the bull’s skull.

That got the bull’s attention. He lifted his head, looked at his options and decided to jump over me and go through the open door; he bypassed Tim, who was still holding the shovel, and ran out.

Tim had saved my life.

I was in a heap on the floor, mumbling. Tim secured the doors of the barn so the bull could not come back in. He could not readily find my cell phone, so he ran to his house a half-mile away to call 9-1-1. Fortunately, crews responded quickly. And when you’re gasping and fighting for every breath and struggling to stay conscious, there is no better sound in the world than to hear sirens approaching.

The 9-1-1 team, out of Alanson and Harbor Springs, was ready. While I was still on the cement barn floor, they started the first IV and administered much-needed oxygen. On the way to Northern Michigan Regional Hospital, the 9-1-1 team could not have been more supportive. They knew that I needed fluid replacement as I had lost a lot of blood and started a second IV. They also knew that I was in pain and would warn me in advance of upcoming bumps or rough road conditions.

‘I’m a lucky man’

At the hospital, emergency room physician Dr. William Karl Gretzinger found that I had a collapsed lung on the right side. During a CT scan, doctors confirmed multiple rib fractures on the left (two) and right side (five). There was also a pneumothorax (collapsed lung) on the right.

Quickly and efficiently, I was thoroughly evaluated by the neurosurgery department and cleared of any emergency problems (no sign of internal brain hemorrhage or life-threatening neck or back fractures).

Dr. Jeff Beaudoin and his assistant, Marcella Koss, PA-C, inserted a chest tube to re-expand my right lung. Prior to the insertion, I had to gasp for each breath, but afterward breathing came much easier.

From the ER I went to ICU. Like in the ER, the ICU care was professional, efficient and lifesaving. Fortunately, I responded well to the treatments and I was transferred to the surgical unit floor on Sunday.

My pain was less and my breathing improved every day. My wife, Donna, son, Bill, and daughter, Sara, our grandson, Jake, as well as many friends, kept me in conversation through my stay.

On Wednesday, April 22, I was discharged from the hospital. I knew that I had been cared for by a first-class friend and neighbor, a first-class professional 9-1-1 team, very professional ER and ICU teams, as well as a very caring and professional hospital team. I’m a lucky man.

How he's doing today

In a phone interview earlier this month from out of the area where he's doing opthamology consulting, the retired opthamologist said he's feeling better and still counting his blessings.

"There are still certain positions when I lay in bed that are uncomfortable, but other than that I'm back to at least 90 percent," Wiley said.

During the brief attack, he said he felt intense pain and fear that the bull was intent on killing him, as is the animal's instinct.

"It was excruciatingly painful, like a ton of bricks coming down," Wiley said. "Their instinct is to crush the chest of an animal. They bury their head and crush the chest. I didn't know all of that before this happened."

As for the fate of Prime & Tender, he's moved to a new state: Montana. Wiley was one-third owner of the bull and he sold his share to his partners (who were aware of the attack). Wiley continues to maintain a herd of about 50 cattle at he and his wife Donna's property on Crooked Lake.

"It ended well, but certainly it was a scary few days," Wiley added.

A dangerous profession

Attacks by bulls are dangerous and cause severe injuries and deaths in the U.S. every year. It is estimated about 100 people are severely injured or killed by bulls a year. It is not uncommon for previously well-behaved bulls to suddenly flip into an aggressive behavior.

In 2007, 715 deaths and 80,000 disabling injuries were attributed to agriculture professions. The 2006 death rate for farmers and farm employees was 28 in 100,000, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (most recent years available).

Also, 60 percent of farm injuries occur when someone is working with large, unpredictable livestock. Most other injuries happen with machinery during crop production. The overwhelming majority of injuries occur among workers aged 45 and older.

Agriculture’s death rate places the industry first among all occupations, followed by mining second and construction third.

Source: National Institute for Farm Safety

To the rescue, giving thanks

Wiley noted the efforts of the medical team that helped him during that April incident, including:

At Northern Michigan Regional Hospital …
Dr. Jeffrey B. Beaudoin
Marcella Koss, PA-C
Jeff Baird, PA-C
Dr. William Karl Gretzinger, ER physician

Staff on 2-North in the surgical unit …
Meghan Klave
Heidi Wade
Meghan Vandernaald
Chris Nance
Allison Wallin
Shawna Wessels
Laura Laughbaum
Shaunee McKenney
Chris Chaney
Mary Fisher  
Liz Horrom, RN, MSA, clinical nurse manager

Paramedics with Allied EMS …
Tom Frascone, EMT-Paramedic
Michelle Hitner, EMT-Specialist
Jason Losey EMT-Basic. Losey is a member of both Allied EMS and Alanson First Responders.