Kallum Ryan-Mueller

It was during Dr Liam and Critical Care Paramedic (CCP) Josh’s night shift. They were in the critical care car driving to the scene of the incident just two minutes after being tasked. When they arrived at the scene, the East of England Ambulance Service, Police and Fire service were in attendance. Kallum’s car had swerved off the road and into a tree.

“When we arrived at scene, Kallum was in the back of the land ambulance,” Dr Liam explains. “During our assessment, we quickly identified he had suffered serious head and chest injuries. Due to his head injury, Kallum was in an agitated state, so we gave him a pre-hospital emergency anaesthetic at the roadside to provide neuroprotection and to help his breathing.”

The equipment carried by our helicopters and critical care cars enables enhanced care at the incident scene – when the patient needs it most – such as blood transfusions, advanced pain relief, sedation and anaesthesia, and surgical interventions. Due to Kallum’s life-threatening chest injury, Dr Liam and CCP Josh performed a thoracostomy to release the air that was building in Kallum’s lungs.

The land ambulance team had administered medication to Kallum, but our crew were able to administer an additional dose to align with national guidance for head injuries.

“When given appropriately, this particular medication can be used to treat or prevent excessive bleeding,” CCP Josh explains. “This, combined with the anaesthetic and neuroprotective critical care, really helped to give Kallum a chance. We’re very fortunate that we can deliver this care thanks to the kind donations from the public.”

Inserting an invasive arterial line – a thin catheter into an artery – was also vital so that Dr Liam and CCP Josh could carefully monitor Kallum’s blood pressure, beat by beat, to optimise his care during the journey to hospital.

Kallum’s injuries were so severe that he was classed as ‘Major Trauma Positive’ so the EAAA crew decided that he should be transferred to Addenbrooke’s Hospital, instead of the nearest hospital. As the region’s Major Trauma Centre, this was the most appropriate hospital for Kallum’s ongoing treatment. He was transferred by land ambulance, accompanied by Dr Liam and CCP Josh.

CCP Josh says, “Due to Kallum’s head injury, we weren’t sure what his outcome would be. His condition was life-threatening, or life-changing with potentially long-term implications.”

Dr Liam adds, “Kallum really did have the full package of gold standard care before he even reached hospital. We knew this could make a big impact in terms of his outcome and give him the best possible chance of survival and recovery.”

Kallum’s sister, Sasha

“I had my alarm set for 5:40am on August 13, 2024, and, for some reason, didn’t snooze it like usual. I sat straight up when I saw my phone was lit up. I had a look at it and there was an SOS alert sent from Kallum’s phone at 5:35am, detecting a crash. I presumed he had sent it, so I rang him immediately, but he didn’t answer. I fell into a panic attack, but I thought, “He’ll be helping someone else, that’s why he can’t answer.” I rang my mum, then 999. They confirmed there had been a collision but couldn’t give me any further information due to confidentiality. I then phoned Kallum another 16 times whilst my partner drove me to the location of Kallum provided by the phone alert. We arrived nearby and I saw the police ‘Road Closed’ sign, which made it more real – but that was more than half a mile away from where his phone showed him being. I just wanted to see my brother.

The police called me at around 7am and informed me that Kallum was in a life-threatening condition and was being taken to Addenbrooke’s Hospital. I didn’t know anything else at this point. We drove to the Emergency Department and, on the way there, I was quite literally begging, and praying, for him to hold on.

I arrived at A&E and had to give Kallum’s details as they hadn’t been able to ID him. The lady very kindly told me I’d need to calm down and breathe before going through the door.

My mum and Kallum’s fiancée Heidi arrived and, when I saw them, I just knew I had to emulate Kallum’s usual composure during stressful situations and remain grounded. I can’t explain how it felt to see him. It was relief and terror.

The following weeks and months were heavy to say the least. I searched the internet for the prognoses of his injuries, and was just shattered, but I completely denied that uncertainty to my Mum and Heidi.

The first two weeks on NCCU (Neurosciences Critical Care Unit) were beyond difficult, trying to prepare for the worst. After a couple of weeks, when Kallum came out of a coma and from sedation, he would just open one eye and look around, not saying anything. He was no longer intubated so he looked more like him, but vulnerable and silent. There was fear of not knowing what his outcome would be, whilst simultaneously overjoyed that he was alive, and we would overcome whatever.

During his stay at the hospital and in rehab, Kallum stabilised and began to talk but was bed bound and, if I’m being completely honest, he was talking utter nonsense, textbook PTA (Post Traumatic Amnesia). He was agitated, scared, lost. But there was undeniable hope for him, and us, eventually witnessing Kallum surpass every single expectation and display superhuman resilience, and for that we are so very lucky. Kallum was still Kallum, and he was becoming more himself every single day.

What we weren’t fully aware of during this time is the truly remarkable work and care of East Anglian Air Ambulance’s Dr Liam and CCP Josh at the scene, who made pivotal decisions within seconds, without which I don’t believe we would be in the beyond fortunate situation that we are. The work of these people, and of this charity, is unparalleled. I think without living it, no one could ever comprehend just how vital East Anglian Air Ambulance is. They literally hold lives in their hands and give individuals their best fighting chance. Not to mention Jordan from the charity’s Aftercare team, who organised us meeting the crew. She is a truly kind-hearted person and is so passionate about her work. I’m incapable of expressing just how grateful I am for every single person involved in Kallum’s care. Because of these people, I still have my big brother.

Kallum has been my male role model throughout my life; he is hilarious, serious, kind, he has helped various people throughout his life and despite being a self-proclaimed ‘disliker’ of people, there is nothing he wouldn’t do for his loved ones, and he has genuinely supported so many people who aren’t even close to him. When we were tiny, we were besties, and growing up it was typical brother-sister stuff. But then late teens it just came back to best mates again. I think I could comfortably say that he knows me better than anyone. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. It’s also worth mentioning Kallum and Heidi’s dog, Jett. If it’s possible for dogs to be depressed, I think he was. He missed Kallum so much.

I knew about the charity and knew how valuable their work is but seeing it from this perspective is just totally different. Literally life changing. I think there is a chance he may not have made it without them, but I know for sure he would not be in the same position now without their attendance.

I am now so excited for Kallum and Heidi’s wedding!

Kallum’s Mum, Becky

“I had a call from my daughter Sasha at about 5:30am on 13 August. She had received an emergency alert from Kallum’s phone and called me straight away. I had also received one, but my phone was on silent. I called both his personal and work phones, but there was no answer on either. I put my pillow over my head, wishing I could go back to sleep and wake up again; I knew it was bad because Kallum always answers.

The emergency alert had given the location of the incident so, while Sasha’s partner drove her there, I drove to collect Kallum’s fiancée, Heidi, who had also received the alert. Heidi looked so scared and lost. I knew I had to get us to the hospital.

I can’t remember the journey, but when we arrived, we were taken straight to a family room, which as a former police officer had negative connotations for me, I knew this wasn’t a good place to go. We had no idea at this point whether Kallum was alive, but the receptionist gently said, “He’s still here.”

I just wanted to see him but couldn’t at that point. It was awful, like an out of body experience and like we were just frozen in time. As we held hands, Heidi and I walked to the family room where Sasha and her partner were already waiting. I had one critically ill child nearby and my other looking up at me with simultaneous strength and devastation.

The hospital explained it had been a difficult extraction to get Kallum out of the car. The actions and decisions by the East Anglian Air Ambulance crew, in my opinion, 100% made a lifesaving difference. But he remained critically injured. And while I had my ‘Mum head’ on I knew that Kallum wouldn’t want to be a burden on anyone, and I silently hoped we wouldn’t have to make any difficult decisions about his future.

Kallum was soon transferred to the Neuro Critical Care Unit under the care of Professor David Menon. We were told Kallum was extremely unwell. We were to discover he had multiple physical injuries, a multi focal sub arachnoid haemorrhage and a diffuse axonal injury. He was on full life support, and we would have to, ‘wait and see what happens’ at which point Sasha said, ‘Don’t underestimate my brother’. She could not have been more accurate. It’s almost like Kallum heard Sasha – because he fought and we focused.

Following a couple of attempts by the neurosurgeons, Kallum was finally woken from his coma a couple of weeks later. He had no cognitive capacity, and we prepared for the worst. He endured sympathetic storming and infections but slowly we saw glimmers of Kallum. A watchful eye, an effort to speak, the curl of a smile. We slowly encouraged him to hold things like cups and spoons. Though he remained in post-traumatic amnesia for several weeks, we watched him begin to learn again, just like he did as a child. He has had to learn to breathe again, eat again, recognise, walk and talk again; he was able to say words, but he spoke in jargon. We used sequencing to support him; this encouraged him to imagine and describe things. We saw improvements and milestones every day – and he still had his kindness, even with all he was going through.

Kallum continues his rehabilitation but surprises us with his sheer determination daily.

I am eternally grateful to East Anglian Air Ambulance for all that they have done and continue to do. Their work will forever be in my thoughts.

Jordan, from the charity’s Aftercare team, got in touch with us early on to offer us support. This was so well-placed and timely. She later arranged for us to visit the crew at their Cambridge base.

If the crew from East Anglian Air Ambulance hadn’t arrived to treat Kallum – hand on heart – I don’t think he would be here today. They were brave enough to make all the right decisions, and the impact is huge. They not only gave Heidi and Kallum a chance, but there has been a ripple effect because their decisions have affected so many people. I don’t say it lightly but the crew from East Anglian Air Ambulance really did save Kallum’s life.”

Kallum’s fiancée, Heidi

“Kallum and I had been engaged for three years, and we were halfway through planning our wedding when Kallum had his accident. The night before, we had paid a deposit for a celebrant to conduct our ceremony. On that morning, I was the last awake and saw several texts and missed calls on my phone. I tried calling Kallum, but he didn’t answer. Then Becky arrived at our house having received the same alerts and calls as me and Sasha.

Sasha called from the scene and said that Kallum was being taken to Addenbrooke’s Hospital, so Becky and I went straight there – I can only describe Becky in this moment as superwoman.

I quickly called my Mum and asked her to come over to take care of Jett, our dog. The few hours that I spent waiting in A&E with Becky and Sasha were a blur.

Sasha asked me if I had spoken to Kallum’s childhood best friend, Jeff. I hadn’t, so I immediately rang him, and he left work to set off for Cambridge to join us all.

Kallum was in a coma for about two weeks, and we were told his prognosis wasn’t good and he could be in a vegetative state. The feelings I experienced throughout this time are indescribable, only slightly soothed by our incredible families and the staff on the neuro critical ward.

Kallum’s accident happened five days before my birthday and – unbeknown to me – he had arranged a delivery of flowers before his accident. These arrived while he was in hospital which was so surreal.

When Kallum began to come round from his coma, he touched my engagement ring. Again, another feeling I would never be able to describe. Knowing in this moment he was coming back to us. Despite fearing the worst and feeling like the whole world had stopped, Kallum continued to provide me with hope. Even though he was in a coma he still found a way to show his love for me.

Kallum just kept showing sheer determination and continued to defy all odds throughout his recovery, reaching new milestones most days. We were continuously told to prepare for him to plateau, but we all knew he wouldn’t because we know our Kallum.

He was discharged from hospital on the 8 November 2024 and marked his 28th birthday 12 days later. We celebrated a quiet family Christmas at home the following month.

There have been so many surreal moments throughout this period, but I cannot believe that we are now planning our wedding again; we’re getting married in Wales – where Kallum is from – in May 2026.

The crew from East Anglian Air Ambulance absolutely made all the difference. The decisions they made on the day undoubtedly saved Kallum’s life. The more information we find out, the more I understand just how important every single decision that was made was vital, beginning from the very moment Kallum’s phone contacted emergency services. I will forever admire every single person that played a role in saving my future husband’s life.”

Kallum

On 13 August 2024, although I don’t remember, I do know that I left home in March in Cambridgeshire for work at 4:30am. Working in central London, I usually began my days early so that time wasn’t unusual, but I needed to drive to Bedfordshire to collect my work truck first.

I woke up in hospital weeks later. I recognised that it was a hospital bed, but I didn’t know why I was there or how I had got there. I initially thought it was punishment for something, but my family calmly explained that I had been in a road accident.

I had suffered serious head and chest injuries, broken ribs – with one going through my lung, I had broken my back and damaged my liver. One of the nurses at Addenbrooke’s said “We don’t know how you’re still here’’.

I injured my brain very badly with a Grade 3 Diffuse axonal injury and a Sub-arachnoid haemorrhage.

During neuro rehabilitation, I needed to understand what had happened so the brilliant Family Liaison Officer from Bedfordshire Police kindly explained the findings of the forensic collision investigation.

I had been a short distance from where my work truck was when, for some reason, I had slammed my brakes on and swerved, hitting a tree. There was no prior indication of speeding, I don’t take drugs and rarely drink and no other vehicle was involved. The police confirmed I wasn’t at fault, even providing me with a letter to confirm no offences had been committed. They assumed I had likely swerved to avoid an animal that had run into the road, but we have no way of knowing for sure.

It was an extremely unfortunate accident– but whatever had happened, I needed the help of East Anglian Air Ambulance.

I was eventually woken from my coma on the second attempt but I was unable to walk, talk or even communicate. I initially used a wheelchair and was helped with everyday tasks; I hated it and couldn’t accept it. I was so confused. I was eventually out of the wheelchair and, whist rehabilitation continues, the support from my Mum, Sasha, Heidi and Jeff has been incredible.

I didn’t know who had made the phone call to the emergency services. I later learned that it was me, well – the accident detection on my phone, to be precise. On impact, it had sounded a siren for 30 seconds and, with no response from me, it had automatically alerted the emergency services and sent a text to my emergency contacts; my fiancée, my Mum and my sister, giving my location.

I was told that a crew from East Anglian Air Ambulance helped me, and I met Dr Liam, CCP Josh and the whole team at a visit to the charity’s Cambridge base in February 2025. I needed to know that they really existed and meet the people who had made a lifesaving difference.”