It was November 19. Andrew London was studying for a test on the third floor of the College’s Addlestone Library when a screaming woman broke his concentration. A fellow student, she said, was having a seizure and had suddenly fallen down the stairs. London rushed over with a student from the Medical University of South Carolina to find 19-year-old Stephen Brown convulsing on a library stairwell. Brown stopped shaking long enough to mumble that it was about to happen all over again. With that warning, Brown seized for another minute before going still. He turned pale, then blue.

For the next five minutes, London and the MUSC student performed CPR on Brown until paramedics came. London then used Brown’s phone to call the Brown household in Atlanta, reaching Brown’s sister, Rachel ’07. London shared the devastating news that Stephen was being rushed to the hospital and things did not look good. He listened to Rachel Brown’s sobs, and eventually said goodbye.

For the next hour, as the library resumed its hushed atmosphere, London tried to study. It was a pointless endeavor, and he soon packed up his things, went home and smoked half a pack of cigarettes before going to sleep. The next day, he did poorly on his test. All he could think of was Brown.

“It was very surreal,” says London. “I thought he was dead, I really did.”

Brown was, in fact, just about as close to death as possible. While walking down the library steps, he had suffered cardiac arrest. When he arrived at MUSC, just blocks from the Addlestone Library, doctors cooled his body to about 90 degrees and induced a coma, aiming to minimize brain and organ damage from oxygen deprivation. They also gave him a shot of adrenaline to get his heart going. It didn’t seem to be working. As the minutes ticked by, the medical staff prepared to call time and concede Brown was dead.

But then, miraculously, some 40 minutes since having a pulse, Brown’s heart started beating again, giving everyone a sliver a hope. The doctors slowly warmed his body over the next day and kept him in an induced coma for a week. Coming out of the coma flashing two thumbs up, Brown slowly began to recover. He had avoided serious brain damage, though the biology major now had to relearn how to walk, talk and even eat. His physical therapy, he recalls, was “almost what 3-year-olds do – pegs matched with colors.”

Incredibly, Brown returned for the spring semester, continuing his pre-med studies. The incident in the library was the latest medical setback for the former three-season high school athlete. During the last semester of his senior year of high school, he suddenly lost consciousness at home one evening and then suffered cardiac arrest days later while being hospitalized. Brown recovered, but doctors diagnosed him with a rare heart condition: long QT syndrome. To shock and restart his heart in case of cardiac arrest, they installed an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator, or ICD, in his chest.

Brown was fine until January 2009, when he had another incident during his freshman year at James Madison University, from which he also recovered. Then, after transferring to the College for the fall 2009 semester, he was volunteering at MUSC and pushing a wheelchair when his heart again went out of whack, prompting the ICD to shock him, knocking him back three feet and onto the ground while repacing his heart. This was two weeks before he collapsed in the library, and is one of the last things he remembers before falling on the steps.

To try and prevent another episode of cardiac arrest, Brown takes supplements of potassium, magnesium and iron, as well as beta-blockers, which push his heart rate down. Perhaps more taxing than his pill regimen are the lifestyle adjustments he’s had to make. Now, the former soccer player has trouble running or climbing stairs without getting winded. He must refrain from playing sports in which an elbow or speeding ball could hit his chest and dislodge his ICD. He can’t drink alcohol or smoke. He spends his holidays and breaks in doctor’s offices instead of with his friends. Thrills like skydiving and roller coasters are now no-nos.

“My parents say it’s another reason to do well in school since I can’t do those things,” says Brown. “But I was pretty upset that I would never have the regular experience of a college student.”

Initially, his health problems and their effects were overwhelming, and he asked, “Why me?” In time, though, he stopped dwelling on what he couldn’t do, and concentrated on what he could. He’s happy to be alive, and grateful to be walking, thinking and breathing. He’s found ways to modify his athletic activities, playing more golf and tennis, and walking around Charleston. He still volunteers at MUSC, and continues to study to become a cardiologist.

He’s also met London again, this time while conscious, when London recognized him at a pool tournament. A week or two after performing CPR, London learned that Brown had survived, but seeing him in the flesh again was a nice surprise, as well as a validation of sorts. London had just returned to the College that fall semester after taking a year off from his studies. His role in saving Brown’s life encouraged him that he had made the right decision to return.

“It’s definitely given me a sense of purpose coming back to school,” he says.