The mother’s voice is calm, but trembles slightly in response: “Not that I can tell.”<\/p>\n

48 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“Can you get her on the floor for me?” Bell asks.<\/p>\n

“Come on sweetie,” she says, gently calling her daughter’s name.<\/p>\n

1 minute, 4 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

Bell says to his colleagues in fire and medic dispatch: “Incoming, unconscious not breathing.”<\/p>\n

1 minute, 14 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“I have her on the floor,” the mother says.<\/p>\n

“Can you tell if she’s breathing?” Bell asks.<\/p>\n

The mother pauses for 10 seconds. She says it looks like there is a slight respiration.<\/p>\n

Bell identifies this as ineffectual breathing. The girl’s heart isn’t pumping fast enough to distribute oxygen throughout her body. She is dying.<\/p>\n

1 minute, 32 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

Bell asks if the mother has an automatic external defibrillator<\/a>, or AED, a device used to send an electric shock to jolt the heart back into function.<\/p>\n

With an AED, chances of surviving a heart attack or other cardiac event grow to about 31%, according to a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention study from 2010.<\/p>\n

Using solely cardiopulmonary resuscitation, or CPR<\/a>, drops the survival rates. Those odds are about one in 10.<\/p>\n

Medics dispatched from Altoona, Iowa, are about nine minutes away. CPR is all the mother, daughter and Bell have until they get there.<\/p>\n

1 minute, 50 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

Bell tells her to tilt her daughter’s neck to open the airway.<\/p>\n

He then asks the mother to monitor her daughter’s breaths. They are too far apart. He begins to teach her how to do CPR.<\/p>\n

2 minutes, 58 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“Place the heel of your hand on the breast bone right between the nipples,” Bell says. “Put the other hand on top of that. Pump the chest hard and fast \u2014 at least twice per second \u2014 about 2 inches deep. Let the chest come all the way up between pumps. We’re going to do this 600 times until we can get help there to take over.”<\/p>\n

3 minutes, 26 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“Count out loud, so I can count with you, OK?” Bell instructs.<\/p>\n

“One, two, three, four …” the mother says as she presses into her daughter’s chest, pushing blood through the heart and out toward the brain and extremities.<\/p>\n

3 minutes, 42 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“I need you to go a little bit faster than that,” Bell prods.<\/p>\n

“OK,” the mom says, “17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22 …”<\/p>\n

^{\u201c<\/sup>I know that you probably consider that you were just ‘doing your job,’ but to us you were the anchor that held us steady in the process of saving our daughter’s life.^{\u201d<\/sup><\/p>\n}}

<\/div>\n

Mother, in letter to Travis Bell<\/span><\/p>\n<\/aside>\n<\/div>\n

3 minutes, 59 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

The mom says, “She’s starting to come to!”<\/p>\n

“You’re doing good,” Bell says. “Just keep going, OK?”<\/p>\n

4 minutes, 27 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

The mother’s counting starts to become labored, her voice breathier.<\/p>\n

“88, 89, 90, 91, 92 …”<\/p>\n

5 minutes, 5 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“You said this is a house, right?” Bell asks, as the fire dispatcher guides medics to the home.<\/p>\n

“Yes,” the mother replies. “151, 152, 153, 155 … and the door’s open … 175, 176, 177 …”<\/p>\n

5 minutes, 33 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

Fatigue is clearly setting in, but the mother keeps pressing. She is breathing hard. She skips counts, but she keeps at it.<\/p>\n

“Doing good,” Bell says. “Just keep at it, all right?”<\/p>\n

Minutes pass, and all that can be heard is a mother’s voice counting as she presses her hands into her daughter’s chest.<\/p>\n

The mother gasps as she keeps pressing.<\/p>\n

6 minutes, 29 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“Is there anybody else there with you?” Bell asks, perhaps sensing the fatigue.<\/p>\n

“No, it’s just us,” the mother responds. And keeps on with the count.<\/p>\n

7 minutes, 27 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“400, 1, 2, 3, 4 …”<\/p>\n

8 minutes, 27 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“96, 97, 98, 99 … 400 …”<\/p>\n

She’s got the count wrong. The mother is getting really tired. Bell just encourages her. “Keep going, OK? We’re getting closer.”<\/p>\n

9 minutes, 39 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

The mother finishes another 100 pumps.<\/p>\n

$\"\"$ <\/div>\n

USA TODAY<\/p>\n

911 operator saves dad’s life first day on job<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

“That’s actually 600, OK?” Bell says.<\/p>\n

“OK, sorry,” the mother says. “Do you want me to completely stop, then?”<\/p>\n

“No, just keep going, all right?” Bell says.<\/p>\n

“Do I still count?” she asks.<\/p>\n

“Yep, keep counting,” Bell responds.<\/p>\n

10 minutes, 41 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

The mother passes 700 compressions.<\/p>\n

11 minutes, 15 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

Sirens wail in the background. Help is close.<\/p>\n

“They’re starting to come,” Bell says. “I want you to keep going until they’re in the room, though, all right?”<\/p>\n

11 minutes 36 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

The mother passes 800 compressions.<\/p>\n

12 minutes.<\/i><\/p>\n

There’s clattering inside the house.<\/p>\n

“Hang on, honey,” the mother says to her daughter. She leaves to guide the medics into the room.<\/p>\n

12 minutes, 8 seconds.<\/i><\/p>\n

“Are they in there? Hello?” Bell asks.<\/p>\n