Life gives you very few Micheál Sheridans. From the moment he woke up until when he went to sleep, he was determined that his time would be used to help others.
Whether that was time with his beloved wife Claire, sons Éanna, Rían, Finn, and Caelán; his charity work; or his volunteering through sport, Micheál never stopped giving.
I got to know Micheál professionally through his work with the Mercy Foundation. He showed me designs and plans for a centre to help people deal with the worst time in their lives.
Micheál’s abundant optimism left me in no doubt but that the Mercy Cancer Care Centre would be built, and that it would be best in class. That facility opened in March of this year, at a time when Micheál was facing his own battle against the disease.
Micheál was one to take on challenges that others would have winced at. As CEO of the Irish Community Air Ambulance (ICAA), he undertook a mission to ensure that residents of the south west had access to urgent critical care, albeit at a huge financial cost.
The people who visited the ICAA base near Millstreet would have been instantly struck by how the operation was not one which centred around the multi-million euro helicopter, but a displaced Cavan man who had made Cork and Limerick his homes.
He knew the details of every call-out. He knew every paramedic, every pilot and what they felt was important to them in the delivery of the service. Micheál had built an incredible rapport with the entire team, turning each of them into a friend. On a regular basis, people would turn up at the hangar to personally thank the team who had helped them, and quite regularly, saved their lives.
There was never a rush. There was time for tea. And Micheál’s infectious character turned many of those people into die-hard supporters of the cause, convincing them to fundraise and advocate to ensure the service would continue to operate at a time when costs were a constant threat.
Micheál was even known to get into his own private car, and drive up the country in the darkness to rescue the odd paramedic who had been displaced from Helimed 92 for logistical reasons. He was never paid for this, he just didn’t want one of the team left behind.
The ICAA proved the need for an air ambulance in the south west, and Micheál’s lasting legacy will be having convinced the State to properly fund the service for this and future generations.
Before he returned to the Mercy Hospital, his vision led to the rebrand of ICAA as Critical, to provide equipment and resources to help seriously injured people across Ireland. The charity had always operated a fleet of vehicles, but Micheál believed it could be more.
Critical is now equipping a small army of medics and community first responders across the island. Micheál was a leader who always saw a bigger picture. And who knows how many people’s lives will be saved as the result of that vision.
Last November, Micheál told me he was returning to the Mercy Foundation. There was more he felt he could do. However shortly after he was appointed, he was given the devastating news that he had cancer. In a later interview, he spoke about the irony of spending 13 years raising funds and awareness of bowel cancer, only to find out he had it himself.
Micheál was scanned using a machine that his charity had funded. He even got his chemotherapy in the facility that was supported by the work of the Foundation. He was treated in the professional and caring environment he had championed throughout his time there.
He continued working until the end, just last week playing his part in raising money for the Giving for Living Radiothon. Even if he wasn’t feeling great, he just wouldn’t let people down.
I was looking through my phone at the messages we had exchanged in recent years. By chance one of the last messages I had sent was in March, when my mother had a fall and was in the Mercy.
His message to me was simple and characteristic: “Around the corner, if you fancy grabbing a coffee. When she is settled. No panic if not.”
Micheál Sheridan passed away on Tuesday at the Mercy Hospital in the presence of his loving family. He was just 51 years of age, and had so much more to give. In this corner of the world, we are grateful for the time he gave us.
- Jonathan Healy is a broadcaster and managing partner of Healy Communications.