Wichita State coach Paul Mills reveals he suffered a near-fatal cardiac event
The meaning of Wichita State’s 88-57 win over Eastern Kentucky on Sunday will fade quickly. The meaning of what followed inside Koch Arena will not.
After the game, Paul Mills stepped to the podium and spoke uninterrupted for 10 minutes. No questions. No basketball breakdowns. Instead, the WSU head coach shared a story about how close he came to not being there at all.
Mills, 53, revealed he suffered a cardiac event two weeks earlier and nearly died following emergency heart surgery.
“By the grace of God, there were a series of events,” Mills said. “If there is a 30-minute detour or something else happening, this is a solemn Christmas for our family.”
The first warning signs appeared in the immediate aftermath of WSU’s road game at Northern Iowa on Saturday, Dec. 6. Mills said he began feeling something wasn’t right following the Shockers’ dramatic 74-69 overtime win, when chest discomfort hit as he celebrated with his players.
“After the game, I realized something is not right,” Mills said. “There is something physically wrong. I was high-fiving the guys as they’re coming in and it feels like my chest has got a skeletal fracture and it’s really, really hard to breathe.”
Physically, Mills said, he was exhausted just walking back onto the court for his postgame radio interview. When he returned to the locker room, he slumped into a chair, struggling to catch his breath.
He credited his chief of staff, Ryan Hillard, for handling logistics as Mills struggled. By the time the team boarded the bus, Mills could barely walk. He tried to convince himself it wasn’t as serious as it seemed.
Complicating matters was a winter storm in Cedar Falls that night. There was uncertainty over whether WSU would even be able to fly home. Eventually, the team’s small charter plane departed Waterloo around 11:30 p.m. and landed in Wichita shortly after 1 a.m.
As soon as they landed, Mills called his wife and told her he needed to go the hospital. He initially planned to go somewhere closer to their home, but she insisted he go straight to Wesley Medical Center. Mills arrived around 2 a.m. and was rushed back for testing.
An EKG showed abnormalities. When doctors told him he was being admitted and the cardiac team was being called, Mills fainted not long after.
“That was the last thing I remember,” Mills said. “Next thing I remember was waking up in a room having cardiac surgery.”
Doctors later told Mills his right coronary artery was 100% blocked and had received no blood flow for six hours. Two stents were placed to restore circulation. The situation became so dire that doctors spoke to his wife about uncertainty surrounding his quality of life and even called in a chaplain after the surgery.
“You can imagine what (my wife) was thinking when she saw the chaplain,” Mills said.
The stakes were made even clearer by what doctors told him afterward.
“I was talking to my cardiologist earlier this week,” Mills said, “and he says whenever you have an event like (mine) and you need an emergency procedure, the mortality rate is 50% if you do not get treated within the first hour.”
Mills spent time reflecting on how easily the outcome could have changed. WSU originally planned to bus to Cedar Falls. Had that happened, Mills believes he would have died on the ride home. He considered staying overnight in Iowa, a decision that could have left him alone in a hotel room.
He recalled discussing with athletic director Kevin Saal whether the game should start earlier because of the storm. If it had, Mills likely would have gone to sleep alone in a guest bedroom at home.
Even the flight back to Wichita hinged on chance. WSU’s plane was cleared to take off only because a delayed Chicago flight had already forced the runway to be cleared.
The experience has reshaped how Mills views the season now unfolding around him. With Christmas approaching, he said the timing has only deepened his sense of gratitude and perspective.
“Christmas is a wonderful occasion,” Mills said. “It’s a celebration of new life. And that’s what I feel like I have. Not in a spiritual sense. I’m 100% content and at peace where I’m at spiritually, but physically feel like I have new life.”
Just three days after being discharged, Mills returned to the bench for the game against DePaul — under strict medical supervision. A team of cardiologists accompanied him. He sat on a stool at times during the game instead of standing and wore a different pullover from the rest of his coaching staff because he was covered in monitors tracking his heart rate.
“When you go 13 of 28 from the free throw, they started to pull me out,” Mills said with a smile. “They said your heart rate is getting too high on an account of all these missed free throws, so they came over and nudged me. I wouldn’t advise doing that if you get out of ICU on Wednesday, coaching on Saturday. But I was going to show up for these players.”
Mills said the ordeal has reshaped how he views his own health — and the way he wants others to think about theirs.
“I work, work, work, work,” Mills said. “I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I run 12 miles every Saturday, two miles walk, four miles run, then come back the other six. I don’t take medication.
“I would ignore these physicals and I almost ignored all this pain that was happening in my chest. By the grace of God, I didn’t ignore it and addressed it. I would tell you all you young (people), don’t skip (physicals). When those things come up, I just really, really encourage you to do this.”
Now, he says, he feels better than he has in years.
“It’s as if you have a shower with very little water pressure,” Mills said. “And then all of a sudden, somebody comes in and remodels and they put in three extra shower heads in and they turn up the shower. I feel as good as I’ve ever felt.”
Mills even joked that when WSU wins a championship, he will include a photo of his right coronary artery in the memory book.
But his central message Sunday wasn’t about basketball or even recovery. It was about perspective — and urgency.
Mills didn’t know the medical term for what happened to him — “I can’t pronounce it,” he joked — but he understands it in simpler terms. When players ask him what position they play, Mills always gives the same answer: there are only two: on the court or on the bench.
“This is what I think of about my condition,” Mills said, eyes sparkling. “There’s two conditions: There’s death and there’s life. I have life and I'm grateful for.”
As he shared his story, Mills said he hopes others take something from it — especially during the holidays.
“We get so busy with our lives that we get the tendency to ignore the people that we have responsibilities to,” Mills said. “I would tell you to pursue life, man, and to do it with force.”
This story was originally published December 21, 2025 at 7:51 PM.
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