April 4, 2025. It was the spring of 1980. My husband Steve and I had only been dating a short while when his brother Jack came for a visit. He’d driven to Spokane from Denver in his beautiful new 280-Z. I was on a bowling team then. The night I met Jack, he and Steve walked into the bowling alley to watch. They were instantly recognizable as brothers. The resemblance was unmistakeable—two peas in a pod. Jack was so easy to be around, I knew we would be pals right away. After bowling, the three of us joked around and played some video games. Then we all squeezed into Jack’s “Z,” and they gave me a ride home where I took their photo. Much later Steve told me that Jack told him, “I was the one.”
We said our final goodbyes to Jack a little over a week ago. He was 78 years old. In life, Jack was a beloved brother, father, grandfather, uncle and friend. He was a successful businessman, an athlete, a photographer and a person who never met a stranger. People were drawn to him like a magnet, and he delighted in this gift. His death was the consequence of his time spent as an Army Medic in Vietnam where he was directly exposed to Agent Orange. His health issues included heart disease, diabetes, Parkinson’s, and worst of all Lewy Body dementia. Ultimately Jack was accepting of his fate and met the end of his life with peace, grace and beauty. He was a wonderful brother-in-law—like a brother from another mother. Rest in peace, my brother. See you on the other side.
The day before Jack passed, was my last in-person appointment with Dr. Rugo. We talked about the CT scans from the week prior and potential treatment options since there has been some growth in a few nodes and nodules. She wanted to do a bit more research before settling on her best recommendation. Whatever that might be, I will likely start in the next two to three weeks. It was then that I asked who she might be referring me to with her departure. We both became quite emotional when I said those words out loud. She said she did have someone in mind, but the ultimate referral would be made by UCSF. I confessed through tears that I/we did not want her to leave. Rugo said she felt good about her decision, but it was hard. Leaving her patients was by far the most difficult part. It was a heartfelt, yet bittersweet moment marking the end of the closest relationship I’ve ever had with a doctor and one I will always be grateful for.
Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” —Dr. Seuss
lana has cancer 