KV Healthcare

patient

Tony Nelson (COVID-19)

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Reliable friend. Life of the party. Hardworking. People person.

That’s how Anthony Nelson’s friends and family have always described him. With a quick wit, sharp intellect and enviable social skills, Tony, 49, enjoyed a thriving dual career as a mortgage broker and realtor in Upper Kittitas County for the past 17 years. “I was helping people make the biggest purchase of their lives,” he says.

Then COVID struck.

Tony spent several days in a fever and mental fog. Concerned, his girlfriend took him to KVH Urgent Care in Cle Elum for a COVID test. While waiting at home for test results, Tony’s condition worsened. He stopped answering his phone. Tony’s mom sent an urgent text to her best friend, Marta Whalen, a nurse at KVH Hospital.

“She asked me to check in on Tony,” says Marta, who was on a trip to Colorado at the time. “She was worried that he sounded ‘not great’ on the phone.” The next day, Marta got a voicemail: Tony had COVID. Good thing Marta hadn’t been able to visit and be exposed to it.

“I’m thinking just the opposite,” says Marta, as what she jokingly calls her “nursing brain” went into high gear. “Yeah, I do probably want to go there if he has COVID and doesn’t sound good.” She returned to Washington the next day and made a beeline from the airport to Tony’s place.

Marta entered the house in mask and gloves. “I was vaccinated, but I hadn’t come face-to-face yet with a ‘full-blown’ COVID patient,” she admits. It was dark as she sat on the far corner of Tony’s bed and asked if she could turn the lights on. He agreed.

“Every breath in and out was wheezing, with difficulty,” recalls Marta, who knew she had to act quickly. She gave Tony the choice: call 9-1-1 or head to the urgent care clinic.

Tony opted for Urgent Care. It took mere minutes to assess him, and soon Tony was loaded into an ambulance. Before the rig departed, Marta made sure he had his wallet, phone and charger. “I knew Tony wasn’t coming home any time soon.”

Saving a Life

Tony has no memory of the ambulance ride or his time at KVH Hospital. He was shocked months later when scrolling through photos on his cell phone and discovering a video he’d made from his hospital bed. “I really thought I was dead,” he says, “so I made a video message for my family. ‘Mom, Dad, I love you. I wish I could have been a better son,’ – you know, just sad, very sad.”

Tony’s condition quickly deteriorated. He was airlifted to Harborview, where he spent 59 days on a ventilator, got a tracheostomy, was placed in a medically induced coma and then on ECMO (extracorporeal membrane oxygenation – a process that uses a special machine to replace the functions of the heart and lungs by externally processing and circulating a patient’s blood supply).

The gravity of Tony’s condition was clear to everyone. Without hesitation, his parents signed off on experimental treatments for their son, in hopes of saving his life.

Weeks later, Tony emerged from the induced coma. He’d been strapped to his hospital bed. “The first thing I heard was the noise of machines,” he recalls. “I heard the ventilator breathing for me and the ECMO transferring blood to and from my body. I had multiple tubes stuck in my neck and thighs. All I could do was observe. I was too shaky and weak to even write. I had a tracheotomy tube in my throat and couldn’t speak. I was just plain terrified, and couldn’t comprehend where I was or how I got there.”

For the next several weeks, Tony joined his medical team in the battle for his recovery. “We all fought like hell every day to make me live.”

A ‘New Normal’

After two months at Harborview – “Where I believe the very best doctors and nurses in the world work” – Tony was finally released. “It was time for me to see and be with the people I love.” His sister-in-law Janell drove him to his home in Cle Elum, where family was waiting. They helped him out of her car, into a wheelchair, and into his house. “I’ve been here ever since,” laughs Tony, who can count on one hand the number of times he’s been out in the past six months.

“Tony doesn’t go to the grocery store. He doesn’t go out for entertainment, shopping, or visiting friends,” says his primary care provider, Dr. Andrew Thomas. (Doctor visits are also on the list of things Tony’s been unable to do as often as he should.)

When asked to compare Tony to his pre-COVID self, Thomas replies with compassion and great respect for his patient, “Tony is the shell of the man I once knew.”

On rare ventures out, Tony returns to KVH Hospital where he works with Jim Allen, Director of Cardiopulmonary Services, to test his now-damaged lungs. It’s an important part of what Allen calls Tony’s “very long road to recovery.”

“Tony’s situation is a vivid reminder of what COVID can do,” says Allen. “It also reminds me why healthcare providers do what we do.” During a visit in early September, Tony’s lung function measured at half of what it had been in January, pre-COVID.

The Aftermath

“Nobody’s taking COVID seriously until they get it. And then it’s just too late, man.”

Tony has a message for those who have witnessed his epic struggles and yet aren’t concerned about the virus. “First of all, you could die,” he says. “And second of all, if you do happen to make it through, you get to deal with the aftermath.”

For Tony, the aftermath means being unable to work, walk, and even talk for longer periods of time. It means body pains, tremors, headaches. Loss of concentration, memory and balance. It means using aids and adaptive equipment to do the most basic activities – breathing, walking, showering, going to the bathroom. And all while dealing with overburdened government and insurance systems to get basic assistance.

“I cannot operate or function without help from others,” Tony explains. “I now have oxygen machines, in-home physical and occupational therapy. My wonderful family bought equipment for my home. All these things cost money.”

Even so, Tony counts his blessings. He worries about others in similar situations who don’t have the resources and relationships that make all the difference when the bottom falls out of life. When a Facebook page was created to keep family and friends informed, some offered financial help. That was tough for Tony to take. “Everybody’s going through a hard time right now. There are people out there worse off than me.”

Caring about others is also the reason why Tony insists on sharing his story. “If I can help one person by sharing this, it’s worth it,” he says. “People need to know. It’s not just about getting sick, it’s about how sick you get. And then if you do happen to get incredibly sick, knocking on heaven or hell – if you survive, it’s a long deal.”

Final thoughts

A few weeks ago, Tony was able to get the COVID-19 vaccine, a fact he proudly announced during one of our phone conversations. He continues to adapt to his new life of daily struggle in the pursuit of healing and wholeness.

“Getting COVID is one thing,” says Tony. “Getting severe COVID is an entirely different subset of the disease. If people don’t act with common sense and get vaccinated, they can get COVID, severe COVID, and possibly die.” He adds, “None of these things need to happen. Those without a medical history of adverse allergic reactions need to get vaccinated. People need to think not only about themselves but society in general.”

“Tony lost his self-confidence, and for a while he lost his sense of humor,” notes Dr. Thomas. “He is rebuilding his emotional strength, but his physical strength has not yet returned. And at this point, he doesn’t have confidence that it ever will.”

“It must be really, really difficult to realize that you might never have the capacity or potential that you did before,” agrees Marta. Having lost two unvaccinated friends to COVID in the past year, she pleads for others to reconsider their own decisions not to vaccinate. “Please, think of the community, and the families that you live with and love.”

Perhaps because Tony beat the odds when others in his situation didn’t survive, his closest friends and caregivers can’t help but be optimistic. That includes Marta, who Tony will forever credit with saving his life by making him get out of bed and get help.

“Tony’s got a long recovery ahead,” says Marta, a smile coming through in her voice, “but I’m confident that he can get there because he’s so stubborn and strong.”

“This has pushed my mind and body harder than anything I have ever been through,” says Tony. “It’s made the good old days of two-a-day practices when I played college football seem like an ice cream eating contest.”

While each day brings a new set of challenges, Tony’s brush with death has given him a renewed outlook on life.

“I am grateful and happy to be here in the present.”


With all the support he’s received, Tony’s list of people to thank is a mile long. Here are just a few of the people he’s very grateful for:
Tony’s parents, Ronda & Ray Thompson and Mike and Phyllis Nelson
Marta Whalen
Stacy Houle
The team of doctors at KVH Hospital, including Jim Allen
The many teams of doctors & nurses at Harborview Medical Center
Dr. Andrew Thomas
Karlee Rahm
Gina Bjorklund
Drew & Jeanell Nelson
Justine Viviano
All the friends and family members that visited Tony in the hospital and supported him virtually on the group Facebook page
Special call-out to these friends that have gone above and beyond: Chanda and Matt Daly, Tim Stime, Jamie Steele, Justin Trost, Mark Krier, Mario Aguedelo, Rob Zutter & Meke Hansen, Wendy Retacco Hatteberg – owner of Retacco Law Offices – for donating pro bono legal services

Betty Osborne (Neurology)

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“Dr. Gustavson is super nice. His voice is soft and it just makes you feel comfortable. I felt good when I left his office – knowing I was going to be okay.” – Betty Osborne

KVH has welcomed a new Neurologist to our specialty team. His name is Dr. Andrew R. Gustavson. Dr. Gustavson comes to KVH with expert training in both Neurology and Psychiatry. He has worked all over the world, but his desire was to get back to practicing Neurology here in Eastern Washington.

Dr. Gustavson desires to treat patients with compassion and he works with them to build long-lasting relationships. The patient and their family are all participants in assuring the very best care. When someone has a neurologic disease, this may require care over the course of many years. The Doctor, the patient and their family are all essential to providing the best care for an individual. Dr. Gustavson enjoys this part of his practice and loves working with family members of his patients – either remotely or here in Kittitas County.

We received some recent comments from a patient after she came to see Dr. Gustafson for the first time in late 2020:

The patient, Betty, has had Parkinson’s disease for many years. Prior to Dr. Gustavson’s arrival at KVH, Betty had to go to Seattle to be seen by a Neurologist. This would mean her Daughter would need to take an entire day off to drive her to these appointments in Seattle. Betty wasn’t a fan of going to Seattle for her care. When Betty found out a Neurologist was coming to Ellensburg – she was ready to make an appointment right away.

“When I went to see Dr. Gustavson he checked me really good. He watched me walk and had me do some exercises to hold my hands out straight and fall backwards. I didn’t think I could do it, but he reassured me saying “We are here to catch you”. He is very nice. He speaks softly and makes you feel comfortable. He was very thorough and gave me a good checkup. I told him I would be out of medicine in January, so he said – “just come back and see me in three months and I will order and manage your medication for you.
You are doing well on this medicine.”

Dr. Gustavson says that if a patient has Parkinson’s disease we usually manage their care with medications. We can use surgical approaches if the disease gets more severe. I am seeing many Parkinson’s Disease patients since we opened my practice in Ellensburg, up to 50% of my patients on some days. The care of a person with Parkinson’s disease has to be individualized because you need to set up a medication regimen that’s is built specifically to help them with the issues they are having. It’s also a disease that progresses or changes over time – so we need to teach them and their caregivers how to adjust their medications themselves based on their symptoms.

Dr. Gustavson fell in love with Neurology as a college student. He became interested in how the brain works and this remains a great mystery. This means that we rely heavily on the patient history and physical exam to find the answers. It’s a very personal type of medicine. We have to work hard, with the right diagnosis, to tailor treatment to each individual person, according to their needs.

KVH is honored to have Dr. Gustavson on our team and to be able to provide this special care in the local community. Betty and many others are happy to have expert neurology care much closer to home.

View Dr. Gustavson’s provider bio page.

Colton Harlin (Emergency Surgery)

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At the tender age of 10, Colton Harlin was generally used to the bruises and scrapes of pee wee football. And when the goal is a quarterback sack, a little pain for your efforts is to be expected, even during practice.

Colton was knocked down on the play. The quarterback remained unscathed. But Colton?

“My head was ringing,” he recalls. “My stomach was, like, hurting a lot.”

They returned to the sidelines, where Colton confided to his mother, Miranda. “I figured he’d be okay,” she says. “He’d cried ‘wolf’ so many times before; we thought he was just trying to get out of going to school.”

(Sound familiar, fellow parents?)

It wasn’t long before Colton was back on the field. He seemed fine.

“You know, we raised him to be a tough kid,” says his father, TJ. “We’re telling him, ‘You know what, son, you’re going to be all right. Sometimes we pull a small muscle in our tummy during practice. It’s bound to happen.'”

At the Saturday game, Colton was knocked down again. The pain came back like a flood. “I just tried to suck it up,” he recalls. “I didn’t want to cry in front of people.” Colton, telling his coach he was going to be sick, was pulled from play.

Returning home after the game, Colton went straight to bed, and to sleep. “I thought, ‘Maybe he’s just tired and needs rest,” says Miranda. The next morning unfolded like a typical family Sunday. “We’re up later, doing our normal routine, and Colton was watching TV.”

Suddenly, she saw her son bowing over the side of his chair. “I asked him what was wrong. His face was pure white. I said ‘Yeah, we’re going to go to the doctor, right now.’” She asked her daughter, Dakotah, to let TJ know, and with that, Miranda and Colton were out the door.

Colton and his family.

“We’re on our way to the hospital,” says Miranda, “and I’m on the phone with my mom. I said, ‘What if it’s appendicitis or something like that?’ But I didn’t know for sure.”

Still trying to reach TJ, the pair went straight to the ER. Labs were ordered. Miranda knew what was coming next. “Colton had never had his blood drawn with a needle,” she says. “But his nurses were able to calm him and get the needle in, and he was a champ right after that.”

Miranda and TJ finally connected by phone. “She said Colton was going right into surgery, and my heart just dropped,” he says, learning that his son would need an emergency appendectomy. “My world’s flashing before my eyes,” TJ recalls. “I played football for nine years. I’ve been hit in the stomach lots of times. And now this. Then I really started feeling like a bad parent, that he was really hurt.”

Dr. Daniel Smith would be performing the appendectomy. It was Miranda’s first time meeting the provider from KVH General Surgery. “He had the best bedside manner, ever,” she says. “He told Colton that he had a sick appendix, that we really don’t need it and don’t even really know why we have one. He reassured him and helped him understand what was happening.”

TJ and Miranda sat in the waiting room while Colton underwent surgery. “Of course I’m doing all the research I can possibly dig up on this,” says TJ. Less than an hour later, they were told Colton was in recovery, that everything had gone well. They’d been able to remove the appendix before it would have ruptured. Miranda immediately jumped up and ran in to see her boy.

Colton spent the night in the medical/surgical unit. “He got great care. The nurses were on top of anything he needed. They made sure he didn’t have a fever or any reactions to anything.”

When Colton was discharged the next morning, football was on his mind. “His team was going into the playoffs,” says Miranda. And so they carefully, slowly eased him back into practice, and before long, he was back on the field.

TJ has a message for all the ‘football fathers’ out there. “When your child says they’re hurt, really pay attention. It could be something serious. You know, we’re always pushing our sons to be greater than we were. Take into account what’s going on, and don’t shrug anything off. This could have been catastrophic.”

Miranda agrees. “Now, his toe starts aching, or whatever, we’re going to the doctor. We’re never going to not believe him again.”

As for Colton, he’s got his sights set on a career in the NFL. A linebacker for the Kansas City Chiefs, to be exact. And once he’s there? “Make it to the playoffs,” he grins. “And the Superbowl.”

Colton’s family would like to especially thank all of the staff who were involved in his care: Phyllis, Jana, Katie, Hannah, Pat, Luke, Jamie, Abigail, Ken, Kara, Anji, and Dr. Smith.

David Martin (H1N1)

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David Martin (H1N1)

It started with a nagging cough.

David Martin hadn’t felt well for several days. “You don’t go running to the doctor for the first little sniffle,” admits his wife, Jennifer. Still, she suggested he get checked out, just in case.

David went to Reno, instead.

An associate professor in Construction Management at CWU, David was part of a group traveling to Nevada for an annual student competition. The next Monday, David was back in the classroom. He felt run down, and so did several of his colleagues, who had contracted the flu. Unlike his colleagues, David hadn’t gotten a flu shot that year.

“Honestly? I just didn’t get around to it,” he says.

David called in sick on Tuesday. By Wednesday, Jennifer was worried. “He wasn’t pulling out of it quickly enough,” she recalls. After three restless nights, David went to the doctor. “I was just so tired,” he says. “I needed to sleep.”

David was given two flu tests. Both came up negative. He was diagnosed with walking pneumonia and sent home with antibiotics. Saturday, he returned to the clinic, still unwell.

“He was really not looking good,” says Jennifer, “kind of grayish in color.” Dr. Arar measured his oxygen level at 87. “You’re going to the hospital,” she said, and sent him straight to the emergency room.

“But first, we went through the drive through at Taco Bell,” laughs Jennifer. “Neither of us had had anything to eat, and he wanted some sweet tea.”

In the ER, David was put on oxygen. “They couldn’t get his levels to budge.” Jennifer, who works at KVH as a respiratory therapist (RT), called in her boss, Jim Allen, “because you don’t work on your own family.” When David was put on BiPAP, a noninvasive ventilator, Jennifer wasn’t overly concerned. “I thought, okay, he just needs to get some rest.” It had been a long week, and she went home to rest, herself.

Sunday morning, David was in the critical care unit. Jim had spent the night there. Dr. Survana, the hospitalist on duty, told Jennifer David was too sick to stay – he needed to be transferred to Yakima, and Jim would go with him. At Memorial, David was intubated, placed on a vent, and put into a medicated coma.

That night, tied to the phone, Jennifer checked in repeatedly with the RT in Yakima, who assured Jennifer that David was okay. “I went to bed feeling like he’d be on the vent four or five days down there, and we’d be all right.”

Monday was President’s Day. Jennifer was getting ready to head to Yakima, when pulmonary internist Dr. Ramachandran called to tell her David would have to be transferred, again: he needed to be put on extracorporeal membrane oxygenation (ECMO) to give him his best chance to live.

“I was like, ‘What?!'” says Jennifer.

The doctor explained there was an 80% chance that her husband wouldn’t survive if he stayed on a conventional ventilator. He would be transferred to Portland for care.

“I was freaking out,” she recalls. A friend drove Jennifer and her two sons down to Portland. They arrived not long after David, who was taken by fixed wing to Legacy Emmanuel. “I was able to go in and see him,” says Jennifer.

Normally, ECMO is used in open heart cases, bypassing the entire circulatory system. David’s ECMO removed blood from the inferior vena cava (at the thigh), oxygenating it and passing it back through the superior vena cava, which carries blood from the head and upper body, to the lungs. It’s a drastic procedure, but effective. In addition to the ECMO, David was on an oscillating ventilator.

By the time Jennifer arrived, David’s oxygen levels were improved. Doctors then performed additional tests to determine what was going on. If there was a MRSA infection present, things could be dire.

The seriousness of the situation was hitting home with Jennifer. “I was begging God for ten more years, for my kids to grow up with a father.”

Fortunately, David’s tests were negative for MRSA, but positive for influenza. David had swine flu, the H1N1 virus. “The attending physician said one flu shot would have stopped this,” recalls Jennifer. “He might have still gotten sick, but not this badly.”

“They gave him an 85% chance of survival,” she says. David remained on ECMO for nine days. Then, weaned onto a tracheostomy tube, he was put on a regular ventilator.

When David awoke, he was delirious. “I thought it was just the next day,” says David, but he’d been there three weeks. He figured he was in Seattle. He knew he was sick: he’d been having dreams about it. Vivid dreams, largely brought on by the drugs keeping him comatose while his body regained strength.

Jennifer gave it to him straight. “I told him he’d been there a month. I said, ‘You need to know, you almost died.'”

David was moved to ‘track U,’ a step-down unit where, among other things, he was able to use a speaking valve on his tracheostomy tube to finally, clearly communicate. Within days, he seemed well enough to begin inpatient physical therapy. “My legs were like spaghetti,” says David, but his Christian faith gave him encouragement and direction. “God gave me a small role to play: do what the doctors tell you, work hard, get better and get back home as soon as possible.”

Four days later, David insisted he was ready to go home. Jennifer was hesitant. “He’s about 100 pounds heavier than me,” she says. “What if he fell after we got home?”

Martin Family

But David was ready. “I was telling the staff, ‘I couldn’t walk on Monday. It’s Thursday, and I’ve walked around the entire hospital on my own.'” He calls his rapid recovery “miraculous” and “not supposed to happen.”

Back home, family, friends, colleagues, and even strangers were thinking about David and his struggle to live. “While I was in the hospital, I can’t say that I actually knew when somebody was praying for me, but boy, did I ever feel the effects,” he says. “For every day I was there, I experienced about three days’ worth of recovery. I recovered three times faster than anyone said I would.”

Some five weeks after arriving in Portland, it was finally time to head home, where David took it easy – doctor’s orders. After three months of rest, “I was climbing a ladder, painting the house,” he admits, thanks in part to time spent in physical therapy. By fall, he was back in the classroom.

Now that they’re on the other side of David’s health scare, the Martins want to emphasize their gratitude to those who supported their family while David was in the hospital. “People from work, the community, friends, friends of friends, people I didn’t know, people from all walks of life – everyone was reaching out to help us,” says Jennifer. “The outpouring of support was incredible.”

Among their supporters, fellow RT Heather Zech was a standout. “She took it on herself to organize meals for us. With all that was going on, it was such a relief to know there’d be something I could just take from the freezer and put in the oven – and Heather made that happen.”

There’s another message the Martins want to make loud and clear – flu shots can save lives.

“What are you getting from now on?” Jennifer prompts her husband.

He grins, “A flu shot.”

Martin Family photo: David and Jennifer with sons Zach, Wesley, and Josh. Zach was away at college when his father’s illness occurred.

Nigel McNeill (General Surgery)

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Nigel McNeill (General Surgery)

He’s a 38-year-old father of four with an active lifestyle, a passion for volunteerism, and a job he loves as a firefighter/EMT for Grant County Fire District No. 3 in Quincy.

So when a doctor told Quincy’s Nigel McNeill that an on-the-job injury suffered on May 16 would require surgery and a long recovery, McNeill was devastated.

“I was literally in tears,” he says. “This was our busy season, coming up on July and August. I needed be out there with the guys.”

In an occupation where risks are part of the job, the injury caught him by surprise.

“It wasn’t doing anything exciting,” he says. “I wasn’t saving babies or breaking glass. I was just checking the oil on an engine. When I came back out I felt a slow burning sensation in my abdomen.”

McNeill was taken to the emergency room at the hospital in Quincy where Dr. Fernando Dietsch quickly diagnosed a hernia and referred him to a facility he was familiar with in Wenatchee for further care.

The surgeon in that facility told him he needed surgery to repair his hernia but that laparoscopic surgery, which is less invasive than conventional surgery and typically has a much shorter recovery period, wasn’t the right option, McNeill says.

With surgery scheduled for June 12, recovery expected to take six to eight weeks and fire season rapidly approaching, McNeill was desperate to find a way to get back on the job sooner.

Then a friend at Kittitas Valley Healthcare in Ellensburg suggested he get a second opinion and referred him to Dr. Thomas Penoyar of KVH General Surgery.

Penoyar, who is skilled in laparoscopy, saw him immediately.

“He told me it could be done laparoscopically,” McNeill says. “He said it was pretty much a chip shot. He had a great sense of humor but was professional at the same time.”

A week later, on May 31, Penoyar performed the surgery.

At the hospital, “they took me right back. There was great communication,” McNeill says. “The last thing I remember is being wheeled into OR, then I woke up and they were right there with me.”

McNeill went home from the hospital that same day. On June 18 he was released back to full duty.

It isn’t the first time someone in his family has gotten exceptional care at KVH, McNeill says. Nine or ten years ago his mother experienced possible heart attack symptoms while traveling through Ellensburg and ended up in the KVH emergency department.

“They got her right in and treated her. It turned out to be her gallbladder,” he says. “What she told me about her experience sounds a lot like mine. Whatever you’re doing down there, you’re doing it right.”

And that’s a message he’s sharing.

“We don’t have an operating room here in Quincy. Most people, when they need care they have the mindset to go to Wenatchee,” he says. “It’s maybe 40 minutes to Wenatchee, maybe 15 or 20 minutes more to Ellensburg. For me, those extra minutes are worth it.

“I’m telling everybody I know, you probably should check out KVH for your surgical needs before you go to another facility. The word is out. I’m telling everyone.”

Joe Davis (ER)

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Joe Davis (ER)

Meet Joe Davis, EHS Class of 2019. ASB President. Football, basketball, and track. An adventurous spirit, ready and willing to take on life’s challenges with the vigor of a healthy 18 year old.

Until the day in December when he ate his first macaroon.

“I figured I’d try it,” says Joe, who took one bite, not knowing the cookie was loaded with almond flour. It wasn’t long before he felt a reaction. “I thought, ‘Oh, there must be some nuts in that.’ And I went to my next class.”

This wasn’t Joe’s first tangle with nut allergies – a condition he shares with his mother, Janet. “There were times where he would accidentally eat nuts,” she recalls. “He’d have itching around his mouth, and his mouth ‘felt weird’ and swollen. Sometimes he’d tell me and sometimes he wouldn’t, but the symptoms would always resolve with time.

“It’s never been a real issue,” declares Joe. “I wait, drink some water, and it’s gone in 10 minutes.” He’d never had to use an epinephrine (“epi”) pen or mobilize the emergency plan established with his school.

This time was different.

“I went to a class for an hour. I wasn’t feeling better, so I stayed at school for lunch. Then I started getting hot and my body was really irritated, so I laid down on the couch in the ASB office.” At fourth period, Joe was joined by fellow ASB officers, who told him in no uncertain terms that he looked horrible. 

“By then I was having a hard time breathing. My breath was really raspy.” Enter the white knight in Joe’s story: his best friend Connor Timko. Experienced with his own peanut allergy, Connor heard the labored breathing and knew what was happening. He told Joe, “You’re going into anaphylactic shock.”

“Thank God for Connor,” says Janet, who in the midst of a busy afternoon was on her way out the door when Joe called her, his voice barely audible. Once Janet figured out what was wrong, she had Joe put Connor on the phone. Her son’s friend described the symptoms he was seeing, and they agreed he should immediately drive Joe to the ER.

“Connor could get him there faster than I could,” she says. “I dropped everything and sped to the ER and met them there.” Within twenty minutes, she was joined by her husband Bob. By then, emergency staff had dosed Joe with epinephrine, steroids and Benadryl, and were closely monitoring his condition.

As a social worker on staff at KVH, Janet often serves in the emergency department. She considers it familiar territory. Nevertheless, “It’s so different when it’s your own kid. Joe is our youngest,” she says quietly, her voice catching.

The ER team involved in Joe’s care included provider Jocelyn Judd, and nurses Doug Henson and Susan Penick. “I have colleagues that hit the ground running and know exactly what to do,” says Janet. “I never felt like there was a question about the exact treatment. I could just be the mom and rely on them to do what they do best.”

It’s been over six months since that fateful evening, and Joe’s life is back to normal, with one glorious exception: certain nuts are now a regular part of his diet. Shortly after the ER visit, Joe had extensive allergy testing, which narrowed down the list of culprits to three: walnuts, pecans, and the one that sent him to the hospital – almonds.

Freed by this new information, on their way home from the allergist, Joe and his mom went shopping for things he’d always wanted to eat but never dared – pistachio ice cream, Nutella, and pesto sauce. “He loves it all,” laughs Janet.

Later this summer, the Davis family travels to Italy. This fall, Joe heads to Japan for a two-year mission, then to an out-of-state college. As terrible as Joe’s anaphylactic episode was for his entire family, Janet has found a silver lining. “Now, Joe can travel knowing he needs to be very careful and carry an epi pen. And he can enjoy foods that used to be off-limits.

“Things were lined up in the perfect way for Joe to get help and information he could use through the rest of his life,” she says, which according to Joe will include college track, and possibly a career in international business or cardiology.

“Whatever the future holds, it’ll be busy,” Joe grins. “I’m excited.”

Josh Kirk

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Josh Kirk

“I like art. I like science. Dentistry is a perfect blend of the two.”
 
Dr. Josh Kirk’s childhood was cavity-free. “It was always fun. I loved getting my teeth polished. I still do.” But at 16, Kirk was surprised when a dentist started to numb his mouth without telling him why: he had his first cavities. Kirk left abruptly, and returned to his childhood dentist, who performed the procedure. “He did a fantastic job,” says Kirk, who still has those first fillings.

For Kirk, that childhood experience was also a lesson in the importance of provider/patient communication.
 
These days, you’ll find 33-year-old Kirk at his own bustling practice, Mountain View Dental Center, where his wife, Amy, also works as office manager. “I couldn’t do it without her,” admits Kirk, who spends roughly ten hours a day in patient care. 
 
The couple first met in dental school: Kirk was a student, and Amy on staff. “I knew right away I wanted to marry her,” declares Kirk. And so they wed, and soon after moved from Arizona to Texas, where Amy experienced her first snow. “It snowed a lot there, actually,” he recalls. “We got tornadoes, blizzards, extreme flooding. It was incredible! The northwest seems mild by comparison.”
 
The couple moved to Ellensburg in 2017 with their son James, now three years old and big brother to ten-month old Julianna. The move brought Kirk back to his roots. Born in Kennewick, his parents live in the Tri Cities. “But my mom went to college here, and so did I. So did my siblings. We’re all honorary Ellensburgians,” Kirk grins.
 
Last year, the extended family was celebrating Thanksgiving together when Kirk noticed a protrusion in his lower abdomen. “I don’t know how it happened,” he jokes, “but I’m sure that the second helping of turkey didn’t help. It didn’t hurt at first, so it’s hard to say when or how it began.” 
 
Over the next few weeks, the inguinal hernia continued to grow and become painful. After a consult with Dr. Tom Penoyar, Kirk was scheduled for surgery.
 
“He told me it could be done laparoscopically,” recalls Kirk, who was then given written instructions for the days leading up to his surgery. Kirk was grateful for the details. “It’s all good information to know. I’d hate to schedule surgery, take time off work, and then need to cancel because of something I hadn’t done correctly.” As a dentist, Kirk regularly performs in-clinic surgeries. Now in the role of patient, despite his jovial nature, Kirk was serious about preparing for his own procedure.
 
When the day for surgery arrived, Kirk answered routine questions while being prepped for surgery. While he describes the staff as professional, “I could tell everybody was in good spirits. I was happy to be there.” Kirk has nothing but praise for everyone involved – from check-in, to pre-op, to the OR where the nurse anesthetist explained his process to Kirk, and the nurse started an IV.
 
When he woke up after surgery, Kirk felt nauseous, a typical side effect of anesthesia. “They gave me all the time I needed,” says Kirk, “and brought me some gentle foods, including chocolate pudding – my favorite.” A short time later, Kirk was ready to leave. Amy drove him home and got him in the recliner.
 
Dedicated to his patients, Kirk returned to work the following Monday. It might have been a little too soon. “I only missed two days of work, but that first day back was tough,” he says.
 
After a visit with Dr. Penoyar two weeks later, Kirk was officially cleared for all activity. And Kirk is nothing if not active.
 
Already an avid cyclist and runner, Kirk put mountains on his 2019 bucket list. After climbing Mt. St. Helens with his brother-in-law in 2017, this year, the two plan to tackle Adams, Baker, and then Rainier. “That’s the big one,” Kirk says, eyes shining with anticipation.
 
As a life-long learner who embraces new challenges, no one who knows Kirk doubts he’ll scale any obstacles in his way. Now fully back on his feet, he’s eager to let the community know about the quality of “awesome care” he received.
 
“What would that say about me, if I’m asking people to come to me as a local provider and yet I’m not willing to receive local care?” Kirk asks. “You have a choice. You can stay local and support your community, people that live down the road from you. So, why not? Give them a chance. They won’t let you down.”

Carmen Dupuis

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Carmen Dupuis

It began with a small sore on her leg that wouldn’t go away.

Carmen Dupuis didn’t want to go to the doctor. “Like most people,” she grins. After all, her daughter’s wedding was coming up. There was so much to do. She’d wait until after the festivities to take care of her health, and at the top of the list was a hip replacement.

After weeks of trying different home remedies while watching the open wound grow to the size of a quarter, Dupuis knew she needed help. “I didn’t tell anyone – not even my husband. I’d hide it or cover it up. It got really bad, and then another one appeared next to it.”

Despite her health issues, Dupuis continued to work 8-hour days as a checkout clerk. “You just push through it, because everything is more important than your pain.” She made it through the wedding, but only just. “I felt like my body just broke. That was it. I couldn’t walk anymore.”

Dupuis returned to KVH Orthopedics to see Dr. Bos, the surgeon who had previously replaced her knee. X-rays proved what she already suspected: “My hip was bone-on-bone.” She needed surgery.

So Dupuis took a deep breath and shared her secret, right there in the clinic exam room. It was the first time she’d shown her wounds to anyone.

Bos referred her to the new wound care service at KVH. “You’re going to see them, and we’re going to get this taken care of.” Dupuis felt the timing was providential.

Soon, she was being examined by KVH Wound Care provider Mary Nouwens. “She took off the wrap and talked to me. She was comfortable and sweet,” says Dupuis. “I got my first dressing and the team planned out their line of attack to make this wound heal.”

Over the next month, Dupuis returned to Wound Care twice a week for continued treatments. “Every time I’d go in, the wound was smaller. It was so exciting.”

Adding to that excitement was a sense of camaraderie between the care team and their grateful patient. “It felt like I was just going to visit friends each time I went,” says Dupuis. “They made me comfortable, and they’d always tell me what they were doing.”

Concerned for her patient’s probable underlying condition, Nouwens referred Dupuis to a vascular surgeon, who later diagnosed her with bulging veins. During Dupuis’ final wound care visits, Nouwens brought in KVH Occupational Therapist Kat Newton, who fitted her patient with compression hose and wraps – tools Dupuis would need when she returned to work and to long days on her feet.

“I’m 57. I’m not going to change my occupation,” says Dupuis, a dedicated Safeway employee who after 20 years still loves where she works and what she does.

Privately, Dupuis couldn’t help feeling she was to blame for her condition. That somehow she caused this to happen by not taking care of herself. So when she learned the wound care team members also wore compression stockings daily, she felt immense relief. “I realized this wasn’t my fault,” says Dupuis.

These days, Dupuis is back at work and enjoying the camaraderie she has with colleagues and customers. She’s rediscovering the forgotten joys of daily life, like chasing her granddaughter, and caring for the family’s horses. “There I was, feeding them carrots,” she says, “when I suddenly realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d walked the uneven ground out to the pasture. I was so afraid of falling, I’d just watch from my back deck and leave it at that.”

With her husband and two married daughters living in this community she’s grown to love, Dupuis has no plans to leave. And her experiences with local healthcare have validated that decision as she enters 2019 without the debilitating pain she’d known for so long. “It’s like a cloud has been lifted off my head and I can see things, really see things, for the first time in a long time. It’s a new beginning.”

Wendy Hinckle

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Wendy Hinckle

She’s got a spring in her step and a gleam in her eye. While that’s nearly always been true of Wendy Hinckle, there’s now an unmistakable air of gratitude behind her smile.

It’s the kind of expression that tells a story all on its own.

“I feel so lucky,” beams the retired elementary school teacher.

“I’ve had mammograms regularly since I was probably 40.” As the years passed, Hinckle’s friends began their private battles with breast cancer. “Statistically, I became a bit fearful of what the results of my own tests might be.”

Last year, at age 68, she received the news she’d been dreading.

“I got a call from KVH that something was spotted and they needed an ultrasound,” recalls Hinckle. “So I had my ultrasound the day before I went to Arizona for the winter.”

In November 2017, a little over a year after The Foundation at KVH began its focused campaign to bring digital mammography to Kittitas County, KVH Hospital went online with the service.

In January, Hinckle underwent a biopsy in Tucson. On February 6, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. “Grade 1, stage 1, level 1. Thank God.” The cancer had been caught in its early stages.

What she learned next was shocking.

According to the radiation oncologist, “I’d probably had the cancer for 5-8 years,” said Hinckle. What she heard from other Arizona providers supported that claim. “One doctor said it wouldn’t have been picked up on a traditional mammography unit because it was so small,” she remembers. “Another said because of where it was located, it might not have been picked up earlier.”

Two weeks after the diagnosis, Hinckle had a lumpectomy, followed by 20 days of radiation. Upon returning to Ellensburg, her oncology care resumed at Yakima’s North Star Lodge, with checkups every three months, and a mammogram just before the one-year mark.

“I’m not a super dynamo, I don’t have a huge amount of energy. I just have to manage my time,” says Hinckle, who stays active as a rule and even found a way to keep busy during her cancer treatments, focusing on training her shih tzu, Yumi, for novice and intermediate tricks certification. “The day after I was diagnosed, I went to the tricks class and we started training. It was great because it kept my mind off of what I was going through.”

Today, Hinckle stays active in the local SAIL program, and enjoys tai chi. “I also love to play games,” she admits, meeting each week for pinochle with a group that includes other retired teachers. And while she and her husband Kirk flee to warmer climes each winter, Hinckle maintains her deep roots in Kittitas County, where she’s served as a Gallery One board member for nearly two decades. A lifelong lover of the arts, her pride in the gallery’s current direction is evident: “We’re really getting involved with schools now and reaching out to the community.”

That’s the passion of a teacher with plans to give and grow, for many years to come. It’s also why she’s happy to share her cancer story – so that others can learn. “I strongly encourage women to get mammograms,” she says, recalling a friend who recently had her first mammogram after learning of Hinckle’s experience.

“I really want to express my gratitude to KVH – the hospital and the foundation – for raising the money for digital mammography,” says Hinckle. “For seeing that Ellensburg needed to catch up with the technology that’s out there, because it’s possible if I would have had another traditional scan, it would have been missed again.”

Related: Life after 50: the happy years (interview with local SAIL program director Carol Findley)