Ken's Obituary

Hi everyone, Sorry this is late. I should have put this up earlier today. We have been very busy with plans. Below is the picture of Ken that we used and the obituary information. It will be in the Coloradoan paper tomorrow. You can add memorial messages here or at http:/www.BohlenderfuneralChapel.com.
Here is the Obituary.

Kenneth Andrew DeVault, 53, died January 25, 2010 of complications from non-Hodgkins lymphoma against which he fought valiantly.

Ken was born on October 24th, 1956 in Dallas, Texas. He lived in Colorado most of his adult life where he married his wife, Beverly on May 5, 1989. Ken was a restaurateur who led several food services to success and profit. Most recently Ken was Retail Operations Manager of the Lory Student Center Food Court at Colorado State University where he loved working among the vibrant college crowd.

Ken was a loving husband and father who found great joy in spending time with his family. He also enjoyed traveling, eating out and drinking an ice cold can of classic Coca-Cola.

He is survived by his devoted wife, Beverly of Fort Collins; his loving children; daughters, Katy DeVault Kaufman (husband, Mark) of Chicago Illinois, Anna DeVault of Astoria, New York, and Tessa DeVault of Steamboat Springs Colorado; step-daughter, Stephanie Eberl of Windsor Colorado and step-son, Jeff Eberl (wife Sara) of Golden Colorado; and his adorable granddaughter, Norah Kaufman. He is also survived by his mother (Muzz), Elaine DeVault and siblings, Cathey Donaldson, Rickey DeVault and Lisa DeVault.

He is preceded in death by his father, Herschel DeVault.

Memorial services will be held Thursday, January 28, 1:00 p.m. at First United Methodist Church of Fort Collins followed by a celebration of Ken's life at the CSU Lory Student Center, North Ballroom at 3:00 p.m. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions can be made in Ken's name to: Bohlender Funeral Chapel, 121 West Olive St, Fort Collins, CO 80524.

Ken's final day

Tues, Day +1: It is quiet in the house this morning. All our children are here except Stephanie. She isn't far away and will be here soon. I can't remember the last time they were all in the house for an overnight. they will be here all week. Ken would have loved to hear them tell stories and laugh together. It is a comfort to me.
Let me talk about yesterday, Day 0.
It started quiet as I woke up on the air mattress in Ken's room. I had packed up the stuff in Ken's closet the night before, my clothes, Ken's coat and robe, his Christmas presents, the books and puzzles that were keeping me company. The nurse brought me a cart and I loaded it up. Jeff and Sara took it to my car when they arrived a few hours later. Then I pulled my chair up next to Ken and opened the bible to read. I couldn't see the words through my tears, so I just laid Ken's hand on the bible and sat and talked to him for a couple of hours. Ken's brother Rick arrived at 7:30. We talked for a few minutes and then I left to fun over to the cancer center across the street. I wanted to see Dr. Matous one more time. I wanted to catch him early, before his patients started coming. But he wasn't there, so I came right back. I was only gone 15 minutes. Rick and I talked for a few more minutes and the kids started to arrive. Jeff and Sara were first, then Stephanie, Anna and Tessa, then Katy and Mark. Rick left around 9 and we all sat in Ken's room and talked to him. We took turns reading from the bible. We found a classical web site to play better music for Ken than the hospital station we had been listening to. At 10:00, Dr. Kobitary came in to talk to us. He explained more about Ken's ARDS disease. We asked questions about how they know for sure. He explained the choices we had to let Ken go or the keep him on a respirator, but that he wouldn't ever be able to breathe without it. We asked about the procedure so we were prepared for what would happen. He said they would continue with all the things they were still doing to keep Ken sedated. They would add morphine injections to keep Ken comfortable and not feel the stress of not being able to breathe. He said it could take anywhere from a few minutes to a couple of days, but in Ken, they didn't think it would take very long.
We also asked about an autopsy. Ken had wanted to be an organ donor. He cannot be now since he had cancer. But the kids and I all agreed that if something could be learned about what happened to Ken by looking in his lungs, Ken would have wanted that. He was always proud that he got to work in the university and help his students learn about running a business. Now we hope he can help the doctors with something that will help other doctors help patients. We agreed to have the autopsy of his lungs.
After the doctors left, they told us we could take as much time as we need, no time line for them. We decided to rotate through the room and each have our own time alone with Ken. Ken's wish was that he not be alone at this time, so we made sure someone was with him every minute. We also thought we had better get something to eat, so the kids trickled down to the lunch room and Steph brought me back a small sandwich. I can't believe I ate it, but my stomach had been feeling queasy and it helped.
Once we had all eaten and had our time alone with Ken, we asked my Uncle Stan to come in. Stan read some bible passages to all of us and said a prayer for Ken. Then it was time to let the nurses in. The nurse gave Ken his first shot of morphine and the respiratory people came in and removed the respirator. The process had begun. We all sat around Ken, quietly at first, watching him breathe. Then we decided to tell stories and share memories. All the while we touched Ken, told him we loved him and watched him breathe slower and slower. He stayed with us for an hour and 20 minutes. The time flew by. Seemed like it was taking forever since we didn't want him to suffer. But it seemed like it was over in a flash since we didn't want him to leave us. My uncle instilled in us that we weren't letting him go, we were turning him over to God. I kept telling that to Ken as his breathing slowed and his color changed. Ken was then with God. Ken went very peacefully, no grasping for breath, no pain in his eyes. He did open them a little for a while and it seemed that he was watching me as we talked. I know he was hearing us. I hope he wasn't to scared, though he did have a few tears.
Through all of this, we were supported in the lobby by my parents, Toby, Stan and Leah, and Mark's mom, Linda who was watching little Norah. We were also supported by all of you. You can't even imagine how comforting it is to read what you are writing and to know that you are a part of our story. Thank you for that.
The day ended with all of us at home. We made spaghetti, Ken's favorite. We looked at pictures and talked till I dropped at 10:30. I was exhausted. I thought it would be hard to sleep, but it wasn't. I dreamed of Ken and he is with me. He will always be with me.

Ken's with God

Ken went with God at 2:45 today. We miss him already. God Bless You. Bev

Strength

Lord, Please give me strength to get through this day and please welcome Ken with open arms as you bring him home, for I know you love him more than his family and friends here in this life. Amen

ARDS, new medical term.

Thank you to everyone that has been writing messages and calling me. Your support is overwhelming and appreciated. Bless you all for being so loving. Please remember to sign your posts. Sometimes I can't tell who is writing. I don't know who sent the poem yesterday, but thank you.

I keep learning new medical terms. Yesterday I spent some time talking to Dr. Kobitary, another pulmonologist. He said Ken has ARDS, acute respiratory distress syndrome, caused by bone marrow transplant BMT chemo drugs and the swine flu. He did a good job of explain Ken's lung scaring and rigidity. I asked him my daughter Tessa's question. Are you 100% sure he won't get better. He said that he is only 90% sure Ken won't get better, but 100% sure Ken won't get off the respirator. He said there is a small chance that we may be able to get him well enough to come home on the respirator. But people on the respirator only live for 6-12 months. He would pass when his heart gave out or his liver with all the drugs that we would have to be giving him. I am so thankful that Ken filled out the 5 wishes so that I know he doesn't want to be kept on machines once there is no hope of recovery. It somehow makes it easier, not really, but maybe. How's that for good English? Ken is the eloquent writer. Wish he could write us one last story to sum up how this is going from his point of view. I know he would be overwhelmed with emotion thanking everyone.

I spent the night at the hospital last night, sleeping on my air mattress in Ken's room. It was a quiet night. His nurse didn't wake me till after 5 this morning. But Ken is giving us a little excitement now. His pressures in his lungs keep going up. Actually, we think he is taking an extra breath now and then. It makes his respirator alarm go off. The alarm sounds like an old fashioned bicycle horn. Beep/beep. The nurses think Ken is again used to his sedation med levels, so they turned up his propovol. I haven't heard him honk in 10 min, so maybe that will help. They are trying to keep him comfortable at this stage. Yesterday, Dr. Kobitary adjusted Ken's respirator for a couple minutes to only breath 10 times per minute instead of the 30 times per minute that it is set on now. He wanted to see if Ken would try to breathe on his own. He didn't. Not one try. Of course, he is sedated, but the doc said he should have noticed the difference and taken a breath as a reflex. Kind of like how he bites down when the nurses try to clean his mouth.

I just sit here and look at him. His hair is started to grow back, especially on his face. I have shaved him a couple of times and will probably have to do it again today before the kids come. His beard is growing in very dark.

Yesterday was a busy day. I didn't cry as much as the day before. Course, that isn't saying much since I cried every minute the day before. I started the day with my dad coming to visit me. We had a couple of hours together before the rest of the family started to arrive. (Ken was just honking again; wish they would try the breathing thing again. I just don't want to believe there is no hope.) At 11 yesterday, Aunt Leah and Uncle Stan brought Ken's mom, Elaine, and Aunt Lavon up too see Ken. Toby and my mom, arrived with Ken's sister, Lisa. They had driven to Colorado Springs to pick up Lisa. We had a good visit. Linda Castor visited in the afternoon as well. She said a nice prayer for Ken. I'm thankful that Ken has a large room. We were all able to sit in his room for much of the day and visit. Toby drove back to Colorado Springs to take Lisa home. A lot of driving for Toby, but I know Lisa was grateful. At 5:15, I picked up Katy, Mark and little Norah. I only saw Norah for a few minutes before they took her off to put her to bed, but I enjoyed seeing her. Then I went back to the hospital and Ken's brother, Rick, arrived from Las Vegas. Elaine had actually stayed with Ken and Rick took her home last night. Then Stephanie arrived and we went out to dinner. Katy and Mark and Jeff and Sara joined us. We stayed late at Old Chicago's. I had a strawberry daiquiri for Ken. Those of you that don't know Ken as well as we do, that was his drink of choice. He loved his sweet tea, sweet classic coca-cola, and strawberry daiquiris. He was not afraid to order he frilly drink. I don't usually drink them, but it tasted good last night. It was good to have some time alone with the kids. They have been so supportive. We talked about arrangements and about how weird it was to be talking about arrangements when Ken hasn't yet passed. I love my kids. It will be great to have them all close by this week. They are holding me up. I hope I can give them the support they need as well. It is different for me. I have been sitting with Ken for weeks, living this and fearing this every moment. The kids haven't had as much time to process this. I hate that we have to. I can't believe we are at this point.

Today will be busy as well. I expect all the kids to arrive today; Anna is coming in from New York City and Tessa from Steamboat. I hope the roads are good for Tessa. Rick is coming back, my parents and Toby will be here. I expect and welcome any other visitors that want to stop by today for a chance to say good-bye to Ken. I respect all those that don't want to see him so quiet. He is after all, a loud laugher and we will miss hearing his laugh. We are at Presbyterian St. Lukes in room 3409, BMT North.

Bless everyone. Give us strength to get through this day. Bev

Nothing More

So the meeting went as I expected, not as I wished. There is nothing more they can do for Ken. His lungs are not reparable. We are making arrangements to let him go. My heart is breaking, but I feel your support and love. I will let you know as plans are being made. Some family is coming tomorrow to tell him good-bye, more are coming on Sunday. I don't know what else to say except thank you for your prayers.
God Bless You.
Bev

The Hardest Day

This is Friday, January 22nd. This is going to be the hardest day. I don't know how I will get through it. My heart is breaking. I have been talking to Ken this morning. I want him to wake up and tell me what to do. I want him to wake up and apologize for putting me through this. I want him to make it stop. I want him back. I want to tell him I love him and hear him say he loves me.
Today is the "Family Meeting" with all the people involved. There are more and more people that have been telling me they are going to be there. First there will be me, my son, Jeff and his wife, Sara, my parents, my sister-in-law, Toby, our 4 girls and my son-in-law will be on the phone. Then there will be Dr. Matous, the oncology Dr. we started the bone marrow transplant with; Dr. Clark, the pulmonary intensivist Dr, (or Dr. Fayngersh if Dr. Clark isn't available); the infectious disease Dr.; Monica, a case management nurse that follows the oncology team on rounds; Ken's day nurse; the hospital clergy; a psychologist; the social worker; seems like I am forgetting someone. It will be a full room of experts. Really? I don't want to hear what I know they are going to tell me.
It is 3:30 am. I am watching the nurses give Ken a bath now. They are taking such good care of him. They have shut off his feeding tube for the night. It usually runs 24/7, but he has to fast this morning for his liver ultrasound they are performing this morning. The docs have ordered a bunch of tests for this morning. A liver ultrasound to see if his liver shows signs of illness after all the antibiotics, the sedation meds and the steroids. They ordered blood gases and a new x-ray of his chest. Please God, let them find a miracle in his lungs. Let them find healing. Let them find low CO2 levels and high oxygen levels. I wish his lungs would just start moving. They are going to tell me that they are stuck. That there is no compliance, no flexibility. That there is permanent scarring that can't be healed. They are going to say his oxygen volume he accepts is too low and his pressures are too high. This means that when they put a small volume of air in Ken's lungs with the respirator, his pressures are too high. This means the air is causing pressure instead of his lungs expanding and accepting that volume of air. I hope they are going to say that they think Ken still needs more time and that he still has a chance. I want this day to be a great day.
My mind has been all over the place in the last 2 days. I've been thinking about Ken making his peace with God. I remember him telling me just before we started the transplant, that he did just that. I know God is with us, but I don't want Ken to be ready. I want him to stay here. I've been thinking about Ken's wishes. He has always wanted to be an organ donor. We went together to a church about 20 years ago to get tested and be on the bone marrow national registry. I even got called once about 5 years ago to go in for initial testing to be a donor. It turned out that I wasn't really a match, but Ken was excited for me. Ken has always had organ donor on his drivers license. It will make him sad to know that because of his cancer and all the steroids he has been on, he will not be able to be a donor now. I've been thinking about all the times that Ken and I laid awake all night and talked about the kids, our jobs, about our life together, about our future. I want him to talk to me now. He wants to go to Disney World. How can I ever go without him? He couldn't wait till Norah gets old enough to take her there. Ken and I always said we were going to go to Florida and work at Disney World for a bit after retirement. We thought it would be such a fun place to work. He loved that some of his students were able to go there for internships. I hope heaven has a Disney World for Ken. Maybe Walt has been there long enough to create a fantastic Disney twist for God's world. Ken would love that.
How am I going to get through this day? How am I going to manage? I am so thankful that part of my family will be with me. I worry about our girls that will be on the phone by themselves. I know Steph is going to be taking lunch in her car. I hate that she will be alone for this call. And Anna is so far away in New York. Tessa is going to get snowed in at Steamboat with all the snow that is predicted this weekend. I know Katy has Mark to help her through. Mark is so strong and he takes such good care of her. I wish they could all be here. I want to wrap my arms around all of them. I've been living this with Ken every day. I have talked to the doctors and have asked my questions every day. It is so hard for the kids to be so far away. They have been a great source of strength for me. But Ken is my rock. I need him so much. I miss him already. He hasn't talked to me since Dec. 20th. But at least I have been able to hold his hand and talk to him. He has started to grow his beard again. We have shaved him a few times. His hair on his head hasn't started to come in yet, but they say the beard comes first.
I wish this wasn't happening. Dr. McSweeney, another oncology doctor told me yesterday that they think Ken having the swine flu and having pneumonia at that time, played a really big part in Ken being where he is now. They actually have another BMT patient that had the swine flu that is having lung injury as well. I don't think it is as bad as Ken. I hope not. I hope they don't do a bone marrow transplant on any other patients soon after the swine flu. Wish they had known this before Ken started. We could have delayed his BMT. Hindsight. We can't go back. Ken would say it is what it is. But I say that what it is, stinks. It isn't fair. It isn't suppose to be like this. I want it to get fixed. I want them to find a way to help Ken. I want him back. I love him.