In Loving Memory of
DR. KIMBERLY KAY ROOS
(1963-2022)
Below is a letter written by Kim’s husband, Les, to her after her passing, telling Kim’s story and describing their life together.
To my Kim,
My beautiful darling, this is so hard for me to write. You were so young when our lives came together and our 17-year age difference should have guaranteed that this never happened, but it did, and I want to share my memories of your incredible life.
Yes, you were beautiful when we met but, to my credit, I saw an inner beauty, strength and compassion that maybe wasn’t apparent to many others because you were reserved, and often shy in social situations, particularly with my contemporaries. But I knew what I had and within weeks of our dating, I asked you to marry me. Your response was not the fairy tale “yes, of course” but rather, “let me think about it.” You did and, to my relief, pretty soon you said yes and our life as a couple truly began. That life would be filled with happiness but also with challenges and struggles we overcame together.
Unlike me, who had been told since I was little that I would certainly go to college, you were told the opposite. As said to you by your father when you were a teenager, “at 18 you are out the door and on your own.” In truth, you essentially supported yourself since you were 16 including caring for your mother in her time of need when you were still a teenager.
Although you had only a high school education (and barely that) when we married, I knew you could do more, and although family was always your priority, you too wanted more educationally and professionally. However, before you began that path, we started our family with the birth of our first two boys, Jason and Logan, and your natural instinct for motherhood and devotion to family were obvious. Shortly after Logan’s birth and with my encouragement, you enrolled in a couple of courses at what was then Metropolitan State College in Denver. I remember coming home from work on the day of your first class filled with excitement, waiting to hear how your first day went. When I asked, with embarrassment, you said when you looked in the classroom and saw the other students you couldn’t go in; you felt inadequate and without the confidence you belonged in that setting, so you left and came home. That was it for Metro, but your desire remained and after a while you tried again, enrolling in Arapahoe Community College. There your educational journey, and ultimately your path to medicine, began. I believe you felt more comfortable with community college students, relaxed a bit and took some science courses and found your niche. I remember your enthusiasm watching you study, once looking at your textbooks to discover virtually every sentence underlined because you were worried and wanted to know everything. Then we had our third son, Joshua, and you took an anatomy course and knew you had found your calling. You loved dissecting and exploring the human body and told me you wanted to be a nurse.
With your newfound confidence, you transferred to the University of Colorado, we moved north to be nearer to Boulder, and unexpectedly, you became pregnant with our fourth son, Landon. You switched your major to Molecular, Cellular and Developmental Biology with a minor in Biochemistry, and excelled. Phi Beta Kappa, 4.0 grades and by now, although you might have been reluctant to mention it, you knew your dream was not a nursing career, but rather, to be a doctor, but not just any doctor, an OBGYN, having been so inspired by the care you received from your own OBGYN, Dr. Gary Milzer, during your pregnancies.
We would, however, face another hurdle to overcome in your journey. Landon’s pregnancy had problems and a specialist told us you should consider terminating it. Neither you, nor I would accept that and you continued with the pregnancy until your water broke in the Duane Physics building at CU in the middle of a final exam, which you finished and then rushed home to bed, where you stayed for over a month, preserving Landon’s life, until his premature birth. Ironically, Landon would attend class in that same classroom approximately 20 years later.
Your college year was interrupted but, after Landon’s birth, you returned to CU and graduated with honors intent on applying to medical school at the University of Colorado Health Science Center. You did but were not accepted despite your outstanding grades and college record, and in talking to admissions we understood that, although never expressly stated, the main reason was someone older than the typical applicant and a mother of four small children was assumed to have a low chance of finishing medical school.
Nevertheless, you wouldn’t let your dream die. You faced reality and applied elsewhere and were accepted at Penn State Medical School in Hershey, PA. I remember how proud the boys and I were at the “White Coat” ceremony when you and the other students were formally accepted into the medical school program. I also remember you sitting in the corner of the Hershey airport at the end of that weekend and crying your heart out as the boys and I boarded our flight back to Denver.
For the next year and one half, we lived a bifurcated life—you in Hershey learning to become a doctor, missing us, and suffering horrible guilt because you weren’t with your boys, me with the boys being Mr. Mom and enjoying every minute of it. Yes, my law practice suffered, but how thankful I am to have had that time focused mainly on our boys and their lives. We would come to see you or whenever you had a long weekend you would hop in your car and drive 24 hours straight to be with us. Of course, you excelled in medical school, but it was getting to be too much, and we were ready to move to Hershey in the summer when, finally, CU realized their mistake and accepted you as a transfer into their Denver program. What a joyous celebration the six of us had when we received the call from CU, knowing we would be together again.
Of course, medical school was hard, and you were driven to excel but now you could also return to being a mother of four young boys. Hectic years with you driving to Denver every day for medical school, and us both helping the boys with school and extracurricular activities and enjoying all their sports with me coaching at one time or another, all of them. How proud I was when you graduated and were awarded the Excellence in OB/GYN award and, since I am a Juris Doctor, I could formalize your graduation by “hooding” you on graduation day. On to residency at the University of Colorado Health Science Center.
Long hours in residency and hectic nights and weekends with the boys. I remember those evenings you would call me as you left downtown saying I just needed to talk to you on the drive home, so you wouldn’t fall asleep while driving. There weren’t the limitations on residency hours that there are now, and 80-hour weeks were common, but you loved it and the opportunity to care for patients.
Soon after completing residency, you accepted a position with The Women’s Health Group in Lafayette, Colorado and were affiliated with Exempla Good Samaritan Hospital. It wasn’t long before we started receiving cards from patients expressing their appreciation for your compassionate care similar to those that were posted online this past week after your passing. Patients felt your instinctive empathy, probably nurtured by your own struggles, while you always took time to listen to them and sometimes cry with them in difficult times. With Jason working out of state, Logan in college, and Joshua and Landon a Senior and Sophomore in high school, you had more freedom to throw yourself into your practice, and you did with enthusiasm and joy.
After about five years with The Women’s Health Group, you were contacted by a headhunter about a position in a regional hospital in Cape Girardeau, MO., a place we had never heard of. With significant debt still remaining from five college educations (the boys and yours) and medical school costs, we decided you would accept the very attractive offer Saint Francis made and leave our beloved Colorado.
That move took some adjusting and it wasn’t always easy in the beginning but before long you hit your stride. I remember when you interviewed, the medical director at Saint Francis scoffed at your RVUs (patient-related production) at The Women’s Health Group saying that simply wasn’t possible. Of course, you not only reached those levels but far exceeded them at Saint Francis, ultimately bringing thousands of new lives into the world over the years. You always found a slot for patients needing care, simply telling your nurse or the scheduler, “fit the patient in my schedule, I’ll see her.” Plus, to be honest, you were competitive and always strove to be the big producer, which you were. You often came in to deliver your patients even when you weren’t on call. You accepted all patients regardless of their insurance or ability to pay. You never turned away high-risk or complicated cases that were more likely to have negative outcomes or take extra time. These are things not all physicians were willing to do, but you believed, above all, in doing what was right for your patients and providing the best possible care you could. Finally, you were appointed to and then elected to the Medical Partners Board of Directors, the executive governing body for the now more than 250 medical partners at Saint Francis. Quite an achievement for that person who didn’t have the confidence to walk in a college classroom many years before. I also remember and cherish those many flights or long drives together when we would hurry back to Colorado on weekends to watch Landon play soccer at the University of Colorado.
Then there came the time, sometime in the Spring of 2020, when you said you didn’t know how much longer you could keep up your demanding schedule. Maybe it was the early effects of the sarcoma cancer that would ultimately take you from us, but we started to talk about an early retirement or trying locum tenens, where we could travel and enjoy different parts of the country while you still worked but at a reduced level. Before we could seriously consider that option though, you received that awful diagnosis and your two year battle with sarcoma cancer began. We traveled to MD Anderson Cancer Clinic in Houston for consultation, then surgery and radiation treatment at Barnes Jewish Hospital in St. Louis, only to discover the tumors were spreading. Back to MD Anderson for two months of chemotherapy and then several months of chemo back home at St. Francis because the wonderful staff there including Dr. Mark Meadors, said that although they didn’t specialize in the treatment of sarcomas, they would implement MD Anderson’s protocols so you could receive treatment at home.
Finally, to South Florida to be near two of our sons and our granddaughters and because one of our sons had identified a sarcoma specialist at the University of Miami Hospital who had practiced at MD Anderson for years.
For two years you battled and kept fighting to stay with us, the last three months of which were spent in the hospital where we celebrated our 38th wedding anniversary. All the time supported and cared for by your loving sons and their wives and significant others. I am so happy you were able to experience the amazing love and respect our four boys (young men) showered upon you. Interrupting their lives to come live with us and share memories of vacations and other joyous occasions together and to create new ones, but also to love you, hold you, and comfort you in times of despair and pain. They are heartbroken but the memory of you and your life will be with them and encourage them for the rest of their lives.
My darling, my angel, my hero, after more than 39 years together, I miss you so and pray you are resting in the peace and comfort you so richly deserve.
Love,
Les
View some of the many beautiful comments left by those who were touched by Kim’s life and work