He had his Phillies cap pulled down tight, his dark jacket on, his jeans, and he was feeling lucky. He was, after all, the son of a man who had taught him to fish off the dock of Mike’s Boats in Tuckerton, NJ — how to tease the fish, how to hook them, how to reel them in. The catch was flounder back in childhood, but this time, July of 2017, Warren Gilbert was on a boat in Alaska’s Halibut Cove, friends at his side.
“You look like you know what you’re doing,” the boat captain said.
Warren’s not a boastful man, but he nodded at the captain’s words. He knew.
The tug came soon enough. The first nibble. Warren lifted his hook, then let it sink back in. Lifted and dipped, lifted and dipped, until the mighty halibut was right where Warren wanted — a fifty-pound beauty that put up its dignified fight then gleamed in the sun when Warren hauled it in. “One of the best memories of my life,” Warren says now, glancing out toward the street through the window of his home in Bristol, PA. “One of the very best.” His voice is quiet. His eyes are the brightest possible version of blue. He brings the past forward, relives it.
But there are other memories, too — indelible moments that play through Warren’s mind and buoy him as he lives with the excruciating pain that has resulted from a series of spinal injuries and surgeries. There were the years he sang in his high school chorus. There was the birth of his four children, with his first wife. There was the amassing of a record collection — Barry Manilow through Pink Floyd, and all the beats and heartbeats in between.
There also was that moment in church, some 12 years ago, when he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Janice Spagnoli standing there — Janice, the high school beauty who had always seemed just out of reach and who had, Warren knew, faced two bouts of cancer early on. It couldn’t be Janice standing there, looking up at him with her own sky-blue eyes, but it was. Within a year the two were standing on the white sands of Punta Cana, Janice in her white wedding gown and Warren in his white, pressed shirt. They’d written words for each other, but Warren could not get through his. His eyes blurred. His voice faltered. You can do this, his brother finally stepped up and whispered. And, of course, Warren did.
“Oh, that was a good day,” Warren says. “And the sea — it was so blue.”
A personalized, holistic approach to complex care needs
Janice and Warren singing together at church. Janice and Warren traveling side by side, harmonizing in the car. Janice and Warren out to eat. Janice and Warren finding Libby, their poodle mix, at a shelter. They cried that day, bringing Libby home, the world’s best dog who now hardly leaves their sides.
It isn’t entirely clear what caused the many spinal injuries that Warren has sustained. His body took hard blows, It’s true, back when he was a star high school football guard (yes — football and chorus at the same time) and, later, during decades playing basketball and softball. There was, as well, all the lifting that came with Warren’s job as an orthopedic technician at Jefferson Hospital — his work with patients in need of casts, halos, heavy lifting. What is clear is that the pain remains, it is intense, and when doctors suggested that a pacemaker would be necessary to help mitigate Warren’s worrisome bradycardia, Warren quite definitively said no. No more cutting. No more surgical pain or complications. No more medically extending a life that is so rife with pain.
Warren’s medical case is complex, and when, during Covid, his primary care provider passed away, Warren and Janice were faced with a decision: to continue on with a new physician within the old practice or to find out more about Patina, a company that was introduced to them by a letter they received from their insurance company, Independence Blue Cross. The first introductory call with Patina lasted an hour, Janice says. Warren and Janice listened, amazed. Patina’s medical team would come to them, they were told. It would take on the coordination of Warren’s care — all aspects of it, a truly holistic approach. Blood work could be done right in their home. An EKG, too, when necessary. Frequent checking in through video chats, phone calls, mobile apps were all part of the package.
“No more driving to doctor’s offices and sitting in waiting rooms in intense pain. No more meeting with people who didn’t understand. It seemed perfect. We said yes.”
A care team that’s like family
But care is always personal, and Warren and Janice love — love is the right word — Val Voluntad, his Health Champion, and Michelle Lu, his PCP. They listen to Warren and Janice. They care. They honor Warren’s decision not to move ahead with pacemaker surgery, have arranged hospice care for the couple, have remixed and rearranged the medications until Warren is at last feeling somewhat better — able to leave bed now for an hour or so each day, able to eat Janice’s hamburgers at night, able to drink the single Pepsi that Michelle allows. Warren will do anything that Michelle says, actually. She’s become, Janice says, like a daughter to him. Like a daughter to them both.
“Warren and Janice love — love is the right word — Val Voluntad, his Health Champion, and Michelle Lu, his PCP. They listen to Warren and Janice. They care.”
It seems more than fitting, actually, that Patina has become a part of Warren’s life at this time. For the compassion that lives at the heart of the company has always defined Warren. He is the son-in-law who helped take care of Janice’s mother until she passed away. He is the uncle who cared for the niece after dental surgery. He is the man who talked hundreds of patients through casts and halos. He is the singer and the dancer, the jokester, the friend who makes Janice laugh even today, the man with his hand on Libby’s head as this afternoon moves on. Warren has lived his life looking out for others, and today Patina, along, of course, with Janice — his angel, he says — look out for him.
Kismet, then. And many shades of blue.
Learn how other Patina patients are enjoying a better healthcare experience in these additional stories.
Enjoy primary care from Patina
Available at the same cost you pay for primary care with your Medicare plan today, Patina is a different kind of primary care that helps you thrive in all aspects of life. You’ll get a dedicated care team that includes a Patina Primary Care Practitioner (PCP) and Patina Health Champion who take the time to know you, understand your needs, and help you navigate the healthcare system – so you get the care you deserve on your terms via video visits, phone, chat and in-person visits, when needed.
Warren's Story
Father of four; married to Janice; lives in Bristol, Pa.
Lifelong music and sports enthusiast
Has lived with significant pain for several years and needed to find a new primary care provider (PCP)
Began seeing Patina PCP Michelle Lu; gets additional support from Val Voluntad, his Patina Health Champion
Blood work, EKG and other tests performed at home, supplemented by frequent video / phone / mobile chat check-ins with the Patina team, who coordinates all of his care and have become like trusted friends