by Nancy Reagan
They had their family with them, including their daughter Inez, who had once been kidnapped. Pretty girl.
The dinner went well. Lionel Hampton entertained. He’s eighty years old, but wonderful. He played all the old, great songs.
Ralph Lauren was on the other side of me [Duarte, by protocol, was on my right]. Ralph had had a brain tumor, although he’s fine now. He was telling me about it, and I was thinking, Boy, he’s going to be awfully surprised when he reads about me in a couple of days!
October 15: Elaine, Jack [Courtemanche, my chief of staff], and I had a meeting with Marlin in the West Hall to tell him the news and to decide what he should say tomorrow. Marlin was shocked. We really did keep this secret for ten days. Amazing! They ought to hire me over in the West Wing, because everything leaks over there. They say that women talk too much, but it was the women who kept the secret.
I asked Jane to call our kids tomorrow morning, while I’m in New Hampshire, so they won’t learn about it from the media.
Tried to go to bed early because this waiting is so awful.
October 16: Flew to New Hampshire early for the meeting. It was a beautiful day with the leaves turning. I hadn’t been in New Hampshire since the 1980 campaign.
When I came out a group of kids were waiting for hugs and autographs. By this time Marlin had given his briefing and word had reached a CBS reporter. Elaine saw him coming over to me, and stopped him as we hurried to the car.
When I got back, Robin [Weir, my hairdresser] came to wash my hair before I went to the hospital. He said he had received a call from People magazine asking when he had last seen me, and about my going to the hospital. He told them, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s in New Hampshire.” It was the first he had heard about it, and he was as surprised as everyone else.
Dick arrived at five. He, Ronnie, and I had an early dinner in the family dining room, quiet and quick, with all of us trying to talk about anything but where I was going. We left for the hospital at 6:45. There was a large crowd on the South Lawn. The press wished me luck. I just wished we would get there.
And then, there I was, walking into the same building, the same room [where Ronnie had been for his cancer surgery in 1985 and his prostate surgery in January]. God, how many times.
[I stayed in the presidential suite, which consists of a large bedroom, a sitting room, a conference room, two bedrooms in case you want somebody to stay over, two or three examining rooms, and a communications room.]
The doctors came and talked to Ronnie and Dick while I went downstairs for a chest X ray. When I got back, Ronnie and Dick left, and Dr. McIlrath, who was doing the surgery, examined me and explained everything. Again, they gave me the choice of what I wanted them to do, assuming they found a malignancy. Again, I opted for the mastectomy. I said, “Look, if you get in there and find out that’s what it is, please don’t wake me to have a conversation about it. Just do it. It shouldn’t take you long, because there isn’t much there to take off. Dolly Parton I’m not.”
I was supposed to take a shower before bed, but just then they announced on TV that they were getting little Jessica McClure out of the well. So of course I stopped and sat in my robe at the end of the bed and watched them get her out. I couldn’t get into the shower until I knew she was all right. When she was safe, I was so happy for her parents.
After shower, bed. Nothing to eat or drink after midnight. Not even water, which is hard for me. They gave me a sleeping pill, because otherwise I wouldn’t have slept.
October 17: They woke me at 6:30. Ronnie and Dick were supposed to come out by helicopter, but there was a thick fog in Washington. Ronnie was getting upset and impatient. He finally said, “Just get me into a car and let’s go. I want to be there before she goes into surgery.”
Meanwhile, I was saying, “Just take me in. Let’s get this over with.” Ten days of waiting was enough.
The operation was scheduled for 7:30. Dr. Hutton came in to say that Ronnie and Dick were on the way. “But let’s get you on the gurney.” When they arrived, Ronnie and I had a quick chance to kiss and say goodbye.
They took me first to a room where they put a wire in my breast to be sure they had the exact location of the lesion. It looked worse than it was, but it sure wasn’t pleasant. I knew what to expect because last night I saw it on the television news. I told Ronnie that for Christmas we could always exchange framed diagrams of our cancer operations.
And then up to the operating room. They put something in my vein to make me sleep. I remember asking, “How long will it take? Let’s get going.” Somebody answered, “It won’t take long,” and it didn’t. I was out like a light.
Ronnie and Dick had breakfast while they waited. I found out later that when the pathology report showed the tumor was malignant, which had been expected, Ronnie wept. One of the nurses put her arms around him to comfort him.
[I have no memory of this, but they told me later that in the operating room I asked at least four times if they had removed my breast. I kept falling asleep before they could answer me, but finally I stayed awake long enough to hear them say, “Yes, we have.”
I have no memory at all of the recovery room. Evidently the first thing I managed to say to Ronnie was “They took my breast,” followed by “I feel so sorry for you.” And he said it didn’t make any difference.
He said, “Honey, I know you don’t feel like dancing, so let’s just hold hands.”
When we got back to my hospital room, I remember trying to talk to Ronnie and Dick, and not being able to get the words out. They told me later that I had said, “Please don’t let Bob Woodward in my room.” Where did that come from? I must have been flashing back to William Casey.]
Ronnie stayed until Howard Baker called and said he had to return for a meeting at the White House regarding Iran and the Persian Gulf. An American-owned ship had been hit by one of their missiles. John Hutton came and explained why Ronnie had to leave.
Dick went back to Philadelphia. Ronnie met with Admiral William Crowe, Cap Weinberger, and Frank Caducci, and it was decided that our ships would destroy an oil-drilling platform in the ocean that was being used as a radar base to track our shipping.
Cardinal O’Connor had a mass for me in New York. Stu Spencer went and lit a candle.
October 18: I slept until 8:30. Then the IV came out and I felt well enough to eat a full breakfast. Ronnie arrived around ten. When he left the White House, he told the press, “I’ve got a date with a girl in Bethesda.”
The drains in my breast were still in, but I walked in the hall with Ronnie carrying the tubes for me. Everyone was amazed that I was walking only twenty-four hours after surgery. I remember my father telling me how important it was to get up as soon as possible after an operation, so you don’t get bedridden—or too comfortable.
After lunch, Ronnie had to go back to fill in for me for the taping of “In Performance at the White House.” Linda [Faulkner, my social secretary] had called Marvin Hamlisch when my surgery was announced to tell him that I wouldn’t be able to do my usual part in the show, and that Ronnie would fill in. It was a tribute to Jerome Kern—romantic music that I would have loved. And when I watched it later on tape, Marvin said that he missed me, that he knew I loved this kind of music and was dedicating the program to me. So sweet of him, and typical. When they played “Don’t Ever Leave Me,” it just about did me in.
[Originally, Marvin came to do one “In Performance,” but we quickly became good friends, and he ended up doing all of them. He even talked me into singing “Our Love Is Here to Stay,” and from then on, he usually had me in on the performances.]
Then Ronnie went upstairs for a meeting about Iran with the congressional leadership and Colin Powell [the national security adviser]. Carlucci had left to join Shultz in Russia. Linda canceled the Cabinet dinners we were supposed to have on the 20th and 21st.
So many calls: Betty Ford, Happy Rockefeller, Margaret Thatcher, the Nixons, many more. Ma
ry Jane Wick came out in the afternoon to see me, because they were leaving the next day for Europe. She said, “I couldn’t leave before seeing your little face again.” Doug and C.Z. [her sons] called.
I had called Marge [who was in charge of caring for my mother] at Mother’s house to tell her before I went into the hospital, but have not felt up to calling back yet.
Good news! John Hutton released a statement that said, “Final laboratory analysis of tissue and lymph nodes removed during yesterday’s surgery confirm there is no further malignancy or evidence of other disease. No further treatment is expected, other than normal routine examinations. Mrs. Reagan’s prognosis for full recovery is excellent.”
When the doctors came in to tell me, I was happy and relieved.
October 19: Elaine and Jane came for the first time, bringing letters, cards, telegrams. Doria called, crying. Her mother’s cancer had invaded her liver. I called Dick again and he contacted her and they got things calmed down.
I walked around again dragging the suction machine. Feeling strong, but napping in the afternoons. I am moving my arm well and I feel quite proud of myself.
To top off everything, the stock market went down 500 points today. Nobody can figure out why. The economy is sound, interest rates are down, and the GNP is up. The market was due for a correction, but this is ridiculous.
Poor Ronnie. What a week for him! Me, Iran, and now the stock market.
Today the drains came out. Whoopee! Now I don’t have to drag that thing around the hall with me. I had my first shower since the operation.
Bets [my friend Betsy Bloomingdale] came to see me. She brought me a pretty robe that I wore when Ronnie and I had our pictures taken leaning out the window.
Ronnie came for dinner. We talked about the operation and he said, “That’s all right, honey. I’ve always been a leg man myself.”
Many messages arriving from dozens of foreign heads of state. Very personal, not the standard formal messages you might expect. There was even a message from Mrs. [Daniel] Ortega. Flowers keep coming in. We gave them to children in the hospital, and we got some of the cutest thank-you notes.
I can’t get over all the people I’ve heard from, even from people I don’t know at all. Jane has been staying at the hospital the whole time. I don’t know what I would do without her and Elaine.
Doria called to say that she and her mother felt better, and then I talked to her mother.
Then Jane stuck her head in and said, “Your daughter’s on the phone.”
“My daughter, Patti?”
“Yes.”
I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t talked to Patti in two years. She said that she and Paul were thinking of me, and asked me how I was feeling. Then right away she urged me to have reconstructive surgery. That seemed abrupt. I told her I really wasn’t thinking about that, that I was just taking one day at a time. I was barely out of one operation, and certainly wasn’t ready to go through more surgery right away.
It was a short and rather stiff conversation, although I was glad she called. But I couldn’t help wondering if she talked about reconstructive surgery because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. I longed to hear something more comforting about what I had just gone through.
October 20: I heard a couple of comments on television that I had made the wrong choice, that I should have had a lumpectomy. But that’s a very personal decision. I chose what I thought was best for me.
The important thing is that every woman should have an annual mammogram. That’s the message I want to get out. What they decide after that, if they find a problem, is up to each individual woman.
Ronnie had a late meeting at the White House with Alan Greenspan, Beryl Sprinkel, and Jim Baker on the stock market, which closed up 108 points. Dick came in this afternoon and stayed for dinner.
A press conference has been announced for Thursday, so Ronnie prepared in the afternoon.
October 21: Ronnie told the press on the way to the hospital that he was going to bring me home the next morning. Doria called to say that Ron had left a message on their machine to say that he was fogged in and couldn’t leave Moscow. It was the worst fog in Russian history. Shultz is over there too, and they had to send a train to get him from Helsinki to Moscow.
Dr. Donald McIlrath, who did the surgery, went home. He said I was the best patient he’d ever had. I wanted to say he was the best doctor I’d ever had, but I’d never had this done before. But I’m sure he was anyway.
Market closed up 186 points. Crazy. George Will came out to see me in the morning. Just back from one speaking engagement and then on to another at noon. Nancy Reynolds came after lunch. All my dear old friends. They mean so much at a time like this.
October 22: Got up early to leave. It felt funny to get into real clothes. I put on a bra with padding in it. Ronnie arrived around ten. When we left the room, we saw that the nurses had put a sign on the wall, saying MRS. REAGAN, WE LOVE YOU.
Paula, one of the nurses, put her arms around me and cried, and said, “You’re the best patient I’ve ever had, and that includes your husband.”
All the doctors and nurses lined up to say goodbye.
Arrived back to a huge group on the South Lawn to welcome me, including Foster Grandparents, Just Say No kids, plus lots of others. The band played songs like “Ain’t She Sweet,” and I did a little dance and kicked up my feet. We went up on the balcony to say thank you and wave.
Ronnie had to go to a meeting on financial problems. I came upstairs to find huge bunches of flowers, and the butlers and the maids waiting for me. I was still swollen, and the bra was cutting into me and hurting me. I took it off and don’t know when I’ll put it back on.
Jane and I tried to get some work done before and after lunch. But I was too tired, so I took a nap.
Ronnie came home early because of his press conference. [As always, I watched it on television in the West Hall.] All they wanted to talk about was taxes. Would he raise taxes? He refused to get boxed in, saying that everything was on the table except Social Security, and he wasn’t going to announce in advance what he expected to discuss. He did well.
October 23: Tried to sleep late this morning. So tired that I couldn’t even get dressed until after lunch. We left for Camp David at 3:30.
Beautiful weather, with the leaves turning. Ran an old picture with John Wayne and Kate Hepburn.
They counted up all the letters, cards, and wires, and it came to something like thirty-six thousand! One of the most touching was a gift of two red carnations from Celia, one of the bag ladies who has established herself in Lafayette Park. Somebody called the flower shop and they told us who it was. That was all the money she had.
October 24: The doctors showed me some arm exercises to start, and said that I should walk with my arms swinging. So later [at Camp David] we took another walk. I think the Secret Service men in back of me must have thought I was crazy because I was swinging my arms back and forth so vigorously.
I still haven’t shown Ronnie—me.
Even though he says it doesn’t make any difference, and I believe him, I somehow can’t bring myself to do it yet. I’ll know when the time is right.
Ron called, just back from Russia. Finally got on a train to Helsinki and flew to Frankfurt and on to Los Angeles. He couldn’t get to Washington. We had a long talk about the operation, and then about his trip. I told him I’d received the dearest letter from Doria, and how much it meant to me. It was full of love and concern, and I’ll save it forever. I couldn’t help wishing it had come from my own daughter.
October 25: Watched morning shows. Lots of speculation about Gorbachev and the date of the summit. [The Washington summit took place in early December.] Mermie was here when we got back, very solicitous of me.
Took a nap and some calls. Ronnie met with Shultz and Carlucci for a report on their meeting with Gorbachev.
October 26: More calls, flowers. Had my hair washed, which, as any woman knows, always makes
you feel a little better.
I was supposed to have tea with Joan Rivers at four-thirty, and I thought I should lie down for half an hour. I was missing the naps I took in the hospital. Just as I lay down, the phone rang and it was Ron. A moment later, the bedroom door opened and in walked Ronnie.
What in the world was Ronnie doing home at four o’clock in the afternoon?
I said to Ron, “Hold on a minute. Daddy just came in and something must be wrong.”
I looked at Ronnie’s face and it was just stricken. I could see that something terrible had happened, and that he didn’t know how to tell me. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and I kept saying to him, “What is it? Tell me. What’s wrong? What is it?”
Finally he said, “Honey, Edie is now with Loyal.”
I started to shout: “No, no!,” crying at the same time.
Ronnie picked up the phone and told Ron that my mother was dead, and that he’d call him later.
Mother had died of a stroke. Tom Chauncey [an old family friend in Phoenix] had called Elaine [Crispen] to tell her. Elaine went to John Hutton, and John walked over to the Oval Office to tell Ronnie.
Ronnie had said, “My God, how will I tell her? On top of everything.”
Just a few days ago Jane and I had made arrangements for me to go out and see Mother next month.
I kept saying, “Please, let me go to her. Please. Just let me go to her. And don’t let them do anything to her. Don’t do anything to the apartment. Just get me there.”
Mother had asked to be cremated, but I wanted to see her one last time. Oh, my darling little mother! No longer there to go and see. [Toward the end there was no longer any communication, but at least I could touch her and kiss her.]
I feel so guilty that I wasn’t there when it happened. Tom Chauncey was there and I wasn’t.
Tom told me that her eyes had been closed most of the time. He was sitting with her, holding her hand. She opened her eyes and looked at him, and then closed them and died. It was peaceful, but oh, how I will miss her.