What ‘love, prayer and laughter’ can do
Late March last year, Rappahannock icon Ted Pellegatta went to bed feeling fine, a little achy now and then but still chipper at 84, covering two or three miles daily along Sperryville’s Thornton River with his walking buddy Ed Timperlake.
But the next day, when Pellegatta woke, he couldn’t walk or even stand unaided. After a week at the University of Virginia (UVA) hospital in Charlottesville, he knew the reason — cancer of the brain, stomach, liver, kidneys and adrenal gland.
He rejected radiation and chemotherapy. “I was going to feel miserable, lose my hair, lose my appetite and get what? Six more months?” The one-time restaurateur and salesman from Baltimore and D.C., the man of many talents who had transformed himself into the paparazzi of the Blue Ridge and Rappahannock’s de facto poet laureate and troubadour, came home to hospice care instead.
A stream of friends and admirers — he said 160 in the first week alone — flowed through the riverside cottage on Sperryville’s Mt. Vernon Farm. And they orchestrated a unique celebration of life, presented while Ted was still alive to appreciate the love, respect and honor. At last April’s inaugural Teddy Fest, a couple hundred folks gathered to eat, drink, dance and say goodbye — because Pellegatta wasn’t expected to live but a month or two.
Surprise! The irrepressible raconteur gives an encore on Sunday, April 27 at Teddy Fest 2.0, again with Bobby G and the Heavies plus a pig roast, burgers, dogs and the usual awesome array of side dishes and sweets for a Rappahannock potluck party.
“He’s back and he’s thriving” proclaims a Teddy Fest 2.0 announcement. “Our favorite Rappahannock friend is celebrating his life AGAIN!”
Miracle? Luck? Homeopathic success story?
“Good juju!” Pellegatta insisted in an interview earlier this month, with his characteristic chuckle and that “I’ve-got-a-secret” twinkle dancing in his eyes. “I wake up weepy so many mornings, crying happy tears because I am blessed to be here, blessed to be in this magical place surrounded and supported by wonderful people and their prayers . . . It’s the whole community carrying me, and each time I come close to death, I gain a deeper appreciation for life.”
Medically, it’s unclear exactly the explanation for Pellegatta’s remarkable endurance. Citing privacy laws that protect patient health information, Pellegatta declined to grant permission to interview his doctors. Regardless, it’s been quite a year, he acknowledged.
Doug Elkins, Brett Sechrest, Sheida Jafari, Ed Timperlake, Ted Pellegatta and Ted Goshorn gather at Before & After coffee shop in Sperryville. (Photo/Luke Christopher)
Researching treatments
He spent untold hours at the start researching alternative medical treatments before settling on a regimen of turmeric, magnesium, Ivermectin and a highly concentrated form of the psychoactive ingredient in cannabis, plus a stem cell patch. Hospice supplied pain pills and palliative care meds; he never felt the need to take any.
He expected pain, he was prepared for it, it never came. Instead, his days settled into a comfortable routine. Total breakfast cereal with milk and honey “for practically all the vitamins and minerals I need,” then coffee, companionship, culinary treats and conversation at Before & After cafe in Sperryville. Pellegatta and a cadre of friends hold court mornings in the coffee shop’s front corner, “telling lies and solving the problems of the world,” as Pellegatta described the entertaining repartee.
In late March 2024, when he was released from UVA hospital to hospice after the cancer diagnosis, Pellegatta needed a walker to get around the house. By the new year, he was back to walking a mile every day.
He felt good, he was having fun and cancer was the last thing on his mind. Then he hit a bump that threw him back into the hospital early this year. “I was tired, it was early afternoon so I lay down for a nap . . . and I woke up 27 hours later. The doctor said if I’d slept for two more hours, I would have drowned — my lungs would have filled with fluid.”
Also, he had pneumonia and the flu. In the hospital for five days, Pellegatta was X-rayed, scanned and MRI-ed, his blood tested and all his parts studied. He had a new spot on his lungs (and again, he refused radiation and chemo) but he said the existing cancers were unchanged — no growth at all.
Apprised of his self-proscribed treatment regimen, Pellegatta said a doc wanted to know how Pellegatta secured Ivermectin, an antiparasitic drug currently being studied for its antitumor effects. So far, there’s no scientific evidence that the drug can cure cancer.
“From the co-op,” Pellegatta answered, “It’s a livestock wormer.” And he jokingly added, “Don’t worry. The label warned against under-dosing, so I didn’t.”
And what could the doctors counter? How could they argue? His blood pressure, temperature, pulse rate and blood oxygen level were normal to optimal. His appetite was good, his digestion untroubled, he had suffered no falls, he slept well, and most importantly, he was pain free.
Out of hospice
“I was kicked out of hospice on Feb. 4,” Pellegatta joked. “People said, ‘Oh, that’s terrible.’ Are you kidding me? That’s frigging great news. For someone about to die 10 months earlier, I was one healthy SOB. The docs took me off all meds — from blood pressure and arthritis to anti-nausea and breathing enhancers. My next appointment isn’t until Aug. 28. And everything still works.”
He attributes the glad state of affairs to “love, prayer and laughter,” the primary ingredients in that Rappahannock juju. “I believe in the power of prayer. I don’t understand the power, but I believe in it.”
He’s using his time creatively, writing new poetry and putting old verse to music, and he has two new songs on Spotify: “Country Women” and “Forever in a Dream.”
“Thank you, Smiggie,” Pellegatta said appreciatively of the studio time and technical assistance that Robert Smith, one of the county’s premiere music makers, provided. “Just proving again that Rappahannock has an especially high ratio of kind folks to regular folks in its overall population,” he noted.
He’s planning more of the same creativity, friendship and fun combo for the future, composing as he watches the Thornton River flow from the porch of the cottage he rents from Cliff Miller, “another of the kind people of this county.” He’ll hang out mornings with old timers at Before & After, sometimes moving to The Black Twig patio or the Golf Shop in the afternoons, sharing stories, writing, meeting new folks, learning about lives and life.
Pellegatta has a treasure, a letter from one of the lead doctors on his care team. She was writing, she explained, after his song, “Never is a Good Time for a Broken Heart,” came up on her playlist. “I think of you and that it has been a pleasure having you as a patient,” she wrote. “I imagine you are living your life to the fullest even in these days. You are inspiring! Thank you for that!”
The printout from his last UVA visit lists liver lesion, renal mass and metastatic cancer among his ongoing health issues. “I’m going to die, no doubt about it,” Pellegatta acknowledged, grinning and shaking his head. “But cancer won’t set the schedule.” Instead, he’ll go out on Rappahannock time.
“You know doctors, they just practice medicine, they’re not perfect at it. It’s not an exact science.” So, Pellegatta is repeating the same promise he made at the first Teddy Fest: “I’m going to live it up until I die.”
And with that good Rappahannock juju going strong, who knows when this magical mystery tour will end? That same question may be dangling at Teddy Fest 3.0.
