Changing of the guard: Rice retires after decades in Libby

When Dr. Gregory Rice arrived in Libby, advancements in medicine were undergoing a revolution. His biggest fear in those first years was not keeping up with the outside world.

“In about 1982 or ’83, I remember having this panic attack feeling that I was getting completely out of date,” said Rice.

During his first decade in town, he saw the rise of clot busters and the use of fetal heart monitors. For the latter, Rice recalled local physicians faxing the recordings to Spokane so that they could be interpreted by specialists until they could learn to do it in town.

“I had no intention of not keeping up,” he said.

Rice, one of south Lincoln County’s most well respected physicians, retired last month. Since 1977, he has tended to Libby’s residents, treating their ailments and delivering their children, when he wasn’t cross-country skiing or cycling.

He sought out a place like Libby, a small community where he and his wife, Susie, could take an active role and make a difference. And ski, of course.

“I was not a big city boy. I knew that,” he said. “I wanted someplace I could ride my bike to work or walk.”

When he wasn’t practicing medicine, the Rices passed along their love of cross-country skiing to schoolchildren, forming what would become the Kootenai Nordic Club. Participation in that ultimately led to the Rices heading to Utah to help with the 2002 Olympic Games in Salt Lake City.

Susie Rice also became heavily involved in service work through her church and contributed to Habitat for Humanity.

“I think that’s one of the other things my wife and I both wanted, a community we could participate in,” he said. “Somewhere you could help and take somewhat of a leadership role and help the community in many ways.”

But in 1977, Rice was one of a new, younger group of doctors in town. The newcomers, who included Dr. Richard Irons and Dr. Brad Black, caused a bit of friction, he recalled.

“Medicine exploded in the ’60s and took off. Even surgery was changing,” Rice said. “There were a few conflicts with that. The fact that four of us came at the same time really helped a lot. All of us were instantly busy. I remember the first week I was here — the only week I had open appointments was the first week. After that it stayed busy all the time.”

He recalled the first patient he treated with clot busters, which at that time were developed from Streptococcus bacteria. The man, about 5-foot, 6-inches, was on the chubby side and sweating profusely. The electrocardiogram showed he was suffering from a massive heart attack.

“He looked like he wasn’t going to make it,” Rice said. “In Spokane, they were taking these guys to surgery … By the time we got to Spokane, it would have been too late.”

So Rice administered the clot buster, which typically resulted in an allergic reaction as well. His staff also was prepared to shock the man if necessary — often those patients developed an abnormal heartbeat, Rice said.

Rice, though, saw the patient’s heart rate decrease. They elevated his legs and gave him a drug to raise the pulse. Watching the man’s vital signs, Rice said described the change as “striking.”

“Within 10 minutes, maybe 15, he sits up and says, ‘I’m hungry,’” Rice recalled with a laugh. “It was like I just witnessed a miracle. Of course, that’s a pretty dramatic miracle.”

The work, though, is taxing. Rice said that he decided long ago he would retire when he could no longer keep up with his duties at the hospital. Some doctors can take a step back as they head toward retirement, he said. That isn’t his style.

“My style of practice was hands on, so you did procedures, caesarian sections, took care of sick people in the hospital. It’s pretty intense stuff, mentally,” he said. “I decided a long time ago that when I gave up doing stuff at the hospital … I would retire. I decided to do that.”

But he’s leaving his practice in the hands of what he considers one of the finest physicians he has worked with in his career: Dr. Kelli Jarrett. The two began talking while treating patients at Cabinet Peaks Medical Center. Rice recalled her expressing an interest in going into private practice.

“That’s been really rewarding, to leave a practice and not leave my patients empty handed,” he said. “When she started in Libby, she hit the ground running.”

Jarrett describes stepping into Rice’s shoes as both exciting and intimidating. He has a great reputation in town, not just among patients, but in the medical community as well, she said.

“A lot of us have seen him as a mentor,” Jarrett said. “At the time I came, he had been here longer than anyone else in the community. He definitely took on an active role in introducing me to the Libby medical system … and helping me getting my bearings.”

Like Rice, she has sought out a rural practice. Growing up, she preferred “Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman” to “ER,” Jarrett recalled with a laugh.

“The beauty of rural medicine is that you get to make a difference in a community,” she said. “Being in large cities and big hospital systems, there is a little more glamour to it. You can publish a lot more. But in a small town you have the ability to impact people's lives.”

For evidence, you need look no further than Rice, she said.

“He was not a doctor who saw his patients 9-to-5 and went home and went on vacation,” she said. “He has been very involved in the community.”

And Rice does not plan on stopping. Not being able to keep up with his extracurricular activities played a role in his retirement, he said. Rice looks forward to throwing his energy back into the cross-country ski club.

The most difficult part of the transition, Rice said, has been saying good-bye to longtime patients. Ending his career during a pandemic — Rice said he plans to continue helping his colleagues deal with the crisis where he can — has meant forgoing hugs.

“It was hard,” Rice said. “Harder than I thought it was going to be.”