Chilling new details in Gene Hackman's wife Betsy Arakawa's autopsy revealed
New details surrounding Betsy Arakawa's death have been revealed by her final autopsy results.
The 95-year-old French Connection actor and his wife, Betsy Arakawa, 65, were found dead at their home in Santa Fe, New Mexico, at the end of February.
The usual way they were discovered sparked a police investigation into their deaths.
It was later revealed that Hackman, 95, died of heart disease with advanced Alzheimer's disease listed as a significant contributory factor', while the classical pianist, 65, battled hantavirus – a rare, infectious condition – before her death.
It has now emerged that Arakawa had fluid in her chest, and the vessels supplying blood to her heart and body had mild hardening, as confirmed in an autopsy seen by AP as reported by Fox.
She died from hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, which was transmitted by rodents living around their home.
It was confirmed that she tested negative for COVID-19 and the flu. She also had normal carbon monoxide levels and tested positive for caffeine but negative for alcohol and intoxicating drugs.
This comes just a couple of days after the release of Hackman's final autopsy.
Fox reported that the final autopsy from the Office of the Medical Investigator in New Mexico, has revealed he had further health issues.
As well as a 'history of congestive heart failure' and 'severe chronic hypertensive changes, kidneys', the actor also had a 'bi-ventricular pacemaker' fitted in April 2019.
The documents noted 'neurodegenerative features consistent with Alzheimer's Disease'.
The report read: 'Autopsy showed severe atherosclerotic and hypertensive cardiovascular disease, with placement of coronary artery stents and a bypass graft, as well as a previous aortic valve replacement.
'Remote myocardial infarctions were present involving the left ventricular free wall and the septum, which were significantly large.
'Examination of the brain showed microscopic findings of advanced-stage Alzheimer's disease.'
Police say Hackman likely died on February 18, almost a week after his wife Arakawa is thought to have died on February 11.
On February 9 Arakawa took the dog, who was found deceased in the crate, to the vets for a procedure.
On February 11 Arakawa sent her last email, to her massage therapist at around 11am. In the afternoon, she took a trip to a farmer's market, CVS pharmacy and a pet food shop.
Her car was used to access the gated community after 5pm. She did not have any ongoing communication or activity in the local area after February 11.
On February 12, Arakawa made multiple calls to a health clinic for medical treatment, which she was not able to receive. She also googled health care providers – having previously searched for causes of symptoms she was experiencing.
Gene Hackman's pacemaker detected cardiac activity on February 17, and an abnormal rhythm on February 18, when activity stopped.
Their bodies were discovered on February 26, 15 days after Arakawa was thought to have died, and eight days after Hackman's pacemaker recorded its last heartbeat.
Two weeks ago, the couple was laid to rest in a private funeral with friends and family invited to the event. More Trending
Hackman's three children, Christopher, 65, Elizabeth, 62, and Leslie, 58, from his first marriage to Faye Maltese were all in attendance.
In March, TMZ obtained a copy of Hackman's will, which appeared to show that he left his entire fortune to his partner, and made her the sole beneficiary in 1995.
Although his children were not included, TMZ reported that Hackman's children will 'presumably get his share' as they are his direct living heirs.
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Scottish Sun
9 hours ago
- Scottish Sun
I'm slowly losing my brilliant Dad to dementia – but now I'm tormented by a fear his demise could've been easily avoided
Click to share on X/Twitter (Opens in new window) Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) WATCHING my dad Mick cry sitting on the bottom stair when I was 11 years old in 1990 is a memory I can recall far too easily. Confused, I asked my mum Irene what was going on. I was told he was on new antidepressants and it would take some time for him to get used to the dose. 14 Clare O'Reilly and her dad Mick on one of their many family holidays Credit: Collect 14 Clare, her mum Irene and dad Mick, and children in 2019, before he was diagnosed with dementia I knew what depression was, I'd read about it in magazines, but it was the first time I was told my beloved dad – who was just 43 at the time – had it. It's been 35 years since that memory. But every single one of those days since he's taken medication, which has chemically levelled out his poor mental health. When he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and dementia in 2020, the memory of hearing his sobbing didn't even register – until a few weeks ago. New research brought it screaming back into my mind. A study from the University of Nottingham, published last month, suggested having depression in midlife could increase the risk of Alzheimer's by as much as 56 per cent. My wonderful dad is one of about a million people in the UK living with dementia - a figure that's set to rise to 1.4million people by 2040. According to the charity Alzheimer's UK, depression is one of 14 modifiable and potentially preventable risk factors of the condition, so what if the depression I watched him live with throughout my childhood has contributed to or even caused the diagnosis which ultimately will end his life? Professor Jacob Brain, from the Institute of Mental Health and School of Medicine at the University of Nottingham who led the research, says the findings from the study need to be acted upon. 'Our study shows depression is linked to an increased risk of dementia in both midlife and late life,' he says. 'This highlights the importance of recognising and treating depression across the life course, not just for mental health, but also as part of a broader strategy to protect brain health. 'Public health efforts need to place greater emphasis on preventative brain health, including scaling up access to effective mental health care.' Five simple tests that could indicate dementia Around 2.5million people took part in the study, which concluded that feelings like my dad had in midlife – specifically in your 40s and 50s - more than doubled the risk of developing the condition. And with dementia costing the UK £42billion today, rising to £90billion by 2040, there's an urgency to treat midlife mental health to potentially reduce both the diagnosis statistics and the cost of dementia to the already struggling NHS. My dad doesn't know anything about the link between the two conditions, but it's all I can think about. While talking therapies were in their infancy back in the 90s, his midlife mental health and diagnosis could be inextricably connected. After crying on the stairs, his new dosage kicked in and he bounced back to the father I adored, who I used to make bread with and play chess with. Yet while clinical psychology has been in existence since the 1890s, it's only after his dementia diagnosis five years ago he was offered a psychologist to talk to. Until that time, his only help was a pill. It leaves me wondering whether his dementia would have occurred had his depression been treated and cured, rather than medicated for decades – and that's something I'll never have an answer to. I dread not knowing my grandchildren's names when I see them. I can't imagine the hurt they'll feel when that day comes and that's heartbreaking Mick O'Reilly Dementia is considered a terminal illness because it's degenerative and there's no cure. On average, life expectancy is between five and 10 years after diagnosis, and my amazing, funny, kind, smart and wonderful dad is halfway through that timeline. When he was diagnosed, under mum's advice, he wrote letters to both my brother Michael and I, as well as his four grandchildren, to be opened when he's not around anymore. The bomb blast of his diagnosis in our tight knit family was, and continues to be, devastating. My three children Eddie, 21, Sammy, 16, and Annie, 14, all cried on hearing the news. 14 Clare described her dad's diagnosis as a 'bomb blast' Credit: Collect 14 Clare and her family at the airport on the way to France 14 Clare's mum Irene confirmed Mick's diagnosis in 2020 14 Writing in 2020, Mick said it was hard to admit it, but he was 'terrified' Credit: Collect Watching him forget simple words like 'pasta' or struggling to recall what a sofa is called has been challenging at best and devastating at worst. His passion for poetry and art is dwindling as his confusion mounts and his thousand-yard stare becomes something we grow accustomed to. But given the fact that around 13 per cent of people over the age of 65 suffer from depression, our family can't be the only ones living with a dementia diagnosis after midlife depression, which was left treated but not cured in the 1980s and 1990s. 'It's hard to admit it, but I'm terrified' By Mick O'Reilly, written in November 2020 after being diagnosed IN my heart I knew I had something wrong with me before it was diagnosed as dementia and Alzheimer's. For the last two years when I've woken in the night I don't know where I am and it takes a few seconds, sometimes a minute or two, to remember I'm at home. Despite living here for 36 years, if I'm out with my wife, Irene, I forget what the front of the house looks like. I've grown familiar with those feelings, that uncertainty, but labelling them – while it felt like being hit with a brick – was a relief. I'd worried it was a brain tumour and while people might think I'm mad to prefer this diagnosis to a brain tumour, it's just how I feel. It's hard to admit I'm frightened but I am. I'm terrified. I've had almost 50 years of marriage with Irene and we've raised a family – while those memories will go for me, she has plenty that will last her. The same with my children Michael and Clare; we've had holidays to Barry Island, Prestatyn and Scarborough with fish and chips and pickled cockles on the beach. We've had plenty of Christmases and birthdays together. I've watched them graduate from university and have their own children, but it's my four grandchildren I'm most saddened for. I've only had six years with my youngest grandchild, Michael, and whatever memories we make together will have to last him forever and they might fade for him as he grows up. I know I won't be present when it happens but I dread not knowing their names when I see them. I can't imagine the hurt they'll feel when that day comes and that's heartbreaking. Having had epilepsy for 41 years and thousands of seizures, many of which I had no idea were coming, I'm familiar with uncertainty, with not knowing what will happen next. But I do know this diagnosis isn't going anywhere and I have to accept that. I'm reminded of it every time I watch The Chase. I used to be able to get a few questions right, now I'm very lucky if I get one. Despite staring down the barrel of an abyss though, I don't feel sorry for myself. Why would I? I'll be ignorant in bliss, it's the family I love who'll have the hardship, not me. I feel guilty they'll have to endure the hurt that comes with this diagnosis – with being forgotten – but I'm helpless to prevent it. I'm not scared either, we all have to go some time and I've had a life far richer than a lot of people. I know Clare says at my essence I'm a decent bloke and will still be that even when I'm not anchored by my history or a past or family I've forgotten, but I can't help but wonder who I'll be when I've forgotten myself. The new research brings together existing evidence, but also adds fresh analysis to examine the relationship between the two conditions in more detail. 'Our findings raise the possibility that depression late in life may not just be a risk factor, but it could also be an early warning sign of dementia beginning to develop,' says Mr Brain. 'By clarifying this timing, our work helps guide future research, treatment, and prevention strategies. 'We specifically focused on the timing of when depression was measured, whether it was measured in midlife or in later life, and calculated how much it increased the risk of developing dementia. 'This essentially allowed us to provide a more accurate and up-to-date picture of how depression at different life stages is linked to dementia risk.' 'Bitter pill to swallow' While Alzheimer's UK says depression is a risk factor that can be attributed to three per cent of dementia cases, around 13 per cent of people over the age of 65 suffer from the condition, and my dad is one of them. With the publication of the findings from the University of Nottingham, Alzheimer's UK is calling on the UK Government and NHS to set ambitious and achievable new diagnosis rate targets. Dr Richard Oakley, associate director of research and innovation at Alzheimer's Society, says even more research will help establish the correlation and relationship between the two conditions. 'The relationship between depression and dementia is a complicated topic,' he says. 'While there is a connection, the association is still unclear, and we don't fully understand the specific changes that link these two conditions. 'We know that depression is a risk factor for dementia and some research suggests treating depression may reduce the risk of developing dementia in the future. 'This is why getting the right support for depression is important.' 14 Clare with her dad Mick on her first Christmas 14 It has been 35 years since Clare discovered her dad had depression Credit: Collect 14 She now wonders if it had anything to do with his dementia diagnosis Credit: Collect 14 Mick playing a game of chess in 2011 It's too late for my dad to get the help that might have changed his diagnosis. There's a possibility he would have been diagnosed anyway but – like his antidepressants in the 1990s – it's a bitter pill to swallow. He still takes the 'happy pills' as he used to call them. And while there are glimpses of the dad who I grew up adoring, they're becoming fewer and further apart. I was too little to do anything back in 1990; his wonderful GP unaware of the link and his devoted wife – my mum – couldn't have known either. I do know there'll be an equivalent 'me' though – kids across the UK are living with parents with depression in their midlives. So for the sake of their adult selves, I hope the research findings are acted upon before another generation has to watch a parent they adore disappear in front of their eyes. 14 Mick wrote letters to this two children and four grandchildren, to be opened when he's not around anymore Credit: Collect 14 Mick and little Eddie at home in 2007 14 Mick still takes 'happy pills', as he used to call them Credit: Collect
The Sun
9 hours ago
- The Sun
I'm slowly losing my brilliant Dad to dementia – but now I'm tormented by a fear his demise could've been easily avoided
WATCHING my dad Mick cry sitting on the bottom stair when I was 11 years old in 1990 is a memory I can recall far too easily. Confused, I asked my mum Irene what was going on. I was told he was on new antidepressants and it would take some time for him to get used to the dose. 14 14 I knew what depression was, I'd read about it in magazines, but it was the first time I was told my beloved dad – who was just 43 at the time – had it. It's been 35 years since that memory. But every single one of those days since he's taken medication, which has chemically levelled out his poor mental health. When he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and dementia in 2020, the memory of hearing his sobbing didn't even register – until a few weeks ago. New research brought it screaming back into my mind. A study from the University of Nottingham, published last month, suggested having depression in midlife could increase the risk of Alzheimer's by as much as 56 per cent. My wonderful dad is one of about a million people in the UK living with dementia - a figure that's set to rise to 1.4million people by 2040. According to the charity Alzheimer's UK, depression is one of 14 modifiable and potentially preventable risk factors of the condition, so what if the depression I watched him live with throughout my childhood has contributed to or even caused the diagnosis which ultimately will end his life? Professor Jacob Brain, from the Institute of Mental Health and School of Medicine at the University of Nottingham who led the research, says the findings from the study need to be acted upon. 'Our study shows depression is linked to an increased risk of dementia in both midlife and late life,' he says. 'This highlights the importance of recognising and treating depression across the life course, not just for mental health, but also as part of a broader strategy to protect brain health. 'Public health efforts need to place greater emphasis on preventative brain health, including scaling up access to effective mental health care.' Around 2.5million people took part in the study, which concluded that feelings like my dad had in midlife – specifically in your 40s and 50s - more than doubled the risk of developing the condition. And with dementia costing the UK £42billion today, rising to £90billion by 2040, there's an urgency to treat midlife mental health to potentially reduce both the diagnosis statistics and the cost of dementia to the already struggling NHS. My dad doesn't know anything about the link between the two conditions, but it's all I can think about. While talking therapies were in their infancy back in the 90s, his midlife mental health and diagnosis could be inextricably connected. After crying on the stairs, his new dosage kicked in and he bounced back to the father I adored, who I used to make bread with and play chess with. Yet while clinical psychology has been in existence since the 1890s, it's only after his dementia diagnosis five years ago he was offered a psychologist to talk to. Until that time, his only help was a pill. It leaves me wondering whether his dementia would have occurred had his depression been treated and cured, rather than medicated for decades – and that's something I'll never have an answer to. I dread not knowing my grandchildren's names when I see them. I can't imagine the hurt they'll feel when that day comes and that's heartbreaking Mick O'ReillyDad Dementia is considered a terminal illness because it's degenerative and there's no cure. On average, life expectancy is between five and 10 years after diagnosis, and my amazing, funny, kind, smart and wonderful dad is halfway through that timeline. When he was diagnosed, under mum's advice, he wrote letters to both my brother Michael and I, as well as his four grandchildren, to be opened when he's not around anymore. The bomb blast of his diagnosis in our tight knit family was, and continues to be, devastating. My three children Eddie, 21, Sammy, 16, and Annie, 14, all cried on hearing the news. 14 14 14 14 Watching him forget simple words like 'pasta' or struggling to recall what a sofa is called has been challenging at best and devastating at worst. His passion for poetry and art is dwindling as his confusion mounts and his thousand-yard stare becomes something we grow accustomed to. But given the fact that around 13 per cent of people over the age of 65 suffer from depression, our family can't be the only ones living with a dementia diagnosis after midlife depression, which was left treated but not cured in the 1980s and 1990s. 'It's hard to admit it, but I'm terrified' By Mick O'Reilly, written in November 2020 after being diagnosed IN my heart I knew I had something wrong with me before it was diagnosed as dementia and Alzheimer's. For the last two years when I've woken in the night I don't know where I am and it takes a few seconds, sometimes a minute or two, to remember I'm at home. Despite living here for 36 years, if I'm out with my wife, Irene, I forget what the front of the house looks like. I've grown familiar with those feelings, that uncertainty, but labelling them – while it felt like being hit with a brick – was a relief. I'd worried it was a brain tumour and while people might think I'm mad to prefer this diagnosis to a brain tumour, it's just how I feel. It's hard to admit I'm frightened but I am. I'm terrified. I've had almost 50 years of marriage with Irene and we've raised a family – while those memories will go for me, she has plenty that will last her. The same with my children Michael and Clare; we've had holidays to Barry Island, Prestatyn and Scarborough with fish and chips and pickled cockles on the beach. We've had plenty of Christmases and birthdays together. I've watched them graduate from university and have their own children, but it's my four grandchildren I'm most saddened for. I've only had six years with my youngest grandchild, Michael, and whatever memories we make together will have to last him forever and they might fade for him as he grows up. I know I won't be present when it happens but I dread not knowing their names when I see them. I can't imagine the hurt they'll feel when that day comes and that's heartbreaking. Having had epilepsy for 41 years and thousands of seizures, many of which I had no idea were coming, I'm familiar with uncertainty, with not knowing what will happen next. But I do know this diagnosis isn't going anywhere and I have to accept that. I'm reminded of it every time I watch The Chase. I used to be able to get a few questions right, now I'm very lucky if I get one. Despite staring down the barrel of an abyss though, I don't feel sorry for myself. Why would I? I'll be ignorant in bliss, it's the family I love who'll have the hardship, not me. I feel guilty they'll have to endure the hurt that comes with this diagnosis – with being forgotten – but I'm helpless to prevent it. I'm not scared either, we all have to go some time and I've had a life far richer than a lot of people. I know Clare says at my essence I'm a decent bloke and will still be that even when I'm not anchored by my history or a past or family I've forgotten, but I can't help but wonder who I'll be when I've forgotten myself. The new research brings together existing evidence, but also adds fresh analysis to examine the relationship between the two conditions in more detail. 'Our findings raise the possibility that depression late in life may not just be a risk factor, but it could also be an early warning sign of dementia beginning to develop,' says Mr Brain. 'By clarifying this timing, our work helps guide future research, treatment, and prevention strategies. 'We specifically focused on the timing of when depression was measured, whether it was measured in midlife or in later life, and calculated how much it increased the risk of developing dementia. 'This essentially allowed us to provide a more accurate and up-to-date picture of how depression at different life stages is linked to dementia risk.' 'Bitter pill to swallow' While Alzheimer's UK says depression is a risk factor that can be attributed to three per cent of dementia cases, around 13 per cent of people over the age of 65 suffer from the condition, and my dad is one of them. With the publication of the findings from the University of Nottingham, Alzheimer's UK is calling on the UK Government and NHS to set ambitious and achievable new diagnosis rate targets. Dr Richard Oakley, associate director of research and innovation at Alzheimer's Society, says even more research will help establish the correlation and relationship between the two conditions. 'The relationship between depression and dementia is a complicated topic,' he says. 'While there is a connection, the association is still unclear, and we don't fully understand the specific changes that link these two conditions. 'We know that depression is a risk factor for dementia and some research suggests treating depression may reduce the risk of developing dementia in the future. 'This is why getting the right support for depression is important.' 14 14 14 It's too late for my dad to get the help that might have changed his diagnosis. There's a possibility he would have been diagnosed anyway but – like his antidepressants in the 1990s – it's a bitter pill to swallow. He still takes the 'happy pills' as he used to call them. And while there are glimpses of the dad who I grew up adoring, they're becoming fewer and further apart. I was too little to do anything back in 1990; his wonderful GP unaware of the link and his devoted wife – my mum – couldn't have known either. I do know there'll be an equivalent 'me' though – kids across the UK are living with parents with depression in their midlives. So for the sake of their adult selves, I hope the research findings are acted upon before another generation has to watch a parent they adore disappear in front of their eyes. 14 14 14 14
Metro
a day ago
- Metro
Inventor of the 'Tesla' of suicide pods 'vows to bring device to UK'
Philip Nitschke enters a 'suicide pod' known as 'Sarco' in Rotterdam, The Netherlands (Picture: AP) The inventor of the controversial 'Sarco' suicide pod has vowed to bring it to Britain, after the bill to legalise assisted dying passed its final vote. History was made yesterday in the Commons as a total of 314 MPs voted in favour of the proposal – a narrow victory that would allow adults who are terminally ill, subject to safeguards, to be assisted to end their own life. The legislation will go to the next stage of scrutiny in the House of Lords but the bill is expected to become law. Euthanasia activist Philip Nitschke said he hoped to use his Sarco suicide capsule – dubbed the 'Tesla of assisted dying' – in the UK following the vote. He received the nickname 'Dr Death' for facilitating the world's first legal assisted suicides in the 1990s. Sign up for all of the latest stories Start your day informed with Metro's News Updates newsletter or get Breaking News alerts the moment it happens. Nitschke told The Times: 'As soon as we know that the final legislation is in place we'll start enthusiastically pursuing the option of using the device in the UK. 'We will be looking to find UK-registered doctors to assist and of course someone who wants to use it and satisfies all of the requirements under the law. 'The doctors involved would know that this would attract attention and possible close scrutiny, which by and large most doctors are not enthusiastic about, so we'd have to find someone who's a little crusading.' To view this video please enable JavaScript, and consider upgrading to a web browser that supports HTML5 video Up Next Previous Page Next Page Polls have shown the UK public is broadly in favour of legalising assisted dying. Findings published by YouGov on the eve of the vote revealed almost three-quarters (73%) of people support the measures, with 16% opposed. Nitschke is behind several inventions linked to euthanasia, which remain greatly controversial despite the changing attitudes across the world. In 1995, when assisted dying was briefly legalised in Australia's Northern, he created a suicide machine named 'Deliverance' by linking up his laptop to a syringe of deadly chemicals. Nitschke's prototype 'Sarco' euthanasia pod in Venice The doctor then followed with 'the Coma machine', 'the Exit bag' and then 'Sarco', an at-home pod. The machine allows users to assist their own suicide rather than rely on an operator. The person inside pushed a button that injects nitrogen gas into the sealed chamber, causing death by suffocation. Last September, a 64-year-old American woman became the first person to take her own life inside a 'Sarco' capsule at a remote woodland retreat in Switzerland. But the use of the suicide pod was suspended shortly after as the woman was found inside with strangulation marks on her neck, and Swiss police opened an investigation into the case. What are the main measures in the assisted dying bill? Kim Leadbeater has said she deliberately named her proposal the Terminally Ill Adults (End of Life) Bill to ensure it only ever applies to people who can no longer be treated. It would apply to people in England and Wales aged over 18 who: have an untreatable, inevitably progressive illness or disease and are expected to live no longer than six months have the mental capacity to make a decision, and a clear, settled and informed wish to end their own life have not been coerced or pressured by any other person into making that decision have made two separate declarations, signed and unsigned, about their wish to die Two separate doctors would need to make assessments that the person is eligible, and applications would be reviewed by a panel including a senior legal figure, a psychiatrist and a social worker. 'Periods of reflection' – the first lasting seven days, the second lasting 14 – would be built into the process. If the person gets to the end of the process, they would then administer the fatal substance themselves. Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews@ For more stories like this, check our news page. Arrow MORE: MP leading push for assisted dying 'confident' historic vote will pass Arrow MORE: TV doctor Hilary Jones 'willing to help patients end life with assisted dying' Arrow MORE: Suicide pod activist Florian Willet takes his own life after arrest over woman's death
