A Little Name Dropping
Sun., July 13, 11:30 AM
In the wee small hours, I awaken and hear… Husband’s radio, audible throughout the house. Eventually it will put me back to sleep, even though it’s loud, and I listen to the news. Another obituary. Dr. Michael DeBakey was two months short of his one hundredth birthday. Even though he was still working, I think most people today don’t realize who he was.
Earlier in his career, he had invented several methods for improving open-heart surgery, but he became a national name with his ground-breaking developments in bypass surgery and heart-lung support. In 1971 my dad, who had been ill for some time, had reached a crisis, and his personal physician recommended bypass surgery. (The personal physician, incidentally, was Dr. Norman Jarvik, father of Dr. Robert Jarvik, who went to school with my little sister. As long as I’m dropping names.)
Bypass surgery was still rare then; no one was performing it in Connecticut. The closest hospital he might have chosen was in Cleveland, but there was a six-month wait. And that is why, shortly after my Middle Daughter was born, my parents flew to Houston, where Dr. DeBakey himself repaired dad’s heart. DeBakey may have been the chairman of the department, but he was also part of the — what would you call it? — surgical rotation. He believed that every patient deserved the best care possible, and he didn’t charge extra; his fee was just whatever one’s insurance paid. And by the way, in his opinion, dad could not have waited six months more.
Bypass surgery had remarkable results and was practiced more and more during the seventies and eighties. Just watching dad go up and down stairs seemed like a miracle. Since angioplasty, a less invasive procedure, was developed, you hear less about bypass. Husband has undergone several angioplasties since 1995; I doubt that he could have survived the stress of open-heart surgery.
Nevertheless, bypass surgery improved to the point where the recovery time is just a few days instead of three weeks plus. It does indeed add productive years to the life of the patient.
Dad passed away in 1978. I measure those seven years as the gift of a grandfather to my children, who learned to treasure the man that was my dad. For that, I have to thank Dr. DeBakey.
I should update you on Gloria. I finally talked to her yesterday. She had been in the hospital just as I thought she should be; she still sounds worse than Husband — which I didn’t think was possible. But she told me that the Filipino family next door has sort of adopted her. Not only do they provide her with dinner, but they check on her. She leaves her door open, and when the kids get home from school, they stick their heads inside and call out, “Granny, is everything okay?” It may be the closest to assisted living she will ever accept.
