Portal de Periódicos da CAPES

Michael E. DeBakey, M.D., 1908 to 2008

2008; Lippincott Williams & Wilkins; Volume: 122; Issue: 6 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1097/prs.0b013e31818d2157

1529-4242

Rod J. Rohrich,

History of Medical Practice

Making people feel better is the highest calling of all. —Michael Ellis DeBakey, M.D.1 September 7, 1908, to July 11, 2008 When I first heard the news that Dr. DeBakey, the father of modern heart surgery and a larger-than-life “living legend,” had died, I was at a loss. I remembered as if it were yesterday being held in awe by DeBakey’s lectures on cardiovascular surgery at Baylor College of Medicine while I was a medical student; Dr. DeBakey, of course, wearing his ever-present monogrammed scrubs. And it seemed like just a few moments ago that I walked across the stage and Dr. DeBakey handed me my diploma and shook my hand. Even though that was over two decades ago—and though I went on to a different field of surgery—Dr. DeBakey left an indelible mark on my life and career that will not be diminished by time. I could not help but be overwhelmed with sadness at his passing but simultaneously in awe of the enduring impact he has made on the world for generations to come during the 99 years of his life. Dr. DeBakey changed all of medicine and surgery forever. This is why we must remember him for what he was and what he did. He was a selfless, caring physician; a true innovator; a role model for all of medicine to emulate. Michael E. DeBakey, M.D., earned countless awards, including the Legion of Merit Award for his wartime accomplishments (1945); America’s highest civilian decoration, the Medal of Honor with Distinction (1969); and our nation’s highest scientific honor, the National Medal of Science (1989).2 He was called by many names: Professor, Doctor, Colonel, and Chancellor; inventor, author, innovator, and pioneer; “Taskmaster,” “Perfectionist,” and “The Texas Tornado,” a nickname that Time Magazine said he won for his “incredible drive for perfection, the unending concern for his patients, [and] the utter domination of his life by his profession.”3 However, something tells me that Dr. DeBakey took all of that in stride. After all, when describing why the dignitaries, foreign leaders, and celebrities he treated did not get any different treatment from regular patients, he said, “once you incise the skin, you find that [people] are all very similar.”4 And it was with that unerring universality that Dr. DeBakey created his legacy: he pursued his dreams and innovations not for his own fame but for the good of the men and women around him. You may find it interesting that Dr. DeBakey did not solely credit his pharmacist father and his childhood experiences in the pharmacy as motivation for a career in medicine. DeBakey said that his mother also provided the impetus and means with childhood sewing lessons that molded his young hands into dexterous, precise instruments.1 The sewing lessons may have provided young Dr. DeBakey with the skills—it is no coincidence that in 1954 DeBakey made the first Dacron graft on his wife’s Singer sewing machine5—but DeBakey said it was his mother’s philosophy on life that inspired him to become a doctor. In a 2004 Time Magazine article, DeBakey recalled his mother’s compassion: Every Sunday she and my father would load our car with extra clothing and homemade meals for the children at the local orphanage. One week I protested when my mother wanted to give away my favorite cap. She reminded me that I would get a new one the very next day but that orphans had no parents to buy them caps. Then she added something I have never forgotten: “There’s nothing that can warm your heart more than making someone else feel better.”1 DeBakey said that those words played a large part in his choice of career: a career replete with countless milestones, achievements, and innovations that not only benefited everyone in the world of surgery but provided higher quality of medical care for everyone in the world. DeBakey often said “man was made to work, and work hard. I do not think it ever hurt anyone.”3 I personally have attempted to emulate this in my life as well. DeBakey’s tireless work effort led to a lifetime of achievements. While still a medical student at Tulane University in 1932, DeBakey created his first invention: the roller pump, which became a major component of the heart-lung machine and later went on to make open-heart surgery a reality.4 His work as the appointed director of the Surgical Consultants’ Division in World War II led to the creation of the mobile army surgical hospitals, more commonly known today as “MASH units.” He also helped organize the systems that we now know as the Veterans Administration Medical Center System and the Veterans Administration Medical Research Program.2 In 1948, he was named chair of the Department of Surgery at Baylor University College of Medicine, the fledgling institution that had just moved from Dallas to Houston’s Methodist Hospital after wartime financial troubles. “More than any other physician, DeBakey was crucial to the growth of The Methodist Hospital in the Texas Medical Center.”6 His leadership was instrumental in transforming Baylor College of Medicine into one of the world’s finest medical institutions. He remained at Baylor for the rest of his life; in his six-decade tenure, he continued to innovate and to break new ground: in 1950, he performed the first removal of a carotid artery blockage; in 1964, he performed the first aortocoronary bypass surgery; in 1966, he became the first surgeon to use a ventricular assist device to pump blood and support an ailing heart6; and he performed some of the nation’s first heart transplants in the late 1960s. He created over 70 surgical instruments4 while on the path to developing artificial hearts and heart pumps. People even say that he made “aneurysm” a household word and, in part because of his efforts, the idea of an “artificial heart” moved out of the realm of science fiction and into reality.3 Succinctly put, “the surgical procedures that DeBakey developed once were the wonders of the medical world. Today, they are commonplace procedures in most hospitals.”4 Dr. DeBakey had that great Texas spirit of “the impossible just takes a little longer,” but he was not the type to stand idly by; he knew when to push the envelope for the greater good: “We cannot stand by and wait for final answers. …. There are lives to be saved today, and future illnesses to be prevented.”3 He refuted widespread criticism, pursuing the invention of the artificial heart when many of his conservative colleagues told him it was the stuff of fantasy. In the mid 1960s, less than a decade after the American Medical Association awarded DeBakey with its Distinguished Service Award, he took the institution to task with a report asserting that there was a large difference between the quality of care available at major medical centers and that provided at rural hospitals. DeBakey and the commission he headed pushed for the American Medical Association to establish intensive care centers for strokes, cancer, and heart disease, and community centers for diagnosis and emergency care.3 Dr. DeBakey knew when to fight, when to learn, when to teach, and when to act. In my opinion, he was (and will forever be) the perfect mix of maverick, innovator, scientist, Samaritan, and statesman—a “symbol of hope and encouragement, a true American pioneer.”6 With more than 1300 published medical articles, chapters, and books written; more than 60,000 cardiovascular procedures performed; and thousands of surgeons trained,7 Dr. DeBakey was truly one of the giants of modern medicine. I fully echo the words of Dr. DeBakey’s longtime partner Dr. George Noon: “Dr. DeBakey singlehandedly raised the standard of medical care, teaching, and research around the world. He was the greatest surgeon of the 20th century, and physicians everywhere are indebted to him for his contributions to medicine.”8 He will be sorely missed by all of us in medicine and in surgery, and his accomplishments and innovations have earned their places in history. Above all, if we, as doctors, can simply recall the message that Dr. DeBakey learned from his mother at such a young age and let it guide our practices as well, then Dr. DeBakey’s legacy and heart will live forever: “Making people feel better is the highest calling of all.”Figure: Michael E. DeBakey, M.D., 1908 to 2008 (photograph from the 1960s; courtesy of The Methodist Hospital, Houston, Texas).