Gifts of the Heart

This weekend was the centennial celebration of Loma Linda University. For one hundred years, our medical school has been an active and vital part of this community. We were encouraged by Ellen White, one of our church founders, to establish a medical school where medical missionaries could be trained to bring Christ to those whose bodies and souls are broken. Another of our church founders stated that trying to build a medical school here would be like building a bridge to the moon.

Well, we did. And now our university has 109 programs and over 4,000 students from most countries in the world. We have graduated almost 1,000 physicians and almost 10% have served in mission settings outside of the U.S.
It was a wildly exhuberant celebration this weekend. Lee Stroebel, author of The Case for Christ, was the featured speaker on Friday evening. He packed a real punch with his message. We also heard from the King's Brass, who just about lifted us out of our seats with their superb music.

Saturday morning, we met a woman (Gwen) who had open heart surgery as a youngster in Vietnam. It was our International Heart Team who operated on her. On the day that they left, they took a photo of the whole group of patients. But after they took two pictures they realized that Gwen wasn't there. One of the medical students ran upstairs into the hospital and picked her up to bring her downstairs. She fought and gave him trouble--she didn't want her picture taken. But he carried her downstairs, stood her on the back row of patients, and took a third picture. She was grinning from ear to ear.

Fast forward to this year. She had immigrated to Canada and married a Frenchman. She always wanted to find the doctors who operated on her, so she put her young son on an internet search to find out what medical school in California had an International Heart Team. When he located Loma Linda University's International Heart Team, she began to remember the doctors: the young student who fought with her and carried her down to get her picture taken; the Japanese anesthesiologist who was so nice to her; the surgeon who did a superb job operating on her; the Australian nurse who kept the OR and Recovery Room in order; the heavyset woman cardiologist who looked after her when she had recovered somewhat. Of course, there was the young American medical student with the long hair who was "so good looking" and she really wondered what happened to him.

An email from Gwen ended up on the desk of the Dean of the medical school. He emailed Gwen right away, sending her the only picture that he could find of the entire group. She was thrilled to get it and quickly identified herself on the back row of the photo. Little did she know that of the three photos that he found, this was the only one she had been in. And the dean was the long haired medical student on the side of the group.

Soon thereafter, the dean and the cardiac surgeon made a trip up to Canada to meet Gwen and her family. We were shown a touching video of their meeting. She treated them each to a haircut in her salon. They were delighted, even the 97-year old cardiac surgeon.

After the video story, the emcee introduced Gwen and she ran up onto the platform to stand next to the cardiologist, the cardiac surgeon, and the dean of the medical school. After she was interviewed, she was reunited with the other members of the team. It was such a wonderful story. There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Saturday afternoon, the mother of little Baby Fae, was finally made her identity public after 25 years of the historic interspecies transplant of a baboon heart into her baby. The mother's name is Theresa and the baby's name was Stephanie Fae. She told her story of hope and desperation in an interview with Dr. Leonard Bailey. She just wanted to keep her baby alive--she really wasn't trying to do something brave or newsworthy. But as she said tearfully, she just hoped it wasn't for nothing. (Baby Fae died 21 days after her surgery).

Amazingly, 467 infants and young children have since had heart transplants in our medical center. Over 100 transplanted children were in the audience and were called up onto the platform at the end of Theresa's story. Dr. Bailey put his arm around her and faced the crowded steps. I imagine that he was whispering to her, "See what good has come from your loss?" It was an incredibly inspiring moment.

What was of particular interest to me, was that a former fiance was one of the surgery residents who played a figural part in Baby Fae's landmark surgery. He was named and interviewed briefly as part of the program yesterday (on video). I remember him telling me, 25 years ago, how delighted he was that he had met Dr. Bailey's wife and that she was "just a nurse!" Just a nurse. He lived in fear that someone or something would sabotage his professional prospects--and me, "just a nurse," was such a something. He had a conversation with Dr. Bailey one day while they were making rounds. Dr. Bailey asked him if he was married and he said no, he was engaged. He added that he had some questions about me. Dr. Bailey wisely counseled him to hold off getting married until after his residency, since there was no hurry, and since in a few years he would have a better idea of whether or not I was the one.

Mr. surgery resident broke off with me three days before the Baby Fae surgery. I was devastated and terribly hurt by Dr. Bailey's encouragement for him to not to marry me. But it have been more and more clear over the years, what wise counsel it was.

It was a wonderful centennial celebration. I feel blessed anew to be part of the university and medical setting where the values of scientific excellence and altruism are central virtues. And looking back, I am grateful for the skills of Dr. Bailey, who has transplanted so many hearts and saved mine in the doing.