Artificial Heart

Dr. Jacob Kolff, chief of cardio-thoracic surgery at Temple University Hospital, pulls open his desk drawer. Inside is a collection of what look to be miniature mustard-colored, plastic flying saucers, each with two short, hollow tubes poking out of its side. He selects one of the fist-sized objects and holds it up, snapping disk- shaped valves into and out of the openings on the protruding tubes. This is an artificial heart. Kolff is explaining why it has been fingered as the cause of the strokes that so often afflict the people in whom it is implanted.

Claude Lewis' Aug. 9 Op-ed Page article, "William Schroeder: a hero of our times," raised an interesting issue of the artificial-heart program. Mr. Lewis and I disagree substantially over our notions of the term hero. To my mind, a hero is a person who invokes inspiration in my life. A hero calls to mind high values that transcend and enrich my life. A hero provides insights into the capacity for human existence that go beyond my daily experience. For these reasons, I cannot envision Mr. Schroeder as a hero.

However shameless it is to resurrect King Kong's colossal corpse in the interest of making a box-office killing, King Kong Lives is an amusing sequel to the saga we thought was over. This movie deftly answers the riddle, "Where does a 10-ton gorilla sit?" Anywhere it wants. Unlike the original King Kong and its remake, this time around 'tis not beauty who kills the beast but beauty who saves him. She's Dr. Amy Franklin (Linda Hamilton of Terminator fame), a heart surgeon, who's keeping Kong on life-support equipment until she can find the plasma required to give the giganto primate an artificial heart.

I read with dismay the story of Irene Quinn in The Inquirer ("Widow of artificial heart recipient files suit," Oct. 17). If patients are allowed to sue for clinical trials which they consider faulty, the only possible result is less effective treatments for disease. Mrs. Quinn's assertion of "intentional assault and battery" is ridiculous. I speak from experience. I am a cancer patient at 43. While I empathize with the Quinns' former plight, it was their choice to try to extend life at all costs.

A patient at Hahnemann University Hospital has become the fifth in the world to receive a new type of totally implantable artificial heart, the hospital said yesterday. The surgery on the unidentified patient was performed Monday, marking the completion of the first phase of a clinical trial of the device produced by Abiomed Inc. of Danvers, Mass. All the patients who received the device since the first was implanted on July 2 are still alive. Surgeon Louis E. Samuels, who performed the operation, said in a statement that the mechanical heart was performing flawlessly, although the patient was having some breathing problems.

About a month ago, doctors at Hahnemann University Hospital calculated that James Quinn had a 70 percent chance of dying within 30 days. Heart surgeon Louis Samuels' gut feeling was that Quinn would be dead in a week. So it was all the more amazing that Quinn, a 51-year-old retired Philadelphia baker, walked into a news conference yesterday, 32 days after he became the fifth person in the world to receive a new type of artificial heart. Quinn was strong enough to spend more than half an hour answering questions with warmth, grace and humor.

The death of William J. Schroeder - the last survivor among five men who agreed to be permanently tethered to an experimental heart pump - has revived a number of difficult questions about the future of the artificial heart. Schroeder's 620 days on the device were plagued by a series of strokes, respiratory problems and infections. This coda to his life undoubtedly was not what Robert Jarvik, the inventor of the Jarvik-7 heart, had in mind when he declared in 1981: "If the artificial heart is ever to achieve its objective, it must be . . . reliable and dependable.

James "Butch" Quinn, the former baker and Vietnam veteran who received a new type of artificial heart at Hahnemann University Hospital almost 10 months ago, died yesterday. Quinn, of West Philadelphia, suffered a stroke Friday and became "unresponsive" that evening, according to the hospital and Drexel University College of Medicine. Alan Milstein, a Pennsauken lawyer hired by Quinn and his wife, Irene, as an adviser, said Quinn was declared brain dead on Sunday. He was removed from life support - the artificial heart was turned off - yesterday.

Ten years ago, James Quinn was a man in pain so deep he wanted to die. "I begged for it," he said. "I prayed for it. " Now he is a man who feels "reborn," so captivated by life that he is awed by a bouquet of flowers, so hungry to live that he exchanged his heart for an unproven machine. What happened in between? Quinn kicked cocaine and battled head-on with the demons he brought home from Vietnam, memories that still give him nightmares. He spent time with his five grandchildren and realized that only made him want more.

The widow of artificial-heart recipient James Quinn yesterday sued the maker of the device, the hospital where it was implanted, and the patient advocate who helped Quinn decide to have the surgery. The suit contends the informed-consent process was flawed and alleges fraud, negligence, and "intentional assault and battery. " Quinn, who was 51 when he received the heart Nov. 5, came to regret his decision after an initially remarkable recovery was followed by months in the hospital.

Repo Men, a cyber-noir with a blunt satiric edge, blunter surgical instruments, and stomach-churning surgical procedures, imagines a future where consumers buy human organs on the installment plan. What happens if, say, you are 90 days late on a payment? As our hero, Remy (Jude Law), explains it: "Can't pay for your house? The bank takes it. Can't pay for your car? The bank takes it. Can't pay for your liver? Well, that's where I come in. " Armed with stun gun and scalpel, Remy can jack a human organ quicker than a robber can your car radio.

Looking back, Gary Onufer realizes he had symptoms. The 46-year-old insurance agent was constantly exhausted. His wife, Joan, noticed that he was losing weight. He was skipping more of his daily workouts. Even so, in the Ambler couple's wildest nightmares they could not have imagined that between Thanksgiving and the start of the New Year, his heart would steadily, inexplicably, almost completely fail, leaving him in dire need of a new one. It would be insensitive to call someone who has been through Onufer's harrowing ordeal lucky.

The widow of the artificial-heart recipient who died last year in Philadelphia has reached a settlement in a lawsuit she filed against the maker of the device, the hospital where it was implanted, and the patient advocate who helped her and her husband, James Quinn, decide to have the surgery. The lawsuit argued that the informed-consent process used in the clinical trial was flawed, and it alleged fraud, negligence, and "patient advocate malpractice. " A petition filed this week in Philadelphia Common Pleas Court by Irene Quinn's lawyer, Alan Milstein, said she had agreed to a settlement of $125,000 from all of the defendants.

Lawyers for a defendant in a lawsuit filed by the widow of the man who received an artificial heart have withdrawn their request for documents compiled by a medical anthropologist who was studying the case. The anthropologist, Sheldon Zink, who is also director of transplant policy and ethics at the University of Pennsylvania's Center for Bioethics, was fighting the subpoenas, arguing that providing the information would violate her professional code of ethics and make it more difficult for researchers to conduct future studies.

Sheldon Zink, a medical anthropologist at the University of Pennsylvania, spent more than 18 months observing an artificial heart experiment at Hahnemann University Hospital. For the last two months of patient James Quinn's life, she switched roles and became his advocate at the hospital. Now that Quinn has died and his widow has sued the hospital, the maker of the mechanical heart, and Quinn's original advocate, Zink is in the uncomfortable position of being a coveted witness.

I read with dismay the story of Irene Quinn in The Inquirer ("Widow of artificial heart recipient files suit," Oct. 17). If patients are allowed to sue for clinical trials which they consider faulty, the only possible result is less effective treatments for disease. Mrs. Quinn's assertion of "intentional assault and battery" is ridiculous. I speak from experience. I am a cancer patient at 43. While I empathize with the Quinns' former plight, it was their choice to try to extend life at all costs.

Research is research - not treatment I am bewildered by the logic of the statement by Drexel University College of Medicine that if physicians are being sued the way they now are, health-care organizations will find it difficult to participate in "cutting-edge care to critically ill patients like Mr. Quinn," ("Widow of artificial heart recipient files suit," Oct. 17). This statement is flawed and misleading. It is flawed because it assumes that James Quinn was being treated for his heart condition.

The widow of artificial-heart recipient James Quinn yesterday sued the maker of the device, the hospital where it was implanted, and the patient advocate who helped Quinn decide to have the surgery. The suit contends the informed-consent process was flawed and alleges fraud, negligence, and "intentional assault and battery. " Quinn, who was 51 when he received the heart Nov. 5, came to regret his decision after an initially remarkable recovery was followed by months in the hospital.

Last December, James "Butch" Quinn walked into a Philadelphia news conference, a thankful, smiling testament to the wonders of technology. Just 32 days after his diseased heart had been replaced by a machine, he talked of the beauty he saw in the simplest things, of his deep gratitude to his doctors and to God, of new and blessed hope. He talked about something else, too, something that would become an obsession as he and his doctors struggled to make man and machine work together.