Key Pages
- |Changes [Feb 26, 2009]
The camera
" 'I'm sure that given the chance, Barney would do the same thing over again' " (Cauwels 183).
-Una Loy, Barney’s wife & a worker for the American Heart Association
"Although Barney was by no means a martyr, his main purpose was to contribute to medical science by helping develop a therapy that was too late for him" (Cauwels 184).
"This came from the understanding that people want a normal life and just being alive is not good enough." - Dr. Robert Jarvik
It came out of nowhere… but then again, it always does. I remember I was contemplating what would happen to me tomorrow morning, I was trying to forgive myself for what I had agreed to do. I was hoping Una and Scott would bear the news well, and I was hoping that God would take pity on me and end it right there.
At that point, I started to feel that familiar biting pain in my chest. I felt like my life was being sucked out of me. It was so hard to breathe, and I could feel my heart protesting inside of me. Three nurses, Una, and Dr. Devries came in.
I knew that if they didn’t do the surgery then, I was likely to give out right in front of them. So I did the selfish thing. ‘Why don’t we get this over with?’ I murmured to Una.
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“Dr. Devries decided to do just that and readied himself for his third operation of the day and the most significant of his career.
“As a gentle snow began to fall outside, Clark was wheeled into a specially equipped surgical suite…working quietly and steadily to the hushed strains of Ravel’s Bolero, DeVries made a 9.5-in incision…” (1).
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It was seven and a half hours. They told me my heart tissue was as weak as tissue paper. I can’t believe I’m alive.
“For the first time in history, surgeons early today implanted a permanent artificial heart to replace a dying human heart" (2).
“The operation was described as a dazzling technical achievement" (2).
“Dr. Chase N. Peterson, vice president of health affairs… described Dr. Clark and the surgical team as ‘on the threshold of something that is as exciting and thrilling as has ever been accomplished in medicine" (2).
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I have a new heart.
I can hear it clicking now.
They have a tube in throat. They told me it was breathing for me, but now I can’t drink water, I can’t talk, I can only watch everyone else watch me.
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“This man is no different than Columbus. He is striking out for new territory” (2).
“He has gone from a man who was blue from not enough oxygen before the surgery to being pink now” (3).
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They tell me I’m doing better. I don’t feel the biting pain anymore, but I still feel an odd sensation whenever I move and feel the two six-foot tubes that are tethering me to this hospital bed.
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“ Dr. Clark, Dr. DeVries said, ‘is not an animal; he is a human and very special to us” (3).
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They are watching me every moment, tracking my heartbeats, my breaths, and my bowel movements. I have been in this hospital for so long I can't remember what the sun feels like, what clear air smells like, or what an ice cream cone tastes like.
This is what it’s like to be alive.
“When he awoke this morning, with the sun rising over the snow-capped Wasatch Mountains and striking the window shades of his hospital room, he said, ‘It’s beautiful. I feel good" (4).
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I really wanted it to work. Everyone seemed so excited for me, they told me how great I was doing, and I was really feeling better.
And then they told me I was swollen, that my lungs were leaking air. I can’t seem to escape it- why is this happening to me? Just when I think I might possibly be able to wrap my head around this idea of Dr. Jarvik’s heart inside of me, another part of my body gives out. Typical. Before I knew it, I was being rolled into the operating room once again.
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“The artificial heart performed admirably all through this time. It never missed a beat or changed his blood pressure” (4).
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They tell me it wasn’t the heart, that it was bound to happen anyways. But what else could it be? If it wasn’t for this heart, I wouldn’t be here, and if I weren’t here, I wouldn’t be having this complication. They’ve made me out to be a hero, but I just wanted to live a little longer. I think this might only be the beginning of many battles… it seems Dr. Jarvik’s heart is the only part of my body that wants me to live.
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“Doctors are prepared to say that he has accepted the artificial heart very well” (4).
“Dr. Barney B. Clark, the recipient of the world’s first permanent artificial heart, suffered several seizures today while he was talking with doctors” (5).
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I… can’t stop shaking. I feel like some cruel puppeteer has taken control of my body, jerking me around for amusement. It’s a sick joke. I can still feel them watching me, scribbling on their clipboards and trying to figure me out like I’m a little puzzle.
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“ ‘He will come out of it as if it were only a bad dream,’ Dr. Peterson said” (5).
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They’re trying to talk to me, to tell me it’s nothing, that I am already improving. But they’re feeding me through a tube that is shoved into my nostril and down my throat. They’re hiring physical therapists to come and move my limbs so that my muscles don’t waste away. They’re acting out every part of my life for me, so I don’t have anything left to do but count the tiles on the ceiling of my room once again.
“Surgeons replaced the entire left side of Barney B. Clark’s artificial heart today after it began to fail” (6).
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Here we go again. Back into the operating room. They’ve always told me it has been beautifully faithful, never missing a beat. They’ve never blamed it for any of the problems that I’ve had, but now there’s no way around it. Dr. Jarvik’s heart is leaking inside of me. Why have so many people have rested so much hope in me, so much money and time and effort, when my body seems to be so tired? I feel the whole nation is watching me- reporters come in every day and watch me talk to Una and drool in my sleep. The future of Dr. Jarvik’s heart seems to rest in me, but my body seems to be ignorant of it all.
I got tired of counting the tiles on the ceiling today. Forty-eight in all, six across and eight deep. I wanted to do something, but what was there to do? Television had lost its appeal long ago, especially when I would see my pale face on the screen next to Dr. Jarvik’s young smiling one.
I wanted to get out my bed, so I called the nurse and told her I was going for a walk. She helped me sit up, making sure that the tubes coming out of my body didn’t get tangled.
When I finally felt my weight rest completely on my own two legs, it was such an exhilarating feeling. I felt… independent. I ignored the soft clicking from within my chest, the beep of heart monitor, and the tubes that came out each side of me. I ignored my hospital gown and my unkempt hair, and I imagined myself golfing in the Seattle Country Club, where the only sound I could hear was the whish of my golf club through the air and the soft click upon contact with the ball.
I moved my feet hesitatingly, one after another, imagining the cool wind ruffle my hair lightly.
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“Dr. Barney B. Clark took a few short, shuffling but encouraging steps today in his struggle as the first human to live with a permanent artificial heart” (7).
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At that moment my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto a nearby chair that the nurse had thankfully pulled up. The reality of my situation hit me once again, and I knew that I would never hold a golf club in my hand again. I gave a feeble smile to the nurse, who seemed absolutely thrilled that I had managed to travel a whole foot all by myself.
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“What we have seen… is what we should phrase as a return to normalcy” (7).
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Everyone seemed to be so excited be the fact that I had attempted to walk- they brought in the journalists and the cameras from down the hall, and I did my little shuffle time and time again until they were satisfied. It was nice to see that this made them happy.
“Dr. Barney B. Clark’s condition has improved to the point where he might leave the hospital as early as three weeks from now” (8).
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They tell me I might be able to actually leave this hospital. I’ve only left this intensive care once to see a radiologist, and they’re telling me I can leave this hospital. I’m not quite sure what to think. When they first told me about implanting Dr. Jarvik’s heart, I didn’t even think I was going to make it past the initial operation. And now they’re telling me I can leave the hospital.
I suppose I should be happy- after all, Dr. Jarvik’s heart is working well. But I’m not quite sure I’m ready to even walk outside this hospital. There are journalists and reporters constantly in my room, and I think it would be a little difficult to be incognito sitting in a wheelchair attached to a 375-lb power supply on wheels. For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of getting outside of this hospital. But now that it just might be possible, I’m scared out of my mind.
“Dr. Barney B. Clark… was taken back into surgery late today, and two arteries in his left nasal passage that had been bleeding for 10 days were successfully sealed” (9).
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Perhaps I was meant to stay here after all. It was a horrible experience, with blood pouring out my nose at nearly every instant. I couldn’t sleep, and I became sick from the taste of my own blood in my throat. They tell me it was because of the drugs they gave me to thin my blood. I think it was because I wanted to stay. I hope they’re not disappointed in me.
I turn 62 today. It will probably be my last birthday. Una brought me a birthday cake today which looked ridiculously delicious. A pity the feeding tube in my nose prevents me from having any.
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President Reagan sent me a telegram that said, “‘Nancy and I send our heart-felt congratulations’” (10).
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Since when did the President of the United States start sending me telegrams? I know that I’ve been in the newspapers and such, but it’s still strange to think about being buddy-buddy with the President simply because I have Dr. Jarvik’s heart inside of me. I never imagined that my 62nd birthday would be anything like this- within the sterile walls of my ICU, with countless tubes regulating the traffic in and out of my body, reading telegrams from the President.
There was a big interview today with Dr. DeVries about Dr. Jarvik’s heart. They asked me to comment about whether it’s been hard to deal with so far.
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“Yes, it has been hard, but the heart itself has pumped right all along and I think it is doing well. All in all, it has been a pleasure to be able to help people” (11).
http://www.historychannel.com/broadband/clipview/index.jsp?id=speech_53
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What else could I say? Dr. Jarvik has worked so hard on this heart, and Dr. DeVries has been so kind to me. I knew it would make them happy if I appeared as strong and optimistic as possible.
I was fighting my breath during the interview, and I had to pause several times to catch my breath. But I posed for the cameras with the best smile I could muster, supporting my weight with a walker. I hope that they’re happy with what I said in the interview, and I hope I live long enough to let them learn about Dr. Jarvik’s heart.
I’m getting tired. I feel feverish all over, and they tell me that my heart is not pumping properly. I have a feeling that my body has finally given up.
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“He is being sedated and is under no distress” (12).
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All the talking and beeping is getting fainter and fainter. I know Una is by my side, as is Dr. DeVries, but I can’t seem to will my body to fight any longer. I have cheated death for 112 days, and now I think my body will finally find some genuine rest. The idea of my death has loomed over me for so long that I have already come to terms with it.
At first I wanted to resist it because I was scared- who knows what lies beyond this life? I wanted to remain alive, however feebly, however dependent I would be on machines. At one point, though, I realized that all the needles, the tubes, the drugs, and the surgeries, were ultimately worth it, but not because they kept me alive. They were worth it because they kept hope alive. It was astonishing to see the faces of so many people light up even after a simple thumbs-up sign.
But nobody expected me to live forever, and I think that this is the best I can do. I just hope now that God can forgive me.
“Dr. Barney B. Clark, the recipient of the world’s first permanent artificial heart, died last night… 112 days after the plastic and aluminum device was implanted in his chest” (12).
“He was an incredible man, one of the strongest men I have ever known… He did a service to mankind and the knowledge that we will gain from him will serve us all” (12).
"He taught us that the artificial heart does not hurt, that its noise is manageable, Most of all, he taught us that it did not destroy his spirit and his ability to love" Willem Kolff, speaking at Barney Clark's funeral
A video from the history channel summing up describing Barney Clark and the Jarvik-7:
http://www.historychannel.com/broadband/clipview/index.jsp?id=tdih_0323
2) Altman, Lawrence K. “Dentist, Close to Death, Receives First Permanent Artificial Heart” New York Times 03 December 1982: A1.
3) Altman, Lawrence K. “Artificial Heart Turning Patient Sharply Better” New York Times 04 December 1982: A1.
4) Altman, Larence K. “Heart Patient Undergoes Surgery to Correct Air Leak Complication” New York Times 05 December 1982: A1.
5) Altman, Lawrence K. “Recipient of Heart Suffers Seizures But Physicians Rule Out a Stroke” New York Times 08 December 1982: A1.
6) Altman, Lawrence K. “Left Side of Patient’s Artificial Heart Replaced” New York Times 15 December 1982: A1.
7) Altman, Lawrence K. “Heart Patient Takes First Few Short Steps Nearer to Normality” New York Times 22 December 1982: A1.
8) Altman, Lawrence K. “Doctors Hopeful on Releasing Heart Patient” New York Times 12 January 1983: A1.
9) “Heart Recipient Gets Surgery” New York Times 19 January 1983: A14.
10) “Heart Patient Celebrates his 62d Birthday” New York Times 22 January 1983: A6.
11) Altman, Lawrence K. “Recipient of Artificial Heart Calls the Ordeal Worthwhile” New York Times 03 March 1983: A1.
12) Altman, Lawrence K. “Barney Clark Dies on 112th Day With Permanent Artificial Heart” New York Times 24 March 1983: A1.
