Brian Klepper
Calling Things By Their True Names
 
 
 
One of the most fascinating and moving experiences at the Aspen Health Forum – Given the quality of the content there, this is saying something. The audience was rapt – was a talk by Neen Hunt, Executive Director of the Lasker Foundation. Each year this organization bestows a hugely prestigious prize to individuals who have made significant contributions to scientific medicine, clinical medicine and public service.
 
Dr. Hunt’s talk focused on combating the geeky stereotypes that often are associated with people with dedicated passions, and on conveying their broader humanity. Her vehicle was a character portrait of Dr. Charles D. Kelman, an ophthalmologist practicing in Manhattan during the latter half of the 1900s, who in an incredibly bold stroke, blew past convention, inciting the wrath of those tied to the established order, and revolutionized the way that cataract surgeries are performed.
 
Much of Dr. Hunt’s speech was borrowed, with permission, “almost verbatim” from an account of Dr. Kelman written and presented by Dr. Joseph Goldstein, Chairman of the Lasker Awards Jury, at the 2005 Albert Lasker Medical Research Awards Program in New York City.
 
After the Aspen Health Forum, I asked Dr. Hunt whether I might obtain a copy of her talk. She graciously agreed, with the stipulation that I acknowledge that most of these words are really Dr. Goldstein’s. I am delighted to do so.
 
This presentation had a special, personal meaning for me. When I was 15 in 1967, my father, a strapping, utterly engaged man, had the old-fashioned, draconian cataract removal procedure that Dr. Kelman’s innovation replaced. I vividly remember gasping, seeing him so diminished immediately post-surgery, eyes patched, head sandbagged, wrists restrained. For the remainder of his life he wore the Coke-bottle glasses Dr. Goldstein describes (and later, hard contact lenses that, while still miserable, were an improvement). I couldn’t know it at the time, but this experience provided a frame of reference that allowed me to appreciate all medical achievements, Dr. Kelman's included, that relieve impairment and suffering, and that dramatically improve the quality of lives.
 
Now read this wonderful excerpt from Dr. Goldstein’s account of Dr. Kelman’s contribution, relayed nearly perfectly intact through Dr. Hunt’s warm, passionate delivery.
 
Cataracts are the major cause of reversible blindness throughout the world, affecting about 20 million people. About half of us here today will suffer from impaired vision because of cataracts. There are no drugs, no eye drops, and no diet that will make a cataract disappear; the only treatment is surgical removal. Historically, cataract surgery is one of the oldest operations, second only to circumcision.
 
Prior to 1970, cataracts were the leading cause of blindness in the United States. Today, cataracts no longer have this distinction - thanks to the pioneering and daring achievement of Charles D. Kelman. As recently as 20 years ago, cataract surgery was a major ordeal, requiring a hospital stay of 10 days and a post-hospital convalescence of several months. In a typical operation, the patient underwent general anesthesia, after which a large semicircular incision of 180-degrees was made in the cornea to allow the entire lens to be grasped with a forceps and pulled from the eye in one piece. The incision was closed with 8 or 9 sutures, and the patient was kept at absolute bed rest for 3 to 5 days with both eyes covered with patches. To prevent the patient from moving his or her head, sandbags were placed along both sides of the head, and both wrists were bound with restraints to the bed. This enforced immobilization often led to mental disorientation, prostatic obstruction, bedsores, and blood clots to the lung. As many as 20% of patients developed eye infections, bleeding, macular edema, and retinal detachment. After discharge from the hospital, the eyes and lids remained red, swollen, and irritated for as long as 6 weeks. The operated eye had to be patched for several months, and the patient had to wait for six months to be fitted with ultra thick, unattractive glasses that rarely restored vision to normal.
 
In 1967, while Charles Kelman was a practicing ophthalmologist at the Manhattan Eye, Ear, and Throat Hospital in New York City, he invented a totally new and incredible procedure for removing cataracts, which he called phacoemulsification (phako being Greek for lens; emulsi being Greek for milk out). In its currently practiced form, phacoemulsification involves making a small incision in the cornea (only 3-degrees rather than the traditional 180-degrees), after which a tiny ultrasonic probe is inserted through the incision. The vibrations of the probe break and liquefy the cataractous lens without damaging the surrounding tissues. The emulsified fragments of the lens are then suctioned through the sonic tip, and a foldable intraocular lens is inserted through the small incision. Once inside the eye, the flexible lens unfolds like a parachute, and vision is restored to 20/20 or 20/40. There is no longer a need for the thick spectacle glasses of the pre-Kelman era.
 
The entire procedure, which can be done in 5-10 minutes, is performed on an outpatient basis under topical anesthesia. Because the eyelids are not anesthetized, no eye patch is required, and recovery is almost immediate. Many patients go in for their cataract extraction in the morning and return to work in the afternoon.
 
The genius of Charles Kelman was to recognize the need for a rapid and painless way to remove cataracts; and his discovery transformed the operating habits of ophthalmologists. The idea for phacoemulsification came to Kelman in 1964 while sitting in his dentist’s chair and having his teeth cleaned. As Kelman writes in his memoir, “As I sat in his chair, he reached over, took a long silver instrument out of its cradle and turned it on. A fine mist came off the tip but the tip didn’t seem to be moving. He applied the tip to my teeth, and I felt an exquisite vibration and heard a high-pitched sound.” Kelman asked, “What is that thing?” The dentist replied, “An ultrasonic probe.” “I knew this was the moment,” Kelman wrote.
 
This moment must surely be the only moment in history in which a jolt from a dental drill produced a bolt from the blue. Kelman’s epiphanous moment was followed by several years of intensive research on the eyes of cats and human cadavers before phacoemulsification was first applied to a patient in 1967. By 1969, Kelman had used his procedure to remove cataracts in 12 patients. Between 1967 and 1973, 3500 cataract removals were done by phacoemulsification, 500 of them by Kelman.
 
It is instructive to note that the vast majority of ophthalmologists viewed phacoemulsification as a radical procedure that totally challenged their conventional wisdom. They were shocked by Kelman’s audacity to discharge his patients on the same day of surgery and permit them to return to full activity on the first or second postoperative day. For many years, Kelman, the practicing eye surgeon without proper academic credentials, was treated with overt hostility by the established academic surgical community.
 
Largely owing to Kelman’s ingenuity, dedication, perseverance and inspiration, phacoemulsification has become not only the most common, but also the most successful, surgical procedure in history. Last year 3 million Kelman-type cataract operations were performed in the U.S. and 6 million worldwide. Kelman’s vision extended beyond the eye. Phacoemulsification was the first minimally invasive surgical technique, and it stimulated the development of other “keyhole” surgeries, such as fiber optic removal of the gall bladder, lumpectomy of the breast, and repair of vertebral discs.
 
Kelman’s legendary contributions to the field of ophthalmology have been widely recognized. In 1992 he was awarded the National Medal of Technology by President George H. Bush. In 1994, his peers named him “Ophthalmologist of the Century,” He was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame whose elite members include the likes of Alexander Graham Bell, Orville Wright, Henry Ford, and Enrico Fermi.”
 
Goldstein’s portrait of Charlie Kelman reveals that Kelman wasn’t a geek or a weirdo- all too often the stereotype of brilliant scientists. According to Goldstein, “He was the ultimate extrovert and the quintessential bon viveur. He flew his own helicopter, jetting from hospital roof to hospital roof all over Manhattan and Long Island. He also traveled the world, saving the eyesight of hundreds of famous people – from Hedy Lamar to Golda Meir. He was beloved by people who had the privilege of knowing him—grateful patients, artists, medical practitioners, media personalities and his family. Kelman was an accomplished saxophonist who played with jazz stars like Lionel Hampton and Dizzy Gillespie. He once rented Carnegie Hall to give his own concert. He produced several Broadway plays, entertained in clubs as a stand-up comedian, and was a frequent guest on the Tonight Show, Merv Griffin show, Barbara Walters Show, David Letterman Show, and the mother of all shows – the Oprah Winfrey show.
 
Although today we take outpatient cataract surgery for granted, it took 25 years for Kelman’s phacoemulsification to become the definitive technique for removing cataracts. 1996 was the first year in which 97% of all cataract operations in the U.S. were done by phacoemulsification. Dr. Goldstein, one of the most revered scientists in medical research, asks this simple question: “Why does it take so long —often more than a quarter of a century—for the general population to recognize, appreciate and embrace works of science that have such enormous benefits for humanity?” Goldstein replies, “It would be fair to say, that most of us, unlike Charles Kelman, apparently lack the vision.”
 
Brian Klepper is a health care analyst based in Atlantic Beach, FL. He attended the Aspen Health Forum as a Fellow.          
 
 
 
Aspen Health Forum - Removing The Blinders: Dr. Kelman’s Wonderful Contribution
Thursday, October 18, 2007