Professor gets to the heart of what makes us tick

December 14, 2006|David Mehegan, Globe Staff

In no other part of the self is the tension between body and essence more tightly drawn than in the heart. That four-chambered organ, remarkably well understood as human components go, is often seen as basically a pump. Sophisticated and wonderfully adapted for its work, still -- a device for driving blood about the body on its critical passage through the lungs.

And yet, as Albert Carter shows in the reflective and moving book "Our Human Hearts," part of a Kent State University Press series on literature and medicine, it remains for most of us what it has long been: the seat of special emotion; even more than the brain, the symbol of ongoing life . Even when Terri Schiavo's mind was long gone, she was still understood to be alive while her heart continued to beat.

An adjunct professor of social medicine at the University of North Carolina School of Medicine (not a physician; his doctorate is in comparative literature), Carter is the author of a previous book on a humanist's encounter with human anatomy . During a one-semester teaching/research appointment at the University of Montana at Missoula , he researched this book, largely at the International Heart Institute of Montana , based at St. Patrick Hospital and Health Sciences Center .

The book has three main elements. First, Carter's continuing education in the physiology (and pathology) of the heart from elite surgeons at the heart institute. Second, an exploration in several essays of the manifold meanings of "heart" in language, culture, society, and literature. Third, a rich and voice-filled presentation, based on extensive interviews, of four seriously ill heart patients.

In these encounters, the identity of the heart as seat of human essence is most literally felt. Michael is a 27-year-old athlete with a congenital valve defect that is to be repaired with the Ross procedure , a delicate and radical operation. Kay is a middle-age single woman with cardiomyopathy -- her heart muscle has been damaged by a virus -- who must learn to live with limitations and uncertain future. A third patient, a 51-year-old Episcopal priest, had angioplasty for severe coronary artery disease and was forced to rearrange his life and habits to fight the return of the illness. The last is a 91-year-old man with a history of stroke and hypertension, still holding on to life, prayerful and grateful.

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