On Reflection Somebody’s mother
Lunch with The Lancet Drew Berry
Mary sat quietly under the whirring fans in the sweltering outpatients department of Ghana’s main hospital as she was told that her son, born 4 weeks ago, was brain damaged—the result of a difficult, unrecognised breech delivery and delayed resuscitation. In her pristine white dress, the celebratory colour adopted by all new mothers, she showed no emotion while nurses pushed piles of dog-eared folders about their desks. I, however, was shocked—by the casual brutality of the doctor who delivered the news. There were other mothers waiting and he only seemed to be interested in getting on to the next. Struggling to absorb the implications, she busied herself booking appointments for her damaged son. Later, sitting on a bench in the gloomy children’s block, with its faded rainbow, she started to weep. “At first they said he may be affected but now it is definite. His limbs are too rigid. It is very painful. I don’t mind if he is not good at school but if he can’t walk or talk—if he can’t read—what will he do?” What has remained with me from this encounter was the inhumanity of those caring for Mary and her son. Last month, a scathing report on the care delivered by the UK National Health Service, in this case to the elderly, showed that casual brutality is not the sole prerogative of hard pressed health-care systems in developing countries. The Care and Compassion? report by the Parliamentary and Health Service Ombudsman Ann Abraham described ten cases in which doctors and nurses had shown extraordinary insensitivity to the needs and feelings of elderly patients and their families, in one of the richest countries in the world. There has been much hand wringing since but no answers. Everyone has a view about what is wrong but none knows how to put it right. How can we remind medical staff, coping with a daily burden of suffering humanity, to treat their patients tenderly? The obvious targets—poor training, the absence of “matron”, the shortage of people willing to do basic caring tasks—pop up again and again. Another suggestion, from the website Kissing it Better which provides a forum for such ideas, is that patients should bring a family photo with them to hospital to place by their beds. It would help remind staff that this is somebody’s mother, or somebody’s son—and not just another bundle of trouble. It might be simpler than trying to teach tenderness.
Before lunching with Drew Berry, I visit his studio at the Walter and Eliza Hall Institute of Medical Research to watch examples of his prize-winning biomedical animations that interpret cellular and molecular processes. I am struck both by their beauty and Berry’s scientifically rigorous approach. Afterwards, we stroll across the University of Melbourne campus to a long-revered academic watering hole. A couple of months earlier, Berry had received a call from the Chicago-based MacArthur Foundation, which awards US$500 000 fellowships to US citizens who show exceptional merit for creative work. Unusually, you cannot apply for them and nominations are submitted anonymously to its selection committee. Berry was one of 23 fellows selected last year. His only inkling that something was brewing were earlier calls, seeking confirmation that he retained US citizenship. Quietly spoken, Berry still has a slight American accent after almost 30 years in Australia, where his peripatetic banker father was posted while Berry was at school. Now an Australian citizen, he is glad to have kept his US citizenship. Traditionally, biomedical illustrators worked from rough sketches by researchers, but Berry has become a more than equal partner in his interpretations of complex biochemical processes studied by researchers. After a masters degree in biomedicine he became a biomedical animator at The Walter and Eliza Hall Institute of Medical Research in 1995 and now helps run WEHI.TV, which showcases the work of the institute through 3D animation. He has published independently in Science and says he spends about a third of his working time reading research. His best known animation, representing the complexity of DNA replication and transcription, won Emmy and BAFTA awards. When I ask if animations might become integral parts of research papers, he explains that “although biomedical animation had accelerated using programming developed to generate computer games, it still takes months to create only a few minutes”. But he adds that “animation could be used to prove or disprove complex mechanisms of action postulated by researchers”. MacArthur genius awards free their recipients from financial constraints. “The cash comes with no strings attached, without any requirement to submit plans or reports”, says Berry. Although he will continue to interpret scientific research, his horizons are broad. Berry is currently exploring the possibility of developing an animated music video for a well known musician that will take the audience in a powers-of-ten zoom into the performer’s body. By any standards, the biochemistry of performance represents a new creative frontier.
Courtesy of the John D & Catherine T MacArthur Foundation
Perspectives
For biomedical animations by Drew Berry see http://www. youtube.com/user/WEHImovies
For more on preventing elder abuse see Editorial page 876
Jeremy Laurance
[email protected]
Colin Martin
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www.thelancet.com Vol 377 March 12, 2011
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