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Photograph by Jacqueline Ramseyer
Heartbreaking: Barbara Kuhlman wipes away tears during a moment of reflection on how Lou Gehrig's disease has affected her husband, Dr. William Kuhlman. The Kuhlmans, who met in college, will celebrate their 47th wedding anniversary this year.
The changes in medicine over the years
Retired Campbell doctor diagnosed with ALS is proof patient-doctor relationships not same
By Amy Jenkins
These days doctors may be lucky if they know a patient for several months. But Dr. William Kuhlman knew many of his patients their entire lives and even cared for their offspring. And while today doctors have waiting rooms full of patients, when Kuhlman was practicing medicine he "spent endless amounts of time with you," says his former patient and friend Mary Alexander.
And proof of the loyalty and special relationships he had with his patients are the hundreds of cards he has received since he was diagnosed last April with Lou Gehrig's disease. He keeps them in a wicker basket in his room at the Sub-Acute Saratoga nursing facility, where he has been hospitalized since July.
Former patients, as well as his family and friends visit him. Alexander visits Kuhlman and says he is an amazing person because he is still glad to see people he knows and has a smile on his face, despite what has happened to him.
Kuhlman grew up in Iowa and attended medical school at Iowa University, where he met his wife Barbara when they were both seniors. Although he lived in the eastern part of the state and she lived in the western part, they lived on the same highway, which Barbara says is "very romantic."
"I always say that I'm smarter because it only took me four years to graduate and it took him nine," she says with a laugh. But while he was in school so long getting his medical degree, she was earning a liberal arts degree.
After graduating, and while William was a medical intern for a year in Fresno, Barbara taught a semester at an elementary school, she says. Then they spent two years at March Airforce Base in Riverside.
In 1959 Kuhlman founded the Campbell Medical Group office, where he spent more than 40 years in family practice. He retired in January 2001. During his career, he delivered more than 200 babies a year, he says. Now they no longer deliver babies, Barbara says.
His favorite part of being a doctor were the relationships he formed with his patients, he says. He adds that he saw grandfathers, fathers and sons.
Everyday Barbara visits William for about three hours. For more than 30 years, the couple has lived in Monte Sereno, only miles away from the hospital. They have one daughter and two granddaughters who live in Willow Glen. And even though they have been married for 47 years they still learn new things about each other all the time.
High Spirited: Dr. William Kuhlman now must communicate with a pencil and paper because of the effects of ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease. Although Kuhlman's mind is as sharp as ever, he can't talk and barely has use of his hands.
Photograph by Jacqueline Ramseyer
"I didn't realize he was such a ham at heart," Barbara said while William smiled widely to have his photograph taken.
Alexander, her husband and their three children were not only Kuhlman's patients but also lived next door to him and went on many trips with the Kuhlman family. They have remained friends even since the Kuhlmans moved to Monte Sereno. The Alexanders still live in the Campbell home they have lived in since it was built 42 years ago because they "love" Campbell.
"[The Kuhlman's] are an amazing couple," Alexander says. "They fit together so well. They were so fun to be with."
The first sign that Kuhlman had the motor neuron disease, also called ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) was a slur in his speech. They first thought he had had a stroke, says Barbara. Now the disease has progressed and has affected him physically in a number of ways. He is nearly paralyzed, needs oxygen and cannot speak, so he communicates by writing. This is often a problem because "his handwriting is as bad as most doctors" and his old pharmacist is the only one who can read it, Barbara says.
The disease has not affected his spirit or mind, though. He still holds a conversation and has a sense of humor. He also looks on the bright side of his hospital room and wrote down the names of the colorful flowers planted outside.
There are pictures in his room of him having a good time on Sept. 14, his 73rd birthday, when the office manager at the hospital arranged for a Betty Boop impersonator to visit. Kuhlman smiled while he had bright red kiss marks on his forehead, from the visitor. The walls are also filled with pictures of his daughter and two granddaughters, ages 10 and 14. Below those pictures is a picture of Ronald Reagan because "we are longtime conservatives," Barbara says.
When not busy practicing medicine, William "constantly read medical journals," Barbara says. He also enjoyed fishing and playing cards. The couple also enjoyed traveling. William bought a German camera and enjoyed taking photographs for several years, Barbara says.
He and his wife have been to Europe more than 20 times. Among the places they visited were Scandinavia, France and Germany, where William's grandparents were born.
William's uncle also had ALS. The disease is 10 percent genetic, Barbara says. The Kuhlmans have heard from a doctor friend that the only possible cure for the disease could come from using stem cells, but they are not doing this yet, Barbara says.
"I just wish I didn't love him so much," says Barbara, while looking at her husband with tears in her eyes.
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Campbell, California
