When people visit a doctor, it's usually out of necessity: they're unwell, have suffered an accident, or are dealing with a chronic condition. Arriving at a hospital or clinic, they seek attentive care and hope for solutions, if possible, to their ailments. It's true that, like in every profession, there are varying degrees of competence among doctors and nurses. However, when you're feeling sick, preserving your health becomes paramount. Finding a professional who is not only skilled but also a genuinely compassionate human being who can make you smile, even in dire situations, is invaluable. That describes our interviewee today, Dr. Carlos Cabrera Álvarez, a renowned orthopedic surgeon and a friend.
Our paths crossed during my numerous knee injury treatments at the "Frank País" and "Fructuoso Rodríguez" hospitals in Havana. He became an indispensable ally, especially after the passing of the eminent orthopedic surgeon and professor, Rodrigo Álvarez Cambra, in 2023, and the departure of other great doctors like Liván and Heysel.
Settling in New Horizons
You've retired and relocated to the United States. Where are you currently based?
I find myself in the U.S., eager to explore new opportunities and continue practicing my beloved orthopedics, along with teaching and mentoring young generations. I've been here for six months on a visa, residing with relatives in Lehigh Acres, about half an hour from Fort Myers. They've offered tremendous support during my transition. My aim is to keep sharing my knowledge; at my age, experience is my greatest asset, though my hands may have slowed down.
I came "visiting," marking the year and a day required by law before applying for residency. I'm exploring different options for where I can work and live, whether it be in Colombia, the U.S., or Hong Kong. Ultimately, the Carlos you knew is considering a move to Spain.
A Passionate Journey from Medicine to Orthopedics
Tell me about your life. Why choose medicine over baseball?
I was born in Melena del Sur, a town known for its talented baseball players like Luis Ignacio González, Michael González, and the great Jorge Carlos Soler, a prominent MLB player. I pursued a medical career, perhaps influenced by my parents, even though sports captivated me. Among sports, judo was my forte, and I might have excelled in it, as martial arts have always been my greatest sporting passion. While the world lost a judoka, it gained a dedicated orthopedic surgeon who has had the privilege of healing many athletes.
When it comes to passion, medicine stands unrivaled in any life's domain. I initially aimed to study sports medicine, but in my time, one had to be an elite athlete to pursue it. Nevertheless, I have no regrets about becoming an orthopedic surgeon. Surgical specialties always fascinated me, particularly orthopedics, which became my life's work. After specializing, I focused on pediatric pathologies while also treating adults. I've dedicated 47 years to medicine, celebrating 50 years as a doctor this year, having graduated in 1974. I trained as an orthopedic surgeon at the "Fructuoso Rodríguez" Teaching Orthopedic Hospital under the guidance of legends like Professor Martínez Páez, the illustrious Professor Rodrigo Álvarez Cambra, and others such as Ceballos, Cintas, Barrero, and Grau.
Memorable Experiences and Lifelong Lessons
With a 50-year career, you must have amassed numerous experiences and anecdotes. Do any stand out?
Indeed, after half a century in medicine, the number of surgeries I've performed and lives I've impacted is countless. One memorable case was the operation I performed on the chauffeur of the Cuban ambassador in Guyana. While not particularly complex, Kenth Odean had been in a cast for five months, fearing job loss and even facing potential amputation. I first addressed a soft tissue infection with a Phemister graft, eliminating the infection and paving the way for a successful recovery. In an interview, he remarked, "I am Guayanese, but I have a Cuban leg," a sentiment I'll never forget.
I've worked and operated not only in Guyana but also in South Africa and various Cuban provinces. I recall a patient with severe congenital anomalies, Jennifer Álvarez Betancourt, whom I treated for a significant limb shortening. Her family, now like my own, recently contacted me after hearing a YouTube piece about the case, expressing gratitude for my professionalism. To my delight, she's now a fourth-year medical student.
Another Guyana case involved Walter Lee, who developed gas gangrene after an accident. I advised amputation to save his life, which was a harrowing decision. Ultimately, he understood and expressed gratitude, recognizing the necessity of the procedure. At times, hesitation can be life-threatening.
Roots and Inspirations
Where did your passion for medicine, particularly orthopedics, originate? Is it a family tradition?
My mother, Norma, was a homemaker who also worked in tobacco-related tasks. My father, Berto (Juan Gualberto, sharing a birthday with Juan Gualberto Gómez), was well-versed in Cuban history. He instilled a love for baseball in me, having played semi-professionally in Quivicán. Both parents fueled my passion for the sport.
Did everyone support the same team?
Hahaha, imagine this: my father played second base for the Cigarros Genert team alongside players like Quilla Valdés and Adrián Zabala. But what a dilemma! My parents were Habanistas, while I secretly supported Almendares. I never dared to reveal it. My father rooted for the St. Louis Cardinals, whereas my mother and I were die-hard New York Yankees fans—a loyalty that endures. With the Yankees in this year's World Series final against the Dodgers, despite trailing, I still have faith in them.
Overlooked Contributions and the State of Cuban Medicine
It's been noted that a recent book on sports traumatology failed to acknowledge the pioneer of this field, responsible for rehabilitating many sports icons like Mireya Luis, Regla Torres, Javier Sotomayor, Alberto Juantorena, and Dalia Henry. As an experienced professional, can you shed light on this oversight?
This omission was a grave injustice, akin to trying to obscure the sun with a finger. The book was ultimately withdrawn. Professor Álvarez Cambra's contributions are unparalleled, recognized by all. Unfortunately, envy often prevails in our country, where mediocrity attempts to overshadow brilliance. In my era, conditions differed from how Álvarez Cambra shaped them.
In the 1970s, athletes sought treatment wherever they could find a willing traumatologist. I tended to talents like Rolando Verde, José Modesto "Chiki" Darcourt, Eduardo Cárdenas, and Luis García, all outstanding baseball players. However, the magical period arrived when sports traumatology gained its rightful place, and that's the truth. Despite attempts to erase those golden years, the Frank País Orthopedic Hospital, under Álvarez Cambra's leadership, became the sanctuary for injured athletes.
There, countless sports legends received care, including Frederich Cepeda, a formidable player still active past forty, and five-time Olympic champion Mijaín López. The hospital hosted eminent orthopedic surgeons like Luis Fleites Lafont, Hugo Mirandez, Abella, Gastón Arango, Entenza, Aurelio, and, of course, Dr. Liván Peña Marrero, a distinguished student of his mentor. Now residing in Spain with his orthopedic surgeon wife Heysel and their family, Liván treated many of these athletes.
Challenges in Modern Cuban Medicine
What are the common ailments among high-performance athletes?
In sports trauma, overuse injuries are prevalent alongside the trauma itself. In baseball, for example, there's Tommy John surgery; in soccer, knee ligament injuries are common. Generally, the musculoskeletal system endures substantial strain, leading to these injuries.
It's challenging to find contemporaries like Liván, Hugo, or René Anillo, brilliant sports traumatology educators, today. What's your perspective on the current state of Cuban medicine?
Ah, Julita! I'm not just referring to sports traumatology but medicine in general, globally. Medicine has become dehumanized, revolving around money and interests. It's shifted towards diagnostics and complementary tests, neglecting the "clinical mother." Cuba has adopted this approach. Without complementary tests, precise diagnoses are tough; without clinical insight, diagnoses are impossible. Cuban doctors struggle with resource scarcity and harsh working conditions. The pressure and low salaries burden Cuban doctors, prompting many to leave the country. Hospital conditions are abysmal, an open secret to all!