FARMINGTON – He had a cold, he thought, had been feeling rundown throughout the fall of 2003, but chalked up his tiredness to long hours at work and the physical changes people go through in their 50s.
All the time, something much more ominous was going on inside Dr. Jeffrey Fuson’s body. A valve was disintegrating in his heart – a congenital defect, cardiologists later told him – and the defect allowed an infection (called endocarditis) to take root.
While the Farmington family practitioner rested at home with what he thought was a touch of the flu just after Christmas in 2003, Lisl Fuson asked her husband a question and he answered her strangely, she said.
She asked his partner, Dr. Steve Bien, to come right over.
Her husband “looked happy, in no distress, but he didn’t put two words together that made any sense,” Bien said. It’s called aphasia, and happens when the language centers in the brain are damaged. Bien immediately called an ambulance.
Small strokes
After being rushed to Maine Medical Center in Portland, Fuson learned that some infectious cells from his valve had settled in his brain, causing “three small strokes” and affecting his speech, memory and coordination.
He had open-heart surgery to replace his aortic valve, followed by weeks of hospital recovery and months of outpatient rehabilitation. During rehab, he was working “on cognitive function – thinking and talking and doing,” Fuson explained.
Two years later, “I’m not (even) semi-normal yet,” said Fuson, who’s now 59. “That is, I’m still in recovery, (although) the major part has occurred.”
What’s amazing, though, is that while Fuson still has a ways to go, he has improved enough to be able to practice medicine again, said Bien. Many people with endocarditis die from the disease, Bien said. He said the recovery process for stroke victims often has “a very swift takeoff” and then stops, while Fuson has continued to get better steadily.
Bien said he remembered immediately following Fuson’s surgery, “He talked in a vague way.”
“Instead of saying, Something happened to my heart,’ he might say, Something happened to the place where the flow happens.'”
Now Fuson speaks normally. The Maine Board of Licensure in Medicine agreed he’d improved enough to grant him a conditional license on Jan. 10.
Randall Manning, executive director of the Board of Licensure, said that it’s unusual for the board to grant a limited license in that way. “Right now we’ve got three,” Manning said. He explained that Fuson has “a physical condition of some concern, so right now we’re limiting how (he will) practice.”
He is only allowed to see about six patients a day, and must discuss his cases with Bien before leaving the office each day. He also doesn’t have “on-call” responsibilities. Bien is responsible for giving the Board of Licensure monthly reports about Fuson.
After years of being mentored by Fuson, Bien said he’s happy to have a chance to return “that gift.”
Bien and his wife moved to Farmington about 25 years ago, shortly after meeting Fuson, so the two could build a practice together. “It was love at first sight,” said Bien. “Just like when I met my wife and knew she’s the right person,’ when I met Jeff I thought, This was it.'”
At the time of the initial crisis, Bien said, “It seemed impossible” that Fuson would ever be able to return to his medical practice.
“I remember coming home and just sobbing,” Bien said.
Fuson’s patients and co-workers have been glad to see him back at work, some noting they don’t see a difference in his ability.
Judi Wills, who’s worked in Fuson’s office for 23 years, said Monday, “His patients needed him to be back.”
“We were just heartbroken when he wasn’t here,” said patient Jean Mitchell of Temple. “He takes care of the whole you, not just the physical, but the mental, too.”
Fuson describes his recovery process as difficult but “exciting.”
“Reorienting myself around practice takes some doing,” he said. “It’s hard enough when you’re away on vacation” for one month, let alone 18, and coping with memory loss has been frustrating, at best.
But his illness also gave him “a heightened appreciation about what life is,” he said.
Fuson said that medically, he was very fortunate. “Most people don’t survive that falling apart, and those that do typically have consequences that are hugely debilitating.”
“I’m amazingly fortunate to be up and doing, and thinking and speaking, and working and loving.”
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