When it is possible to get him out of operating rooms, hospitals and classes to talk about his life, Juan Pablo Umaña Mallarino (60 years old) repeatedly repeats the word chance, even though he has prepared all his life to enter the big leagues of medicine and the heart. This Bogota man is an international leader in highly complex cardiovascular surgery, he led one of the most ambitious aortic valve repair programs in the region and is one of the inventors of the MitraClip, the first mitral valve repair device, which since 1997 has saved thousands of lives around the world.
Since he was a child, he learned about social sense and commitment. His mother, Fanny Mallarino, for many years directed the Niño Jesús Foundation, which cared for the children of people deprived of their liberty. His father, Ignacio Umaña, was part of several social causes, such as the Cardioinfantil Foundation.
He studied medicine at the Universidad del Rosario, where he developed a passion for surgery. After graduating in 1990, he went to England, where he spent a year in liver transplantation, which he wanted to dedicate himself to, and another as a resident in general surgery at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital. His goal was to train and specialize to get into one of the top 10 medical programs in the United States.
After completing his studies, he went to New York to study at Columbia University. “If I look back on the history of my career, it is marked by chance,” he says of the valuable discovery that happens by chance or happenstance and can be decisive. When he applied, the program coordinator, a woman from Cali who liked him, scheduled an interview with one of the co-directors, John Chabot, the youngest and most open-minded, and who would ultimately have a great influence on Umaña’s career. During the interview, Chabot asked him what he would do if he did not continue his residency in surgery: “I’m going back to my country to plant potatoes,” he replied. The prestigious surgeon was disappointed. “No, seriously,” he questioned. And Umaña said: “I have two loves: medicine and the countryside. If I don’t reach the level I want in medicine and surgery, I’m sure I will achieve it in the countryside.” Finally, by chance, chance or destiny, a place opened up and he joined the program.
“You have to be a heart surgeon”
As a resident and a good Colombian, he worked twice as hard as any of his colleagues. He arrived at 4:30 in the morning and left at eight in the evening. Mehmet Oz, chief resident and who usually arrived before his students, began to take a close interest in this early morning doctor. “The third time, he said to me ‘who the hell are you?’. I told him my story and my fascination with being a liver transplant surgeon. ‘No, you have to be a heart surgeon and I’ll convince you.’ And so it was. For his second year as a resident, Umaña pursued cardiovascular surgery, which he considers the best decision of his life.
His intellectual and professional abilities led him to be associated with a research project in Dr. Oz’s laboratory, which resulted in the design of a device to repair the mitral valve without having to stop the heart. Something inconceivable at that time. “After a lot of work with doctors and lawyers, we patented the Mitraclip in 1997. It’s actually a patent from Columbia University, because otherwise I wouldn’t have to work,” he jokes.
When Umaña went to present the project at the American Heart Association conference, chance acted again. This put him in the spotlight. Well, one, because the light was focused on his hands and fingers, which showed the operation of the device, in the middle of great darkness. Eventually, Craig Miller, a leading expert in cardiothoracic surgery and chair of the panel, was impressed and invited him to Stanford University, where Umaña completed his studies in cardiac surgery and transplantation.
In 2002, with major job offers in the United States, Umaña was piqued by his love of service and patriotism, by his family. He preferred to come back and accept an offer from the Cardioinfantil Foundation, team up with surgeons Reinaldo and Camilo Cabrera and put Colombia on the map of cardiac surgery in Latin America and the world.
For 20 years, they practically rebuilt the institution. They hired the best talents in cardiology and cardiovascular surgery in the country, such as doctors Néstor Sandoval and Jaime Camacho, but also other doctors, nurses and administrative staff, and implemented a training program. “We renovated the operating rooms, we reduced infection rates, we innovated, we increased the capacity to 340 beds and, with the Cleveland Clinic, we built a new tower and implemented a method in which everyone works around the patient. Not just children, who were the center of the institution, but of all ages, and that is why it is now called Cardio. Today, along with Brazil and Argentina, Colombia is recognized in America Latin for its high level of cardiovascular surgery, and I think we have made our contribution.”
In 2022, he was presented with the opportunity to return to the United States. First at the Cleveland Clinic and, during his stay, the University of Miami offered him the opportunity to become professor and head of the department of cardiothoracic surgery at the Miller School of Medicine and the UHealth health system, so that he could replicate the training he developed at La Cardio and train new specialists. He is also chief of surgery at the university’s three hospitals in Florida, which have more than 2,400 beds.
Much of this latest virtuous circle, he says, is due to his second wife, lawyer Ángela Gutiérrez, who supported and endured him during his very long work days. “She who keeps me alive and motivates me to move forward, like Felipe, the son from my first marriage, and Juan Sebastián (the son from his wife).”
He remains a member of the board of directors of Cardioinfantil and is linked to the health of Colombia. He believes that our system and that of Chile are among the best in the world. This is why he considers that this should be one of the priorities of a new government: to restore and save the system, which was not perfect. Today more than ever, Umaña believes that “the only true legacy” that doctors leave are the people they train over time: “This is the only way to extend our knowledge for the benefit of others.”