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EDITORIAL: Pig Pioneers




RICHARD Slayman, a 62-year-old man with end-stage renal disease, became the forerunner of a new era. His frail body, weary from years of dialysis, bore witness to a medical breakthrough that transcended species and defied the boundaries of possibility.


On that fateful day, March 16, the operating room of Massachusetts General Hospital buzzed with anticipation. Dr. Jim Kim, a sentinel of transplantation, stood at the helm, orchestrating a four-hour ballet of skill and compassion.


The spotlight fell on a kidney—a gift not from a fellow human, but from a genetically modified pig. A porcine organ, meticulously engineered to bridge the chasm between scarcity (of available organs) and abundance (of genetically modified pig organs, a wellspring of hope for those languishing on transplant waiting lists).


The surgery marked a major milestone—an inspiration illuminating the path toward readily available organs for patients teetering on the precipice of life and death. Richard Slayman, his name etched in medical history, lay on the operating table, his body a canvas for hope. The pig kidney nestled within him, a testament to human ingenuity and the audacity to dream beyond the confines of biology.


But this was no ordinary swine. eGenesis, had sculpted this porcine organ with precision. Genes harmful to a human recipient were excised, replaced by the delicate strands of our own DNA. Viruses that once coursed through pig veins, threatening to leap into ours, were silenced. The pig kidney, a chimera of species, held the promise of salvation.


eGenesis is a biotechnology company committed to using its multiplex gene editing and genome engineering platform to transform solid organ and therapeutic cell transplantation for the treatment of serious diseases.


And so, Richard Slayman’s body welcomed its new tenant. The pig kidney stirred to life, weaving its magic within him. Urine flowed—a symphony of survival. The kinetic estimated glomerular filtration rate danced from mere whispers to robust rhythms. Creatinine levels, once stagnant, dipped like a phoenix into rebirth. The transplanted kidney, pink and pulsing, whispered secrets of resilience.


Yet, this was more than a surgical feat; it was a symphony of compassion. The pig, once a distant cousin (the term is a playful way to emphasize their evolutionary relationship to humans, even though the actual genetic connection is more distant than that of close relatives like first cousins or siblings) now a lifesaver. The antibodies, experimental and unyielding, stood guard against rejection. Richard Slayman, a bridge between worlds, bore witness to the fusion of science and empathy.


As the days unfolded, the pig kidney held its ground. No hyperacute rejection marred its journey. Hourly urine output surpassed the native kidneys—a testament to its porcine tenacity. Richard, too, emerged from the shadows of dialysis, his spirit buoyed by the pulse of a borrowed heart.


In the corridors of medicine, whispers spread—a new dawn, a revolution. Xenotransplantation—the melding of species—had etched its mark. Dr. Robert Montgomery, an observer from afar, nodded in acknowledgment. The NYU Langone Transplant Institute would echo with this tale—a triumph of science, compassion, and the audacity to dream.


And so, we stand on the precipice, gazing into the horizon. The pig kidney, a beacon of hope, reminds us that boundaries are mere illusions. In the dance of life and death, perhaps salvation lies in the unlikeliest of places—a pig’s heart, a monkey’s survival, a man’s redemption.


Richard Slayman, the first of many, walks forth—a living testament to the audacity of science and the compassion that binds us all. His footsteps echo through time, whispering, “We are more than flesh and bone; we are the architects of miracles.”


May the pig kidney beat on, a symphony of life, a bridge across species, and a testament to our shared humanity.


In the quiet corridors of medical progress, a symphony of hope reverberates—a melody woven from porcine hearts and human yearning. Richard Slayman, the 62-year-old pioneer, stands at the crossroads of science and compassion, his frail body a testament to resilience.


The pig kidney, a genetic marvel, now pulses within him—a bridge across species, a beacon for the countless souls languishing on transplant waiting lists. For every 17 lives lost daily in the U.S., a kidney remains elusive, a treasure buried deep within the scarcity of organs.


Dr. Robert Montgomery, an architect of miracles, gazes into the future. Xenotransplantation—the audacious fusion of animal and human—holds the key. In Boston’s Massachusetts General Hospital, the pig kidney whispers secrets of survival. Genes edited, viruses silenced, it defies nature’s boundaries.


Richard’s journey echoes others—the hearts transplanted into desperate chests, beating for a few fleeting weeks. Compassionate use, they call it—a lifeline for those teetering on the precipice of existence. But this time, it’s different. The kidney thrives, its porcine rhythm harmonizing with Richard’s pulse.


The FDA watches, poised on the brink of authorization. Clinical trials beckon—a canvas to paint the future. Gene edits, medications, pathways to salvation—they diverge like rivers seeking the sea. The University of Maryland’s pig heart, a bittersweet memory, reminds us that science dances with uncertainty.


Yet, hope blooms. The pig kidney, a gift from eGenesis, heralds a new era. No longer must patients languish, their dreams fading with each dialysis session. Richard Slayman, a true pioneer, whispers to the waiting souls, “We are more than flesh and bone; we are possibility incarnate.”


And so, we march—a procession of hope, pig organs and human hearts entwined. The 57-year-old man, his terminal heart silenced, becomes a constellation—a beacon for those who follow. In the quietude of medical miracles, we glimpse a new dawn—a world where pigs and humans share their essence.


Richard’s legacy unfolds—a triumph etched in porcine cells, a testament to our audacity. The field marches forward, its cadence resolute. The pig, once a humble farm dweller, now a lifesaver. The heart, the kidney—their whispers echo through time, urging us to dream beyond the ordinary.


In the operating rooms, surgeons wield scalpels and hope. The pig-to-human symphony crescendos. Richard Slayman, the first of many, walks forth—a living testament to science’s embrace and the compassion that binds us all.


May the pig kidneys beat on, their rhythm a lullaby for the waiting, their legacy etched in the annals of possibility.


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