Medical staff rushing organs to a surgery for transplantation.
Thanks to the remarkable evolution of organ transplantation, it's now possible to replace genitals that don't work properly or have been injured. Surgeons have been transplanting ovarian tissue for more than a decade, and they're now successfully transplanting penises and wombs too.
Rules and regulations aren't keeping up with the rapid rise of genital transplants.
Earlier this year, an American soldier whose genitals were injured by a bomb in Afghanistan received the first-ever transplant of a penis and scrotum at Johns Hopkins Medicine.
Rules and regulations aren't keeping up with the rapid rise of genital transplants, however, and there's no consensus about how society should handle a long list of difficult and delicate questions.
Are these expensive transplants worth the risk when other alternatives exist? Should men, famously obsessed with their penises, be able to ask for a better model simply because they want one? And what happens when transplant technology further muddles the concept of biological parenthood?
"We need to remember that the human body is not a machine with interchangeable parts," says bioethicist Craig M. Klugman of DePaul University. "These are complicated, difficult and potentially dangerous surgeries. And they require deep consideration on a physical, psychological, spiritual, and financial level."
From Extra Testicles to Replacement Penises
Tinkering with human genitalia -- especially the male variety -- is hardly a new phenomenon. A French surgeon created artificial penises for injured soldiers in the 16th century. And a bizarre implant craze swept the U.S. in the 1930s when a quack physician convinced men that, quite literally, the more testicles the merrier – and if the human variety wasn't available, then ones from goats would have to do.
Now we're more sophisticated. Modern genital transplants are designed to do two things: Treat infertility (in women) and restore the appearance and function of genitals (in men).
In women, surgeons have successfully transplanted ovarian tissue from one woman to another since the mid-2000s, when an Alabama woman gave birth after getting a transplant from her identical twin sister. Last year, for the first time in the U.S., a young woman gave birth after getting a uterus transplant from a living donor.
"Where do you draw the line? Is pregnancy a privilege? Is it a right?"
As for men, surgeons in the U.S. and South Africa have successfully transplanted penises from dead men into four men whose genitals were injured by a botched circumcision, penile cancer or a wartime injury. One man reportedly fathered a child after the procedure.
The Johns Hopkins procedure was the first to include a scrotum. Testicles, however, were not transplanted due to ethical concerns. Surgeons have successfully transplanted testicles from man-to-man in the past, but this procedure isn't performed because the testes would produce sperm with the donor's DNA. As a result, the recipient could father a baby who is genetically related to the donor.
Are Transplants Worth the Expense and Risk?
Genital transplants are not simple procedures. They're extremely expensive, with a uterus transplant estimated to cost as much as $250,000. They're dangerous, since patients typically must take powerful drugs to keep their immune systems from rejecting their new organs. And they're not medically necessary. All have alternatives that are much less risky and costly.
Dr. Hiten D. Patel, a urologist at Johns Hopkins University, believes these types of factors make penis transplants unnecessary. As he wrote in a 2018 commentary in the journal European Urology, "What in the world are we doing?"
There are similar questions about female genital transplants, which allow infertile women to become pregnant instead of turning to alternatives like adoption or surrogacy. "This is not a life-saving transplant. A woman can very well live without a uterus," says McGill University's Dr. Jacques Balayla, who studies uterine transplantation. "Where do you draw the line? Is pregnancy a privilege? Is it a right? You don't want to cause harm to an individual unless there's an absolute need for the procedure."
But Johns Hopkins urologist Dr. Arthur L. Burnett II, who served on the surgical team that performed the penis-and-scrotum procedure, says penis transplants can be appropriate when other alternatives – like a "neophallus" created from forearm skin and tissue – aren't feasible.
It's also important to "restore normalcy," he says. "We want someone to be able to have sense of male adequacy and a normal sense of bodily well-being on both physical and psychological levels."
Surgical team members who performed the penis transplant, including W. P. Andrew Lee, director of the department of plastic and reconstructive surgery, center.
As for the anonymous recipient, he's reportedly doing "very well" five months after the transplant. An update on Johns Hopkins' website states that "he has normal urinary functions and is beginning to regain sensation in the transplanted tissues."
When the Organ Donors Do It Live
Some peculiar messages reached Burnett's desk after his institution announced it would begin performing penis transplants. Several men wanted to donate their own organs. But for now, transplanted penises are only coming from dead donors whose next of kin have approved the donation.
Burnett doesn't expect live donors to enter the penis transplant picture. But there are no guidelines or policies to stop surgeons from transplanting a penis from a live donor or, for that matter, a testicle.
Live women have already donated wombs and ovarian tissue, forcing them to face their own risks from transplant surgery. "You're putting the donor at risk because she has to undergo pretty expensive surgery for a procedure that is not technically lifesaving," McGill University's Balayla says.
When it comes to uterus transplants, the risk spreads even beyond donor and recipient. Balayla notes there's a third person in the equation: The fetus. "Immunosuppressant medication may harm the baby, and you're feeding the baby with a [uterine] blood vessel that's not natural, held together by stitches," he says.
It's up to each medical institution that performs the procedures to set its own policies.
Bioethicists are talking about other issues raised by genital transplants: How should operations for transgender people fit in? Should men be able to get penis transplants for purely cosmetic reasons? And then there's the looming question of genetic parenthood.
It's up to each medical institution that performs the procedures to set its own policies.
Let's say a woman gets a transplant of ovarian tissue, a man gets a testicle transplant, and they have a baby the old-fashioned way.* The child would be genetically linked to the donors, not the parents who conceived him or her.
Call this a full-employment act not just for bioethicists but theologians too. "Catholicism is generally against reproductive technologies because it removes God from the nature of the procreative act. This technology, though, could result in conception through the natural act. Would their concern remain?" DePaul University's Klugman asked. "Judaism is concerned with knowing a child's parentage, would a child from transplanted testes be the child of the donor or the recipient? Would an act of coitus with a transplanted penis be adultery?"
Yikes. Maybe it's time for the medical field or the law to step in to determine what genital transplants surgeons can and can't -- or shouldn't -- do.
So far, however, only uterus transplants have guidelines in place. Otherwise, it's up to each medical institution that performs the procedures to set its own policies.
"I don't know if the medical establishment is in the position to do the best job of self-regulation," says Lisa Campo-Engelstein, a bioethicist with Albany Medical College. "Reproductive medicine in this country is a huge for-profit industry. There's a possibility of exploitation if we leave this to for-profit fertility companies."
And, as bioethicist Klugman notes, guidelines "aren't laws, and people can and do violate them with no effect."
He doesn't think laws are the solution to the ethical issues raised by genital transplants either. Still, he says, "we do need a national conversation on these topics to help provide guidance for doctors and patients."
[Correction: The following sentence has been updated: "Let's say a woman gets a transplant of ovarian tissue, a man gets a testicle transplant, and they have a baby the old-fashioned way." The original sentence mistakenly read "uterus transplant" instead of "ovarian tissue."]
Jessica Fitzjohn, a postdoctoral fellow at the University of Canterbury, demonstrates the novel breast cancer screening device.
Researchers at the University of Canterbury and startup Tiro Medical in Christchurch, New Zealand are hoping their new device—which doesn’t involve any radiation or compression of the breasts—could increase the accuracy of breast cancer screening, broaden access and encourage more women to get checked. They’re digging into clues from the way buildings move in an earthquake to help detect more cases of this disease.
Earthquake engineering inspires new breast cancer screening tech
What’s underneath a surface affects how it vibrates. Earthquake engineers look at the vibrations of swaying buildings to identify the underlying soil and tissue properties. “As the vibration wave travels, it reflects the stiffness of the material between that wave and the surface,” says Geoff Chase, professor of engineering at the University of Canterbury in Christchurch, New Zealand.
Chase is applying this same concept to breasts. Analyzing the surface motion of the breast as it vibrates could reveal the stiffness of the tissues underneath. Regions of high stiffness could point to cancer, given that cancerous breast tissue can be up to 20 times stiffer than normal tissue. “If in essence every woman’s breast is soft soil, then if you have some granite rocks in there, we’re going to see that on the surface,” explains Chase.
The earthquake-inspired device exceeds the 87 percent sensitivity of a 3D mammogram.
That notion underpins a new breast screening device, the brainchild of Chase. Women lie face down, with their breast being screened inside a circular hole and the nipple resting on a small disc called an actuator. The actuator moves up and down, between one and two millimeters, so there’s a small vibration, “almost like having your phone vibrate on your nipple,” says Jessica Fitzjohn, a postdoctoral fellow at the University of Canterbury who collaborated on the device design with Chase.
Cameras surrounding the device take photos of the breast surface motion as it vibrates. The photos are fed into image processing algorithms that convert them into data points. Then, diagnostic algorithms analyze those data points to find any differences in the breast tissue. “We’re looking for that stiffness contrast which could indicate a tumor,” Fitzjohn says.
A nascent yet promising technology
The device has been tested in a clinical trial of 14 women: one with healthy breasts and 13 with a tumor in one breast. The cohort was small but diverse, varying in age, breast volume and tumor size.
Results from the trial yielded a sensitivity rate, or the likelihood of correctly detecting breast cancer, of 85 percent. Meanwhile, the device’s specificity rate, or the probability of diagnosing healthy breasts, was 77 percent. By combining and optimizing certain diagnostic algorithms, the device reached between 92 and 100 percent sensitivity and between 80 and 86 percent specificity, which is comparable to the latest 3D mammogram technology. Called tomosynthesis, these 3D mammograms take a number of sharper, clearer and more detailed 3D images compared to the single 2D image of a conventional mammogram, and have a specificity score of 92 percent. Although the earthquake-inspired device’s specificity is lower, it exceeds the 87 percent sensitivity of a 3D mammogram.
The team hopes that cameras with better resolution can help improve the numbers. And with a limited amount of data in the first trial, the researchers are looking into funding for another clinical trial to validate their results on a larger cohort size.
Additionally, during the trial, the device correctly identified one woman’s breast as healthy, while her prior mammogram gave a false positive. The device correctly identified it as being healthy tissue. It was also able to capture the tiniest tumor at 7 millimeters—around a third of an inch or half as long as an aspirin tablet.
Diagnostic findings from the device are immediate.
When using the earthquake-inspired device, women lie face down, with their breast being screened inside circular holes.
University of Canterbury.
But more testing is needed to “prove the device’s ability to pick up small breast cancers less than 10 to 15 millimeters in size, as we know that finding cancers when they are small is the best way of improving outcomes,” says Richard Annand, a radiologist at Pacific Radiology in New Zealand. He explains that mammography already detects most precancerous lesions, so if the device will only be able to find large masses or lumps it won’t be particularly useful. While not directly involved in administering the clinical trial for the device, Annand was a director at the time for Canterbury Breastcare, where the trial occurred.
Meanwhile, Monique Gary, a breast surgical oncologist and medical director of the Grand View Health Cancer program in Pennsylvania, U.S., is excited to see new technologies advancing breast cancer screening and early detection. But she notes that the device may be challenging for “patients who are unable to lay prone, such as pregnant women as well as those who are differently abled, and this machine might exclude them.” She adds that it would also be interesting to explore how breast implants would impact the device’s vibrational frequency.
Diagnostic findings from the device are immediate, with the results available “before you put your clothes back on,” Chase says. The absence of any radiation is another benefit, though Annand considers it a minor edge “as we know the radiation dose used in mammography is minimal, and the advantages of having a mammogram far outweigh the potential risk of radiation.”
The researchers also conducted a separate ergonomic trial with 40 women to assess the device’s comfort, safety and ease of use. Angela was part of that trial and described the experience as “easy, quick, painless and required no manual intervention from an operator.” And if a person is uncomfortable being topless or having their breasts touched by someone else, “this type of device would make them more comfortable and less exposed,” she says.
While mammograms remain “the ‘gold standard’ in breast imaging, particularly screening, physicians need an option that can be used in combination with mammography.
Fitzjohn acknowledges that “at the moment, it’s quite a crude prototype—it’s just a block that you lie on.” The team prioritized function over form initially, but they’re now planning a few design improvements, including more cushioning for the breasts and the surface where the women lie on.
While mammograms remains “the ‘gold standard’ in breast imaging, particularly screening, physicians need an option that is good at excluding breast cancer when used in combination with mammography, has good availability, is easy to use and is affordable. There is the possibility that the device could fill this role,” Annand says.
Indeed, the researchers envision their new breast screening device as complementary to mammograms—a prescreening tool that could make breast cancer checks widely available. As the device is portable and doesn’t require specialized knowledge to operate, it can be used in clinics, pop-up screening facilities and rural communities. “If it was easily accessible, particularly as part of a checkup with a [general practitioner] or done in a practice the patient is familiar with, it may encourage more women to access this service,” Angela says. For those who find regular mammograms uncomfortable or can’t afford them, the earthquake-inspired device may be an option—and an even better one.
Broadening access could prompt more women to go for screenings, particularly younger women at higher risk of getting breast cancer because of a family history of the disease or specific gene mutations. “If we can provide an option for them then we can catch those cancers earlier,” Fitzjohn syas. “By taking screening to people, we’re increasing patient-centric care.”
With the team aiming to lower the device’s cost to somewhere between five and eight times less than mammography equipment, it would also be valuable for low-to-middle-income nations that are challenged to afford the infrastructure for mammograms or may not have enough skilled radiologists.
For Fitzjohn, the ultimate goal is to “increase equity in breast screening and catch cancer early so we have better outcomes for women who are diagnosed with breast cancer.”