Dr. Mildred T. Stahlman, beloved Vanderbilt professor and child health pioneer dies at 101

Dr. Mildred T. Stahlman, or Millie as she is fondly remembered by friends and colleagues, a Vanderbilt University professor who pioneered research in fatal infant lung diseases and opened one of the nation’s first NICU units at Vanderbilt, died at her Brentwood home on June 29.

She was 101.

A tireless advocate for children and medical research, Stahlman was a world traveler and a fan of bluegrass music who loved to spend days on her farm.

In 1961, she became the first physician to treat a premature baby for severe hyaline membrane disease, or infant respiratory distress syndrome, using her training in pediatric cardiology and newborn physiology.

Using a miniature iron lung machine with a combination of negative and positive mechanical ventilation, she was able to successfully monitor the baby day and night and ween her off the machine within five days at Vanderbilt.

That baby, Martha Lott, is now a nurse in Vanderbilt's NICU — neonatal intensive care unit.

Stahlman grew up in a prominent Southern family in Nashville, the daughter of Nashville Banner Publisher James Stahlman, and knew she wanted to be a doctor after receiving a gift of her first microscope at the age of 11.

In 1943, Stahlman was admitted to Vanderbilt University where she was one of four women in a class of 50 people. But being a woman in what was considered a male career field never intimidated her.

After she graduated from Vanderbilt, she was offered a fellowship at the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm, Sweden where her perspective on health care evolved dramatically.

“Seeing a different healthcare system really changed her look on how important it is that you really have to pay attention to the whole person and also health care disparity,” said Corey Neson Reese, Stahlman’s biographer.

In a Tennessean article published February 5, 1965, Stahlman said: “It’s not a matter of competition between women and men in the field of medicine. We have no apologies to make because we are women.”

In that same article, Stahlman recounts a time when she treated a child turning blue in the emergency room, unable to breathe. The grandfather of the child came between Stahlman and the patient and said: “Ain’t no girlie doctor gonna touch my grandbaby.” Dr. Stahlman told the grandfather that if any doctor touches the child it would be her. And she proceeded to save her life.

She was also ahead of her time in helping to integrate minorities and women at Vanderbilt, hiring and training nurses, technologists and physicians.

'She demanded excellence'

Odessa Settles, Stahlman’s close friend and work colleague, said she emulates her friend's work ethic in her nursing practice.

“The patients she dealt with, she saw from a family and social standpoint,” said Settles. “The family is the patient and if the social aspect of the family is not intact, the outcome is impacted negatively.”

Stahlman was a woman who was fiercely loved but who was also known to be intimidating despite her small stature.

“She demanded excellence from everyone she taught,” Reese said. “Details were important to her. She wanted to know everything. No exceptions.”

Settles and Reese both recounted how “Millie Rounds” were widely known to those around Vanderbilt.

In the mornings, she would pick the fellow or doctor she was training to give the round reports.

“You best know your stuff and you best know your families,” Settles said, laughing. “The doctors or fellows would shrink whenever they were picked to do rounds. She did it out of love. She wanted you to be a rounded physician who gave the best of care to these families.”

As tough as she was, when 4 p.m. would hit, she would invite her colleagues to the faculty club for a beer.

'A walking encyclopedia'

While she never had a family of her own, she was so close with the fellows and residents that they would often travel together or spend the day with her out at her farm. She even had an annual Christmas party with her colleagues and their children.

Using traditions she brought home from Sweden, she invited people into her home where she had a live tree with lit candles and traditional Swedish ornaments. Outside, children would shoot mistletoe from the trees on her land, under supervision, and they would sing carols.

“She was a great traveling companion because she was like a walking encyclopedia especially being to the places herself,” Settles said. “She enjoyed seeing places through new sets of eyes.”

Stahlman and Settles traveled to Europe, Scandinavia, and throughout the United States.

Stahlman also loved music — especially bluegrass and Doc Watson. Settles, who grew up as a musician and performing artist, would often sing "Amazing Grace" at Stahlman's request. She loved to visit the Station Inn bluegrass, roots and Americana club in downtown Nashville.

Stahlman requested to not have a service, but has stated that she wanted to have her ashes scattered amongst the blue bells while Settles sings “Amazing Grace”.