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I had the sickening experience of an abnormal MRI. A tumour in my skull, they said. The type? No one was sure. Some said it was benign, some said a brain infection, others said cancer. A biopsy wasn’t an option. It was in too deep.
So it was pretty much ‘’go with your gut’’ and trust the expert you choose to treat you.
The mixed reports caused anxiety, but the attitude of some specialists rocked me more. The ones who ultimately operated –Charlie Teo and Tom Kertesz – are my heroes.
They performed a risky surgery on what they correctly diagnosed as a rare bone cancer. Just as important as making sure I didn’t have a stroke, go blind or end up paralysed, was their ability to keep me calm.
Dr Kertesz makes my annual appointments feel like catch ups with an old friend. He hugs me and smiles when he says it’s okay until next time. But Dr Kertesz, I’ve discovered, is about as rare as my tumour.
I swore once I came through the surgery I would write about the dismissive, down-right rude exchanges I had with some gurus. It’s taken me 10 years.
I don’t know whether it’s their bruised egos when they get it wrong, or with the white coat comes a superiority complex.
To the one who begrudgingly admitted his misdiagnosis and shooed me to a colleague because ‘’you need to get that thing out quick smart, but he’s gone for the weekend, come back Monday’’: No I didn’t need your Valium to get through that horrendous weekend and your unsettling delivery.
To the one who hung up on me after wishing me ‘’good luck then, your life is in your hands’’ for choosing Dr Teo, I have this: If I’d listened to you I would still be wondering how long before the ‘’harmless tumour’’ chewed through my brain.
A tip to all high-flying surgeons: You have a right to be arrogant.
But your clientele are frightened people desperate for a hero. You would be more revered if you showed a little grace.