Are you smarter than a neurosurgeon?

Recently my Dad experienced a brain issue and was hospitalized for a few days. I had the opportunity to leave work to be with him at the hospital.  After his minor brain surgery (if you can call a brain surgery minor), I was spending the day with him and my mother in his neuro intensive care hospital room.  Because it was an intensive care unit, a parade of doctors and nurses attended to him regularly.  He was doing very well, but they do not put anyone on autopilot in intensive care.  At some point during this parade of health care professionals, a resident neurosurgeon arrived in his room to check on his progress.  The resident neurosurgeon had assisted with my Dad’s surgery the previous day and was stopping by to check on him.  When he entered the room, he greeted my Dad, who in turn introduced me to the doctor. 

My parents often introduce me to strangers as; “This is my daughter, Julie, she is a veterinarian.”  The doctor showed some polite interest in my profession because he is a dog owner. He asked me about my job – how did I like it - and then about how I thought my Dad was doing today.  I told him that I loved my job on most days and that my Dad seemed to be doing remarkably well after what he had been through the day before.  I then shared that my Mom and I were a little embarrassed that we didn’t pick up on my Dad’s symptoms earlier and get him to the hospital.  I felt that we should have known that something was not right sooner than we did.  My Dad had been showing some insidious symptoms for the past few days and none of us picked them up.  I was particularly embarrassed that I didn’t see it earlier.

The neurosurgeon laughed and said, “Let me tell you a story.”  He preceded to tell me that he has a middle-aged dog that sometime last summer started drinking more than usual.  She was losing weight and passing some urine that seemed a little sticky and strange. He told me that it went on for weeks with his dog drinking and urinating more and dropping weight.  He really did not know what was wrong with her. The dog had a huge appetite for water, but he just kept thinking that the water drinking “was because it was hot outside and the dog was drinking due to the heat”.    He said he finally decided to take the dog into the veterinary hospital to attempt to diagnose her problem. 

As soon as the veterinarian heard the symptoms and looked at the neurosurgeon’s dog, she told him that the dog may have diabetes.  As the veterinarian left the room to get her technician to draw the pet’s blood, the neurosurgeon said he sheepishly removed the hospital credentials - clipped to his scrub pocket identifying him as a neurosurgeon - and slowly hid them in his pants pocket.  He could not believe that he didn’t think of diabetes.  He did not want the veterinarian to know that he was a physician and he was quite embarrassed.

He told me, “Do not feel bad about not diagnosing your father’s condition because I couldn’t diagnose my dog’s diabetes.”  He said, “I will take care of your father’s brain and you can take care of my dog’s diabetes.”  I laughed and told him that I appreciated his story because it did indeed make me feel better about my lack of knowledge when it came to my Dad.  

By the way, I also had another neurosurgeon at the hospital tell me that he always wanted to be a veterinarian.  So, when you start doubting yourself and feel as if your job is not all that important, remember that you may be smarter than a neurosurgeon.

"I cannot do everything, but I can do something. I must not fail to do the something that I can do."  - Helen Keller

Dr. Julie Cappel