Medical heroes

Professor Bongani Mayosi, an exceptionally humble and brilliant man was the Dean of the Faculty of Health Sciences, at the University of Cape Town; where I work.

Around two weeks ago, on a Friday evening, I was informed of his sudden passing. I was devastated.

Shortly thereafter, my husband showed me a statement his family had released: mourning his death, and informing the public that our beloved Prof had battled with depression for two years and now had taken “the desperate decision to end his life”.

My heart broke. Death is always a shock, I think. But these particular circumstances seemed to shake at the roots of the medical community that surrounded Prof.

In medicine there are some unspoken rules. Little things that seem to subtly govern our culture. One of them, is that brilliant doctors are often arrogant and cruel. They can’t help it of course (or so we are told). These are busy people. Busy saving lives, and publishing papers and trying to educate young students and doctors. There is no time for kindness.

In my career in medicine, I have met a handful of doctors who have taught me differently. Role models who inspired me, that genius and brilliance need not always be coupled to arrogance.

Prof Mulder – my ENT Professor in University was one of the first of these role models. The first hint to my young fourth year mind, that the “kind Prof” was not entirely a myth.

Dr Kasandri Govender – an exceedingly kind Obstetrician & gynecologist that I had the privilege of working with as an intern. Kas, who remains my friend showed me that in the thick of it – the busiest of hospitals, massive patient loads, high stress situations – there is always time to be kind to those around you. If I ever return to clinical medicine – I would like to practice the way she does.

Dr Felix Mkhonza – is a neurosurgeon I met working in a private hospital in Nelspruit. Private healthcare in South Africa is a busy space, and a business space. Felix was a treasure – neurosurgeons can be somewhat infamous for their swelling egos. Felix was unlike any other I had met. He helped. He practiced team work. And he truly cared for patients.

Prof. Mayosi, too, was one of those rare people. He had this gift of inspiring those around him, with his presence alone. An internationally renowned researcher, a phenomenal clinician and somehow…also…a really friendly man. I would walk along the corridors at work, and I would see Prof – the head of our entire Faculty – stop to greet people. He would greet me. He would smile. He looked at you, like he believed in you. And in doing so, suddenly you found that you believed in yourself.

Prof Mayosi will be desperately missed. And my heart goes out to his family and close friends, in particular.

We have much to continue to learn from both Prof Mayosi’s life and his death. Here is hoping that we have the wisdom to quieten our voices, and listen to the lessons he has to offer.