People often ask me who my surgical mentor was. They are usually surprised by my answer. Early in my career, I did not have one single mentor who shaped my identity as a surgeon. Instead, I learned from everyone.
I observed every surgeon I encountered. I watched how they held instruments. How they spoke to patients. How they managed stress. How they reacted when complications occurred. How they organized their operating rooms. How they made decisions. Every surgeon had something valuable to teach. Some taught me what to do. Others taught me what never to do.
Never accept; understand
From the very beginning, I developed a habit that has remained with me throughout my entire career. I never accepted a technique simply because an experienced surgeon told me it was correct. I wanted to understand why.
Why was that incision placed there? Why was that instrument chosen? Why was the patient positioned that way? Why did one surgeon obtain better results than another? Why were certain complications occurring?
If I could understand the reasoning behind a technique, then I could improve it. That way of thinking would later become the foundation of my career as an innovator.
Knowledge should never be memorized. It should be understood. Understanding gives you the freedom to improve. Memorization simply teaches you to repeat.
Inside every operating room
During medical school and later during my internship, I spent as much time as possible inside the operating room. Whenever another specialty had an interesting operation, I wanted to be there. Whenever a visiting professor arrived, I wanted to observe. Whenever a new instrument appeared, I wanted to hold it. Whenever a new idea emerged, I wanted to understand it.
Looking back, I realize I was not merely learning surgery. I was learning how surgeons think. That became infinitely more valuable. Technical skills can always be acquired. A way of thinking takes much longer to develop.
Humility
One of the most important lessons I learned during those early years was humility. Medicine has a way of reminding every physician that no one knows everything. The moment a surgeon believes there is nothing left to learn is the moment growth stops.
I have never considered myself finished. Every new technology, every new publication, every new procedure, every conversation with a colleague, every patient, every complication, every success — each one becomes another opportunity to learn.
Hundreds of mentors
In retrospect, perhaps I did have mentors. Not one. Hundreds. Every surgeon I met became a teacher in some way. Every patient became a teacher. Every operating room became another classroom. Every challenge became another lesson.
Later, when I became a professor, I encouraged my own residents to do exactly the same. Never imitate. Understand. Never copy. Think. Never become satisfied with knowing how. Always search for why — because once you understand why, innovation becomes possible.