To my children, Josh, Luke, and Tessa, I owe a great debt: becoming and being a neurosurgeon made me miss a great deal of their lives. I hope that as I become older and wiser, I may try to make up for those absences in some small way. My children are, in the end, the most meaningful experiences in my life.

There is my mother, Lilli, and my brother, Patrick, who always created a home in their hearts when life seemed to offer none.

The Mentors Who Showed the Way I also need to acknowledge a few mentors. Wilder Penfield was the neurosurgeon who inspired me to go into the field of neurosurgery. Dr. Daniel Federman, the Dean of Students at Harvard Medical School, refused to let me settle for anything but the most rigorous training as a neurosurgeon.The MGH was my home, my country, and my family for eight years. I received within the halls, the wards, and the operating theaters of the MGH, the finest training I could ever dream of as a physician. It was at the MGH that I also found some of my greatest inspirations. There are a few I would like to thank. Peter Black, in whose lab I learned the fundamental principles of scientific investigation. Peter combined an encyclopedic intellect with a profound sense of philosophy. Roberto Heros was my neurovascular mentor. No surgeon more epitomized for me the dashing courage and unshakeable confidence that a brain surgeon must exhibit than he did. Roberto also had a big heart—one big enough to help me find the true joys of surgery. There is Doctor Ojemann. To my mind, he’s the greatest neurosurgeon I ever met. He was the ultimate “craftsman” and tackled the most difficult and daunting surgical cases with superb, extraordinary outcomes. Dr. Ojemann showed me that the best teachers could spur you to greater heights by inspiration rather than by intimidation. Then there is Dr. Zervas, the Chairman of the Neurosurgical Department at the MGH. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of the neurosurgical literature that he combined with a very humanistic, compassionate approach to his patients. It was Dr. Zervas who cautioned me early in my career: “it is better to die by the hand of God than the hand of man”—something I always remind myself about when considering life-threatening surgery for any patient of mine. I made many lifelong friends at the MGH, including David Frimm, Rich Ellenbogen, Karl Swann, Fred Sonstein, Kevin Kiwak, Kevin McGrail, Brain Beyerl, Eric Zager, Fred Barker, Chris Ogilvy, Joe Madsen, Joe Phillips, Jim Schumacher, Bill Butler, Andrea Halliday, and a whole host of surgeons, far more gifted than I, who have included me in their midst.

“There are many heroes in my life and many in my neurosurgical career. Dr. Wilder Penfield was one of the greatest pioneers in neurosurgery and his work heavily influenced me to choose a career in neurosurgery. (Photo courtesy of McGill University). “Another of my heroes from the Massachusetts General Hospital is Dr. Nicholas T. Zervas. He was one of those teachers who let his pupils “hear” how he thought, how he weighed the risks of a surgical operation, how he approached the problems of each patient. He also combined his gifts as a teacher with a disarmingly encyclopedic knowledge of neurosurgical research. (Photo courtesy of Massachusetts General Hospital) “Another one of my neurosurgical heroes—Dr. Robert Ojemann. I never met a more meticulous surgeon who showed greater respect for patients or tissues. I still never get into a difficult part of a neurosurgical operation where I don’t ask myself: “What would Dr. Ojemann do in a situation like this?” (Photo courtesy of Massachusetts General Hospital)

The Team at The University of Arizona

At the University of Arizona, there have also been many colleagues: Drs. Milos Chvapil, who was the Director of Surgical Research, Bruce Jarrel, the Surgical Chairman before my tenure in that job, Phil Carter, my Neurosurgery Chief when I arrived in 1990. And then colleagues: Martin Weinand, Karsten Fryburg, Bill Smith, Joel McDonald, Mitch Gropper, Gabriel Gonzalez-Portillo, Miguel Melgar, John Porter, Mike Demeure, Hugo Villar and a host of surgeons, many of whom I have had the honor to recruit. Jim Dalen was the Dean of the College of Medicine while I was the Chairman of Surgery and epitomized the kind of leader at whose feet one is honored to lay his sword. Most recently, I would like to express my gratitude for my team members in the Arizona Simulation Technology and Education Center: Mohamed Salkini, Alyson Knapp, and Jo Marie Gellerman.

I have treasured my close friendship over many years with Dr. Richard Carmona, until recently the Surgeon General of the United States. I had wanted Rich to become my Vice-Chairman of the Surgery Department. I was shocked to receive a call from Andrew Card, the Chief of Staff at the White House, telling me the President of the United States was also trying to recruit Rich. The President won. Rich is a man of inestimable integrity, strength, and courage. He and his wife, Diane, are sources of constant inspiration to me.

Inspiring the Creative Forces Within

Within my sphere as a writer, there are many people to whom I am indebted. First, there is Rod Serling, the creator of television series The Twilight Zone. Rod was my creative writing teacher for two years at Ithaca College. It was one of the luckiest breaks in my life to be so close to such a great writing talent. Rod had a profound love of the writer as storyteller and introduced our class to some of the “greats” in Science Fiction: the two most memorable for me being Harlan Ellison and Ray Bradbury.

I am blessed with many wonderful friends in Tucson. First, there is Michael Karopatkin of Spectra Consulting. Michael was the first to encourage me to think about writing a book. My beautiful friend Dr. Brian Walker never once faltered in his belief that I could offer something back to the surgical profession—from the heart. I cannot express how much I have learned about the art and craft of writing from Rebecca Salome. She combines a love of writing with an ability to dissect what it takes to make a writer speak from the heart, with an “authentic voice.” I could not survive without the expert skills of my administrative assistant, Carol Shaughnessy-Quinn. She is all things: sergeant major, transcriber, editor, confidant, and coach. Most of all, she surmounts the quirks of my obsessive personality and the emotional tempests that sometimes sweep over me and gets the job done.

My literary agent, Mike Larsen, is not only willing to take chances on first-time authors but also loves books enough to find more. Dottie DeHart, my publicist, has demonstrated an enduring faith in the mission of so many of the writers she champions: to infuse spirituality back into people’s personal lives. My editor, Mitch Horowitz at Tarcher Division of Penguin Books, is the embodiment of what every writer imagines a good editor should be. Mitch can make an inquiry into the details of choosing a particular word or piece of punctuation but also ask an overarching question or suggestion that makes me aware that I have not fully expressed what I intended. He believes passionately in taking on projects that connect the spiritual with the scientific because he shares a longing to look beyond the physical world for the most enduring answers to the question life raises. Mitch is also unafraid to be a fan of his writers’ work. He inspires an energetic, devoted team. Shanta Small and Laura Ingman, from the publicity team at Penguin, impressed me not only with their professionalism but with their genuine enthusiasm and familiarity with my book—one among the hundreds coming across their desks. I was touched they cared so personally about what I had written.

I need to express my gratitude for my friend and colleague, Dr. Andrew Weil. Andy has never wavered in his support for me as I developed a collection of “medical stories.” From the very first, he offered to write a forward to my book—even when I was not sure I had the workings of one. Andy has always been an inspiration to me. Before Andy became a well-known author and speaker to the outside world, he was already famous within the University of Arizona for making himself available to help colleagues and their patients find alternative methods when others in the medical profession gave up, no longer willing to offer help or hope. He has always stood for intellectual courage and honesty in medicine, patiently championing the value of integrative medicine, even when it was very unpopular with so many of his peers, in both allopathic and alternative schools. Andy has managed to lead a major movement to revolutionize how we think about health and healing without developing that worst of all leadership traits: namely, telling others what to think or believe. He has always valued the ability of both patient and physician to judge the merits of therapy on their own. I am forever in his debt.