BEN Carson will never forget
that day last June. The famed pediatric neurosurgeon was in the
midst of a delicate brain operation when a nurse handed him the
telephone. On the other end of the line was his doctor. What he
was told would change his life forever. The Detroit native
(whose single mother, with a third-grade education, raised him
to become one of the greatest neurosurgeons in the world) had
prostate cancer, the high-grade type that spreads aggressively
and kills at a high rate. He was told that he would need to have
surgery fight away. "I had asked that I
be notified as soon as they found out," says Carson, who had
undergone a biopsy after noticing he was urinating more often
than usual. "I just didn't want to be worried about it. I have
the ability to put things out of my mind. I have always been
able to do that. I can very easily isolate things."
Carson, the director of pediatric neurosurgery
at the prestigious Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore,
continued the operation. But shortly afterwards, he began to
comprehend the enormity of that fateful telephone call. He had
consistently performed what many call medical miracles, like the
time he gained international prominence in 1987 after leading
the first successful operation to separate Siamese twins
attached at the back of the head. Now, at age 50, he was in need
of a miracle himself. "The first thing that came to my mind was,
`Wow, this is pretty devastating.' I had something that could
potentially take me out."
The medical superstar, who had never spent a
day in the hospital as a patient, says what worried him the most
was the way his illness could possibly affect other people. "I
wasn't really concerned about myself," he says. "When I die, I
really don't consider that a horrible thing because I have
always had a strong faith in God."
Carson says his wife Candy, whom he met as a
student at Yale University, and the rest of his family took the
news of his cancer hard. "I told my wife, and she was pretty
upset. My kids were dumbfounded. But at the same time we all
have a deep faith in God. So we prayed about it."
In the days that followed, instead of taking
it easy or shutting himself off from the outside world, Carson
continued to work. In fact, he worked harder than ever,
performing more than 40 surgeries in two weeks. "I wanted to get
all of my surgeries done because I didn't know how long I was
going to be out," he says. "I didn't want a lot of stuff hanging
over my head."
Carson performs between 400 to 500 operations
a year, many involving congenital anomalies, like spina bifida,
while other operations correct developing problems like brain
tumors, craniosynostosis (a condition involving the skull which
impedes brain growth), and seizures. In adults, he treats
patients with trigeminal neuralgia, an extremely painful
condition of the face.
At first, he considered keeping his illness
from his patients and the public. "But [information] began to
leak, and the rumors were unbelievable," he said. "People said I
had a brain tumor, I had lung cancer, that I was going to die
imminently, and that I was already dead."
To set the record straight, he issued a
statement through the hospital explaining his health condition.
"And the newspaper printed it on the obituary page," he says
with a chuckle. "Within a few days, we were getting all kinds of
condolence letters. People saw the story on the obituary page,
and they thought I was dead."
Six weeks after his diagnosis, Carson
underwent surgery in an attempt to remove the cancer. "[The
process] wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be," he says.
"I knew everybody, and I knew they were going to take care of me
and make things as easy as possible."
Being a patient, Carson says, taught him how
to treat his own patients better. "I try harder now to make sure
patients have as much information as possible, not only pre-op,
but during the course of their recuperation," he says. "I try to
make sure even more now that they know what to expect from day
one, day two, day three, from week one, week two, week three."
During the course of Carson's surgery and
recovery, he had questions for his medical team. He says he took
a very active role in the process, looking at his own scans and
x-rays, even seeking second opinions.
Carson found out within hours of the surgery
that the operation had been a success. But he also learned
something that rocked him to his foundation: The cancer was only
one millimeter (as close as it could get) from breaking through
his prostate gland, and spreading to other parts of his body.
During his recovery, he received so many
flowers, cards and visitors that a security guard had to be
stationed outside his room. "The outpouring was unbelievable,"
he says. "Bags of cards and letters, everybody from the janitors
in the hospital to President and Mrs. Bush, saying that they
were praying for me. I was getting letters from church
congregations, the Netherlands, Australia, Africa, South
America. I realized then that a lot of people cared about me."
Months after the surgery, Carson has had no
complications. He did not have to undergo chemotherapy or
radiation treatments. "I'm totally not worried," he says.
"There's no chance of it coming back [after removal of the
prostate gland], unless I grow another prostate. That would
really be a story."
Carson said his life-and-death battle with
cancer has opened his eyes to the disease. "I was always very
interested in cancer. I was spending a lot of time researching
therapies for cancers that exist, now I'm looking more at root
causes of cancer and how it can be prevented," he says. "It made
me much more aware of the whole epidemiology of cancer, and
particularly prostate cancer, which is rising rapidly in our
society, as is breast cancer."
With one in every three men getting prostate
cancer, and one in every eight women getting breast cancer,
Carson believes there is cause for great concern. "There
certainly seems to be some dietary connection to cancer rates,"
says Carson, who now emphasizes how it important it is for men,
particularly Black men, to get their prostate checked. "And
clearly there are environmental issues. Pesticides, water
contamination, the list goes on and on. It seems that the more
highly sophisticated society gets, the more cancer there is. We
have to find better ways to control it."
Carson changed his diet to include mostly
organic fruits and vegetables. He says stress also has a direct
correlation to cancer, one possible reason why neurosurgeons
have a much shorter life expectancy than the average population.
"I tried to really cut back on stress," says the doctor, who
continues to perform surgery almost every day he's at work. "Now
I get in at 7 a.m. and go home now at 6:15 p.m. every day.
Before it was 8 p.m. Now everybody knows that I'm leaving at
6:15. Unless there is a dire emergency, I'm out of here."
Since returning to work, Carson says he has
learned to manage his time better, getting the same things done
and managing to get home earlier. "I feel much more relaxed," he
says. "I'm not so tired ... I can spend much more quality time
with my family."
That quality time includes walks with his wife
and enjoying his passion shooting pool. He continues his busy
public speaking engagements, many times traveling across the
country several times a week to speak to medical groups, schools
and business leaders.
Carson says his previously strong faith has
only increased since his battle with prostate cancer. He says he
asked God for strength to make it through his surgery, as he
does with every surgery that he performs. "I pray before every
surgery," he says. "I figure if He created the body, He sure
knows how to fix it." |