In Memory of an Extraordinary Colleague: Dr David Baxter

Mr David Baxter was a remarkable gentleman whom I had the privilege of working with during my time as a Neurosurgical Registrar at the Western General Hospital in Edinburgh. Although David and I worked together for only a relatively short period, he left a lasting impression on me. David was a gifted and dedicated young neurosurgeon who appeared to have everything going for him. His curriculum vitae was one that many could only dream of. He had published numerous papers in peer-reviewed journals and held research positions at Monash University in Australia and at the world-renowned Karolinska Institute in Sweden, where he completed his PhD in brain tumours. He also spent time in Oxford. His achievements extended far beyond medicine. David was also an accomplished athlete who represented Australia at the 2002 Commonwealth Games, where he won a bronze medal. Yet behind these extraordinary accomplishments was an even more extraordinary story of courage. The beginning of David's neurosurgical training in Edinburgh had to be delayed while he underwent extensive treatment for metastatic melanoma. The physical and emotional burden of such treatment could easily have broken a person's resolve. But not David. He returned to his training and continued as though nothing had happened. He never allowed his illness to define him, diminish his commitment or weaken his sense of purpose. As a colleague, David was dependable and meticulous. Whatever task he undertook, he completed it to the highest standard and to the very best of his ability. As a surgeon, he was equally impressive — skilful, composed and naturally gifted. One particular incident remains vivid in my memory. David came to see me one day and asked whether he could take the following day off for what he described as a "minor operation" to remove a newly discovered lump from his neck. Fearing the worst, I agreed immediately. I assumed he would need at least a day or two afterwards to recover. The following morning, at approximately eleven o'clock, I was astonished to see him back on the ward. I asked him what had happened. He replied, quite matter-of-factly: "Yes, I had my operation this morning. Now it is time for me to work." That was David. Even while facing an illness that would have overwhelmed many others, his commitment to his patients and his profession remained unwavering. Sadly, only a few months later, David succumbed to his illness after the melanoma spread to his brain. There was a painful irony in the fact that a neurosurgeon who had devoted his life to understanding and treating diseases of the brain was ultimately taken by one. I admired David greatly. He was a rare individual: intellectually brilliant, technically accomplished, physically gifted and, above all, profoundly courageous. He embodied what it meant to be not only an exceptional doctor, but also an exceptional human being. I hope his story offers strength to those facing adversity and encouragement to young doctors working under immense pressure. David's life reminds us that courage does not always announce itself loudly. Sometimes, it is seen in quietly returning to the ward after surgery, continuing to serve others and refusing to allow hardship to extinguish one's purpose. Dr David S. Baxter, MBBS, BSc (Hons), PhD — 27 March 1977 to 2 July 2010. We all enter this world in much the same way. What distinguishes us is what we choose to do with the time we are given. David used his time with courage, excellence and service — and those who knew him are better for it.