Rhona MacDonald tells the inspirational tale of this physicist, researcher, and soon to be medical student
Daniel Strother has had more mountains to climb than most to get into medicine. It is a testament to his determination and strength of character that on the 18 September 2002 he will at last begin at medical school.
He always wanted to be a doctor but narrowly missed being accepted for medical school the first time around. So he studied physics at Leeds University instead. His dream to become a doctor, however, was not dampened during this time. After gaining his degree, he was accepted onto the graduate entry programme at St George's Hospital Medical School, London after passing the required Graduate Australian Medical School Admission Test (GAMSAT).1
What's so unusual about that? Over 100 such graduates have had a similar experience at St George's over the past two years.1 Well, two weeks after passing the exam, Dan (as he prefers to be known) fell while winter ice climbing on Ben Nevis when the lower part of a rock broke off around the gear which was holding him. His girlfriend Emily could only watch in horror from the other end of the rope as he plummeted down the mountain. Fortunately, she had her mobile phone with her and, even more fortunately, got a signal so she could call for help.
Within half an hour Dan was being airlifted by the Lochabar Mountain Rescue Team to the emergency department in Fort William. The department there has much experience with such events and has its own specialist in spinal injuries.
Initially Dan was not told anything and Emily (then a fourth year medical student) knew the diagnosis before he did when she saw the results of the x ray. Fractured T12 and L1: Daniel was paraplegic.
The next day Dan was airlifted to the Southern General Hospital, Glasgow, where he had titanium rods inserted in his back. He stayed there a week before being airlifted (yet again) to Pinderfields Hospital in Wakefield (the Yorkshire Regional Spinal Injuries Unit.)
The six month stay at Pinderfields was long and tough. Throughout the first month he was still in terrible pain. He describes it "as like having a spear in my back." He was on a concoction of opiates and other analgesia to help control this, and the terrible neuropathic pain that was now plaguing him. Cruel dreams occurred during this time, he recalls. "I kept dreaming that I could walk. I would wake up in the morning still thinking I could and try to get out of bed."
Rehabilitation was a slow process. He was frustrated because he "wanted to get off my backside but couldn't" and unfortunately got a natal cleft pressure sore. He is now able to get up on calipers and crutches every day though he admits to having some "wobbly moments."
Despite having multiple reasons to feel depressed and sorry for himself, this is not Dan's style. In the first few weeks some of his friends and relatives viewed his life as being "over" while Dan was just as determined as ever to pursue his goal of becoming a doctor.
Just before his discharge from Pinderfields he was due to have an informal interview with the dean of St George's, Patricia Hughes; the selection interviews had been in April while Dan was still quite ill. He says, "She was very supportive and suggested that I start a year later than planned. I had to undergo the selection interview and have an occupational health assessment but that was it."
So did Dan sit around and mope for a year? Not likely. Putting his physics to good use, he started research in medical physics continuing his MSc working in obstetrics straight away after discharge from hospital with Nigel Simpson, a consultant obstetrician in Leeds.
This has been a very exciting time as they have pioneered a birth predictor monitor which you may have read about recently in some of the British broadsheets. Dan explained patiently that it can predict when a woman will go into labour by analysing the nature of her uterine contractions relying on software which Dan wrote.
The staff at the unit have followed Nigel Simpson's lead and taken Dan's circumstances in their stride. In fact, Dan is preparing for his next career move by going to theatre on his calipers and crutches to observe caesarean sections, "There will be some surgeons out there who are not used to having someone like me in their theatre. I want to get used to the theatre environment, showing that it is possible and not a problem."
But it is not just other people's attitude to his wheelchair that Dan has to take into account, it's also his own: "You have to be confident, charming, willing and able, and up front about it. Just get on with it really. I tend to have quite an aggressive attitude towards obstacles and don't accept the word 'can't'. Instead I just have to think a bit harder about how I am going to do it and accept that it might take a bit longer." He obviously practises what he preaches as he has just driven to Hungary and back (a round trip of over 4000 km) in his converted Ford Focus and goes down the escalators on the London underground backwards in his wheelchair.
Dan also believes that he has a lot to bring to medicine because of his experience. He will have a great deal of insight and empathy for his patients and he will also know what you should absolutely not say to patients. For example, a student physiotherapist told him the week after his fall that "he would never walk again" and an orthopaedic surgeon told him that "he was a man so he could take it."
He understandably does not want to be defined by his wheelchair but knows that there will always be those who don't think he can become a doctor because of the practical implications: "Some people think that you can't do anything. If someone has a cardiac arrest, the first thing you do is shout for help." However, he has been undergoing intense rehabilitation to regain any small but useful lost function and hopes that one day he might be able to use ankle calipers.
When I ask him what his advice would be to others who might one day find themselves in a similar situation, he answers without hesitation, "Go for it. Don't give up on your dreams and never accept no for an answer."
As I watch him wheel up the heaving London street towards the British Museum (he has time to kill before he gets the train back to Leeds), I have no doubt whatsoever that Daniel Strother will always follow his own advice. I just hope that other people don't make it harder for him.2