Mark DeGroot is a renowned thoracic surgeon. The Canadian-born surgeon spent most of his professional career working in South Africa. He spoke to Liam Voorma about the pressures of his career, and how he finds balance in life.
Mark DeGroot almost didn’t make the cut to study medicine.
“Funny enough, I was told I didn’t have the English skills to do it,” says the Canadian-born Mark. The Canadian entrance exam to study medicine worked slightly differently to South Africa’s, he says. There, instead of interviews, a computer decides your fate, based entirely on scores.
He made it in, though, and today, the thoracic surgeon is renowned for his expertise in the field of heart and lung surgery.
Growing up in the rural outskirts of Winnipeg, Canada, Mark didn’t have the advantages of tutors, and attended some of the more marginal schools. For Mark, this meant that if he could get into medicine from that background, he was perhaps more streetwise.
“I learnt how to study on my own without people feeding me information,” says Mark, who studied medicine at University Manitoba, Winnipeg.
Kevin Mark DeGroot at his home within the Cape suburbs, located near his part-time work at University of Cape Town private hospital. “He’s been known as an exceptional surgeon in his field in the Western Cape and all throughout South Africa, but I personally know him as an admirable grandfather and a personal hero in my life,” says Juliet White, his granddaughter who resides with him in Cape Town. PHOTO: Liam Voorma
Starting out in trauma
Upon completion, in 1979, Mark originally went into the field of general surgery, which focused primarily on abdominal injuries. But for Mark, this was not enough.
“My initial career path was to do trauma. And then chest surgery,” he says.
Mark did a year of research into heart injuries and trauma, and delivered a paper to the American College of Surgeons Trauma Fellowship competition in San Antonio.
“I became the first non-American to win,” he says.
This gave Mark the opportunity to work at one of the big trauma centres within the country. He chose Washington DC.
“I hated every minute of it,” he says. “American surgeons don’t deserve the roles given to them on TV.”
After Washington, Mark spent a year in England, until he was given a post in Durban in 1987. There he began working under a man named Ben le Roux, who made a lasting impact on his career.
“He was the most brilliant person I’d ever met,” recalls Mark. “After you work with somebody like that, they’re sort of the benchmark. Everybody you worked with thereafter, struggles to live up to that.”
‘Never become overly involved’
Mark has now worked with patients for over 25 years, and has been a thoracic surgeon since 2001. He works part-time at the University of Cape Town (UCT) private hospital, as well as being on-call at various hospitals within the Western Cape should his expertise be required.
Over the years, he has learned to navigate the myriad of ethical decision making that his career demands. His job often leaves him in situations with high consequences.
“You put your reputation on the line every time you do a surgical case,” explains Mark.
In his case, it’s not just prescribing medicine and hoping for the best. “It’s a very tense profession where complications will occur,” he says.
Mark raised a question: If a patient wants you to attempt a procedure that has a very low probability of being successful, but would make you money, would you do the procedure or talk them out of it?
For Mark the answer is the latter. He believes in informing his patients of all measurable risks before making a decision.
“Some people would take any amount of risk to get a single chance of survival. Others will take no risk, even if it’s in their best interest,” Mark adds.
Working with patients, one always has to find balance between remaining empathetic, yet not getting too involved, says Mark.
The need to be distant has a far deeper meaning, he says, explaining that a doctor must be able to walk away from a situation. “If you become dysfunctional, then you’re not doing anybody any good anymore. It’s a fine art to get right, and not many people do,” says Mark.
Where he struggled most with this was during the first year of the Covid-19 pandemic.
“It was as close to hell on earth as you ever want to see,” he says.
Mark had to assist at Covid-19 Intensive Care Units (ICU) in Constantia a few times. It was the most “bizzare” circumstance he’d ever seen, he says.
“We all knew – medically, at that point in time – as soon as you end up in the ICU, you have an 80% to 90% chance of dying. There was nothing the doctors could do,” says Mark.
Mark explains that nothing they were doing at the time made any difference. Doctors and nurses had to become extremely detached from their patients. People who lacked oxygen, were terrified, and became very agitated, says Mark.
“It affected some of the doctors severely,” he says.
Covid-19 had changed everybody’s idea of healthcare, says Mark. “Everybody is still holding on to at least one memory… hopefully in your lifespan you won’t have to go through anything like that.”
‘And so we dance’
Mark’s wife, Dr Jacqueline May Hall, is an oncologist at Vincent Pallotti Hospital.
The two of them have found a unique way of destressing.
“We took some dance lessons together and it mushroomed into learning ballroom dance with professionals,” says Mark. They now have a dance studio in their Cape Town home, and routinely dance there.
Mark DeGroot was the vice-president of the South African Dance Foundation between 2006 and 2009. He and his wife (not pictured) competed both locally and internationally at ballroom dance competitions, says DeGroot. PHOTO: Supplied/Mark DeGroot
Although he states that they’re not that good, the couple have competed overseas in dancing competitions, and have been crowned South African senior ballroom dancing champions.
“Previously, when we danced together it was our passion and primary form of ‘stress relief’. Now, since we dance with professionals, it’s more about the exercise and stress relief to great music,” says Hall.
Mark believes it keeps the two of them “absolutely humble” as it allows them to interact with, and compete against, people who are naturally gifted in dancing.
Mark comments that doctors are very poor patients themselves, and often don’t look after their own mental health. Yet, what Mark and his wife have found, is an expressive “therapeutic outlet” in the form of dance, he says.
Kevin Mark DeGroot’s home dance studio accompanied by balancing polls. PHOTO: Liam Voorma