I gradually found my way to plastic surgery. My father was an internist, and unlike many of my peers, he never pushed me toward medicine. On the contrary, when I decided to pursue this career path on my own, he made a point of showing me the less glamorous sides of the profession – the hours spent on hospital duty, sleepless nights with patients, the constant need for further education, and the fact that sometimes you carry your patients’ worries home with you.
After graduating from the Faculty of General Medicine at Charles University in Prague, I started working at the surgical clinic at Pod Petřín, where I met Associate Professor Vrabec. It was he who introduced me to the beauty, fascination, and creativity of plastic surgery. Moreover, this field allowed me to apply some of my creative qualities, which I probably inherited from my mother – an artist. And so, in my search for what I wanted to become, I gradually joined the ranks of those fortunate enough to find work that is both a passion and a joy.
Another turning point in my life came after the Velvet Revolution, when I had the opportunity to go to Australia. After a three-month trial period, I was allowed to work there as a plastic surgeon – first in a municipal hospital and then, during my second year, in a university hospital. It was an enormous personal and professional experience. I was surprised by how deeply my thinking had been shaped by the pre-revolution era and how difficult it was to shift certain ingrained patterns and attitudes.
For the first time, I also experienced the sense of satisfaction that decency and honesty are not mistaken for naivety in that society, but rather recognized as genuine values. I’m deeply grateful to my parents for instilling these principles in me. Professionally, I was given an incredible opportunity to gain extensive experience in my field. A great advantage was the number of consultants (senior colleagues at the level of department heads) I could work with, whose only criteria for sharing their knowledge – apart from basic decency – was whether a person was teachable.
Later, I succeeded in a competitive selection process and secured a position as a plastic surgeon at the prestigious St. Andrew’s Centre for Plastic Surgery in Billericay, England, where I spent another fulfilling year of my life. After the open, friendly, and relaxed Australians, I came to know the customs of good old – and slightly reserved – England. In both countries, I met many emigrants, some of whom became lifelong friends. At times, it felt like I was living in a scene straight out of a novel by Erich Maria Remarque.
In 1995, I emigrated back home to Prague and began working at the Central Military Hospital (ÚVN). For the next 15 years, I was fully devoted to reconstructive surgery and hand surgery. At the same time, I was fortunate to be offered the position of assistant professor at the First Faculty of Medicine, Charles University, where I could share my experience with medical students at the Department of Plastic Surgery at Bulovka University Hospital – where I still work today. Since 1995, I have also been actively involved in aesthetic surgery through my private practice. So, at one point, I was juggling three jobs at once… It was a workaholic chapter of my life, but one richly filled with work that brought me joy.
Among the downsides of this intense period, however, was the fact that I dedicated all my time to patients and didn’t pursue further academic advancement – and my marriage also ended. Today, aesthetic medicine makes up the majority of my practice, while hand surgery, particularly Dupuytren’s disease, has become more of a hobby.
In the midst of all this, I once again spent a few years regularly flying to England and Ireland for work every two weeks, focusing solely on aesthetic medicine. Compared to my previous stay in England, I became a firsthand witness to the globalization of an already cosmopolitan London. On top of that, besides plastic surgery, I also studied the roots of Celtic culture right in Dublin. Modern-day Ireland – it’s a blend of friendliness and ruggedness, just like its landscape shaped by the Gulf Stream.
In this current stage of my life, I have found happiness again in marriage, and I haven’t burned out professionally. Being a surgeon still brings me great joy; aesthetic procedures are, for me, a part of psychosomatic medicine, and with a scalpel in hand, I try to bring happiness to those I can help.
Yet, there are moments when I feel like an emigrant in my own country – a witness to the decline of a degenerating society ruled by consumerism and money, further afflicted by various diseases and senseless violence.