Hearts & minds
Gator alum and pediatric neurosurgeon Krystal Tomei shows brain surgery requires skill and compassion
ith her head bent forward in concentration and fingers working vigorously, Krystal Tomei, MD ’06, first shaves off a small section of hair on her patient’s head — just at the point of incision.
Using the remainder of the 16-year-old girl’s straight, dark brown locks, Tomei creates several braids. Tomei, a pediatric neurosurgeon at University Hospitals Rainbow Babies & Children’s Hospital in Cleveland, understands that no teenager wants to return to class after winter break with half a head of hair.
“When my patients come to me, they’re scared and vulnerable, so I do anything that I can to keep them feeling as normal as possible,” she says. “You could say, ‘It’s brain surgery. What’s shaving a little bit of hair going to do?’ But when I talk to my patients, it’s a much bigger deal to them than we give them credit for. Since it matters to them, it matters to me.”
UF College of Medicine Dean Michael L. Good, MD, awarded Dr. Tomei with the UF Alumni Association 2017 Outstanding Young Alumnus Award.
Photo by Hannah Pietrick/University Relations
Tomei is one of three alums from the UF College of Medicine to receive this year’s UF Alumni Association Outstanding Young Alumnus Award. She was recognized for strides she’s made in the decade since receiving her medical degree. The impact Tomei leaves on her patients — newborns to high school students, some of whom she follows into adulthood — is a product of her compassionate bedside manner, coupled with an efficient, encyclopedic understanding of neuroscience.
“I love what I do,” the Reinberger endowed director in pediatric neurological surgery says. “It’s the only thing I could’ve seen myself doing.”
The blue walls of Tomei’s office are lined with framed certificates, plaques and photos arranged in neat rows. Hung just to the left of her master’s of public health degree from Harvard University is a photograph of an alligator at UF’s Lake Alice, its eyes and snout rising above the water to greet the viewer. A few inches farther left, a corkboard displays photos and greeting cards from patients.
Tomei, born in Omaha, Nebraska, and raised in Orlando, Florida, recalls receiving a Christmas card from a mother whose son she treated for a prenatal condition.
“In her card, she said she considers me an extended part of her family,” she says. “That feels pretty awesome.”
Left: The architectural design of University Hospitals Rainbow Babies & Children's Hospital reflects the sense of hope and joy shared by its patients and staff. Right: Krystal Tomei, MD '06, poses in the operating room in Cleveland.
Photo courtesy of University Hospitals/Photo by Keith Berr
Tomei draws inspiration from her time as a student at the UF College of Medicine and says she learned about the importance of empathy from former senior associate dean for educational affairs Robert Watson, MD ’69.
“He genuinely cared about our success,” Tomei says. “Seeing the impact that his interest had on me made me want to carry that forward with residents and students I work with.”
Dori Hauser, the patient whose hair was braided, has been under Tomei’s care for more than six months to treat her Chiari malformation, which occurs when the cerebellar tonsils sit below the skull, causing a blockage of spinal fluid flow at the brain’s base. Tomei likens the condition to holding one’s thumb over the end of a running hose — the water spurts out around the thumb with great pressure rather than flowing normally.
For Hauser, this meant debilitating headaches, numbness in her hands and loss of fine motor control. Hauser’s surgery in December restored normal spinal fluid flow around her brain. She says Tomei’s communication style and expertise gave her a sense of trust.
Left: Baby Leah's check-up with Dr. Tomei includes a few smiles and laughs. Right: Dori Hauser, left, and Dr. Tomei share a special patient-doctor bond.
Photo courtesy of University Hospitals/Photo courtesy of the Hauser family
“She is the first pediatric doctor who talked to me, not my parents. She made me feel safe,” she says. “You can sense her confidence when she enters the room. She’s not arrogant. She’s powerful.”
There’s a saying among Tomei’s colleagues: “Eat, sleep and use the bathroom when you can.”
With typical days lasting 10 to 12 hours, Tomei is forced to multitask and switch gears with each chirp of her phone. Before leaving her office for the clinic, she grabs treats from her motivation jars: one sweet, one salty, one savory. Tomei’s office opens onto the Rainbow Babies & Children’s Hospital Trisha O’Brien Pavilion, a communal gathering space for patients and families. It’s an environment akin to Wonka’s inventing room. Lever-and-pulley displays whir and buzz as Tomei hustles past purple staircases and into the elevator, painted to resemble a leafy bush. As she walks, she answers emails, fields questions from peers and schedules appointments for later.
On an average clinic day, Tomei sees 20 patients. She has a few minutes in between each visit, which she uses to eat lunch, enter notes from her last visit and review the case for her next patient. She calls her career demanding but ultimately satisfying.
“A bad day for me can be horrible and emotionally taxing,” she says. “When I look at what I’ve accomplished on good days, there is far more good than bad. Knowing the difference I’ve made on the good days is what keeps me going.”
In a small, white examination room overlooking the snow-capped towers of University Hospital, Tomei bounces a toddler on her knee while explaining her recommended plan of action to his parents. After answering every question the parents could think to ask, she turns to the child: “Is that OK, buddy?” His cheeks flush as a smile spreads over his face. He nods to Tomei enthusiastically.
“What I do is so nuanced, and the areas I’m working around can either improve someone’s life or devastate them,” Tomei says. “The understanding and respect that these families place in my hands maintains the feeling that I must be at the top of my game. I’ll never lose that idea that this is someone’s child, and I can impact their life forever.”
