Il prof. Franco Corcione: «Ecco la mia vita da chirurgo, in sala operatoria nessuna seconda chance»

Whatever he did, he had to set a good example. Even when he went to the beach, he—Francesco Corcione, known to all as Franco, former director of the general surgery division at Monaldi Hospital and an undisputed pioneer of the most innovative laparoscopic techniques—had the task of swimming well, completing his summer homework on time, taking care not to burn his back, and respecting the house rules. Being the eldest of five siblings, in addition to a few advantages (apparently few), brought a host of hassles, which, however, he endured with meticulous patience. Born in “’o Cavone ’e Piazza Dante”—where his father, a respected wine merchant, kept house and shop, working tirelessly from seven in the morning until ten at night—young Corcione grew up serious and intelligent, always carrying with him that small burden: a good example. “A family rule, which later inspired my entire life path. Mom and dad were two people culturally modest, but farsighted and witty. She raised our five children, he ran a wine and olive oil shop a stone's throw from home. They both knew they had to get us off the streets: even though we lived there, we had to stay away from Cavone; the risk of a bad outcome was too high. And so they decided to get us away in the only way possible: by having us attend a private school in another part of the city: the Bianchi Institute. And the cost of schooling, the surgeon continues, was beyond question: "I had to prove to my brothers that everything had to be done seriously and with commitment." Reliability and commitment, then. Then the revelation of a career in medicine: "Yes, that's right: it was a revelation. Actually, two. The first was when a pediatrician came to our house to visit us sick children: he arrived in a car, very elegant, all perfumed, and with a nice watch on his wrist. 'You can make a good living being a pediatrician,' I thought to myself. 'I'll almost try it too.'" The second, however, was when the surgeon who operated on my grandmother for an ulcer emerged from the operating room holding the part of her stomach he'd removed. I was 16, and in that moment I realized that a man could eliminate what was making another man sick and give him back his life. I decided that this would be my profession, and I'll never forget my father when, behind the counter of his wine and oil shop, looking me straight in the eye, he said: "I wear the black coat, yours must be white." I remember him already calling me Manson, the provincial doctor who was the protagonist of "The Citadel"—a 1964 drama—that he and I always watched together. Alberto Lupo played him, and it recounted the moving adventures of Dr. Andrew Manson, busy working in a small mining village in Wales. My brother still calls me that today." A life dedicated to surgery: "I often say that a surgeon, a real one, is a strange animal. He has an innate sense of duty towards others, always feeling the need to give them something, at all costs." Almost a missionary, in short. "No. But certainly a man who lives with great responsibilities, human and material, from which he can never shirk." Who is the good surgeon? "The one who, in a few instants, is capable of making a decision that will determine the life or death of a person." Instants? "Exactly. If a major vein tears while you're operating, you have no choice: either you decide what to do in real time or the patient dies." Clarity and composure, then. "But also rationality and intuition. In many cases, there is no second chance. By Maria Chiara Aulisio With the collaboration of Achille Strombetta Coordinated by Marco Piscitelli 00:00 Trailer 01:40 How I Discovered My Passion 03:40 The Turning Point at 14 04:51 My First Surgery 07:40 The Surgeon's Egocentricity 08:26 The Surgeon's Private Life 09:30 Relaxation 10:53 Strengths and Weaknesses