LUCY SCHULTZE

Keith Melancon, MD

Keith Melancon, MD, has traded the delicate precision of a scalpel for the clumsy grip of a fist-size pen.

But in losing his surgical career as a result of brain injury, he's gained new insight into his patients' experience — and also a new reason to focus on the things that matter.

A partner in Southern Bone & Joint Specialists PA in Hattiesburg, Melancon lives with the lingering effects of a brain tumor, which was diagnosed and removed in the summer of 2007. Although he survived the cancer scare, he was left with a form of neglect syndrome which prevents his mind from registering his right hand even exists, requiring focused effort for simple things like shaking hands.

"My penmanship is terrible — but it was like that beforehand," said Melancon, downplaying the ways the condition has altered his life.

"It is a little weird, because I have to think all the time to tell my right hand what to do," he said. "But it's not too big a hindrance."

It certainly hasn't slowed him down.

Melancon still sees 60 to 70 patients per day in non-surgical orthopedic practice. He's a leading member in his group, which includes a dozen orthopedists, three anesthesiologists and a physiatrist. He also serves as current president of the Mississippi Orthopaedic Society.

The orthopedic specialty is one he pursued after getting to know orthopedic surgeons as a member of the Louisiana State University football team. He began working for an orthopedist while in college and also worked in research for the orthopedic department at LSU School of Medicine. After receiving his medical degree there, he completed an orthopedic residency at the University of Mississippi Medical Center and has practiced in Hattiesburg since 1996.

He started out focusing on hand and upper-extremity procedures, an area of need at that time in Hattiesburg. But after Rocco Barbieri, MD, joined the practice with a focus on those areas, Melancon moved on to primarily foot and ankle surgery.

That work enabled him in 2004 to join Barbieri in an effort to correct an acquired foot deformity in a man from Côte d'Ivoire in West Africa. After being contacted about the man's need, the surgeons worked free-of-charge in facilities provided by Wesley Medical Center.

"It really made you aware of how different our healthcare systems were," he said. "Even though he had already had surgery, he still had dirt in his wound from six years before."

Four years later, the man is now playing soccer in his home country and plans to become a doctor, according to staff who would like to see a reunion between doctor and patient.

Since then, Melancon has stepped away from his surgical practice — and taken his own turn in the role of patient. He underwent surgery for tumor removal in San Francisco at the advice of neurosurgeon friends.

"There are probably lots of folks in this state who could have done the job just as well," he said. "But it was nice to just kind of be away from everything. We received a wonderful outpouring of support, which was almost overwhelming."

Melancon's experience on the patient's side has allowed him to think more about how his clinic's systems could work better for the people receiving care.

"When you're here doing day-to-day work as a surgeon, you rarely get to see how you can make the patience experience better," he said.

"Now that I get to be the patient, I know how boring it can be when all you've got to look at is the same magazine from two months ago."

Recognizing that the need to have four waiting patients means a dull half-hour for each of them, Melancon is now looking at ways of making that time less of a waste. Among the options: television, radio and video games, including educational videos and health channels that could help reinforce messages.

"We'll be able to say, 'You'll be in here a few minutes. What would you like to watch?'" he said.

Outside the clinic, Melancon is mostly likely to be found outdoors — watching a football game, out on his farm riding a tractor or joining his kids for a round of fishing in their backyard pond.

He has also taken on a side teaching job for implant company Synthes Inc., teaching a course to its product-development team.

As he continues his practice at Southern Bone & Joint Specialists, working alongside his colleagues can be like looking in on a world that's still attractive, yet one in which he knows he no longer belongs.

"On occasion I will scrub in with one of my partners, to remember what it was like," he said. "But I've found other things can be a lot more rewarding.

"I get to spend more time with my patients now, and I get to spend more time with my family, too. God's got a plan, so I'm not worried about it."

Melancon and his wife, Susan, have three children: Drew, 11, Dalton, 9, and Ayme, 7.