Farid Srour believes that orthopaedic surgeon Edward McFarland might have saved his life. “He is the reason I’m here at Johns Hopkins,” says Srour. “Maybe that saved my life.”

Recently, Srour, who is in his 90s, experienced unbearable hip pain. He immediately thought to call McFarland, who had treated Srour’s shoulder in the past. Srour’s companion, Barbara Pantos, drove him to the Johns Hopkins Emergency Department. “It was a miracle that I told Barbara, let’s go to Hopkins. I want to see McFarland. And when we arrived, they found out what the trouble was. Had I not done that, I believe I would have died.”

Months earlier, Srour had fractured his hip, which was repaired at his local hospital. Now, he was experiencing excruciating pain. McFarland, director of the Division of Shoulder Surgery, told Srour to come to the hospital immediately. In the emergency department, radiographs showed a screw protruding from the bone into Srour’s pelvis, which was ultimately treated by Paul Khanuja, chief of adult reconstruction.

Pantos describes McFarland as “the lightning force that organized everything,” helping ensure the timely and exceptional care for which The Johns Hopkins Hospital is known.

A recent article in the journal BMJ Quality & Safety analyzed patient complaints about their health care experiences. It found that nearly 14% of complaints were related to “communication.” In Srour’s experience, a single, dedicated physician like McFarland can be the key to avoiding such problems. But even beyond McFarland and Khanuja, Pantos says, “we’ve had such wonderful experiences here. They really care for each individual patient, and they spend time listening. They’re experts in their field. This is the most magnificent place to be.”

Srour came to the U.S. alone in 1946 to enroll in college. After years working as a carpenter, ditch digger and taxi driver, he says, “I graduated from taxi driving to real estate somehow.” He bought his first small property in Wheaton, Maryland, and then another. Soon he was involved in commercial development and continues working to this day, even as his four children, three of whom are physicians, are retiring.

His oldest son graduated from the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine and introduced Srour to his teachers, who gradually became Srour’s doctors. “My son found McFarland, and that was a lucky break. He is a wonderful man,” Srour says. When he first saw McFarland with shoulder pain that Srour’s local doctor said would require surgery, McFarland recommended nonoperative treatment, which ultimately healed the shoulder. That experience instilled in Srour deep confidence in McFarland’s clinical judgment.

A self-described wrestler and someone who ran before there were running shoes (“I used to run in my dress shoes. And in the woods.”), Srour recalls people teasing him about his commitment to physical activity. But he’s not done yet. “I want to leave a path,” says Srour of his donations to support The Johns Hopkins Hospital. “I’m still not finished, so you never know….”