William Taylor, M.D., F.A.C.S.

If There's A Who's Who Of The Most 
Unforgettable Personalities, This Longtime 
Surgeon Would Be At The Top Of The List.

After devoting several decades to helping people through plastic surgery, he is still bursting with energy and eclectic interests.  On my recent visit, the atmosphere crackled with excitement as Dr. Taylor regaled me with remembrances of his early years as a physician proctored by elite surgeons, his penchant for cooking (I can’t wait to try his international gourmet recipes), his collection of rare plants, a mini bonsai forest, and his Indiana Jones-ish adventures in Afghanistan during the Russian occupation.

At an age when many people consider retiring, Dr. Taylor was instead planning a “vacation” to Inner Mongolia to treat children with deformities such as cleft lips.  Not only will he be providing his services free, he is having to pay for the “privilege” of operating on each patient, on a most un-luxurious trip.  

Getting Up For Surgery

Always an individualist, Dr. Taylor knew from the age of 13 that he would become a doctor.  “I didn’t like taking orders, and I wanted to work for myself,” he recalls.

Dr. Taylor initially considered becoming a psychiatrist, but a short tour of duty in a mental hospital changed his mind.  While mulling over other specialties, he heard a plastic surgery instructor speak at a luncheon.  “He had a great sense of humor, and his work seemed to have a magical quality about it,” recounts Dr. Taylor.  “I went to hear him every chance I got, and that made up my mind.”

In 1956, Dr. Taylor arrived for his internship in West Palm Beach with a wife, two babies, and no money, but hey, there were coconut palms, sunshine and sandy beaches, so life was as good as it could be for an intern.  After two years of surgery residency in Oakland and Orlando, he was fortunate enough to join a pair of the best plastic surgeons of the time for two and a half year of preceptor ship.  (As the training option doesn’t exist today, most surgeons in residency miss out on the intense, one-on-one training he received.)

One of his mentors, Dr. Thomas Cronin, was the inventor of the silicone breast implant.  While studying “silastic,” a material that could be polymerized to variable degrees of softness/hardness, Dr. Cronin theorized about a shell, with a softer jelly-like filler made of the same material.  He conceptualized a complete, cohesive implant as the answer to a longstanding very difficult problem, and knew that he had hit upon it.  After 14 months of investigation and development (with occasional input from Dr. Taylor), the first silicone breast implant patient was operated on at the teaching hospital in Houston in February, 1962, with a packed audience of plastic surgeons, who knew they were witnessing surgical history being made.  Aside from the surgery, they were equally interested in the large tattoos on each of the patient’s breasts.

One Dentist, One Nurse, No Toilets

After 36 years and thousands of breast augmentations, Dr. Taylor staunchly believes in the efficacy and safety of the procedure when performed by skilled board certified plastic surgeons.   Not nearly as safe was his 1988 venture into Afghanistan, while war with the Russian invaders was still hot.

With each of the six volunteers paying $2500 for the privilege, Dr. Taylor, a dentist and a camp nurse from Pennsylvania, a Las Vegas female blackjack pit boss, a  Las Vegas firefighter, and a California college counselor traveled by 747 jet, bus, “puddle jumper” plane, and finally, captured Russian jeeps over unbelievable terrain for six days before arriving at a village with no water, electricity, roads, toilets (indoor or otherwise) - no nothing.  They encountered Russian helicopters and AK47-toting “road” bandits (there are no roads).  At one point Dr. Taylor reflected, “What is this 60-year-old San Diego surgeon doing stuffed in a jeep with six others, running through the desert dodging helicopter gunship, out bluffing armed bandits-for what - am I nuts?”

The intrepid doc had assumed that he would be working under the worst conditions and had planned accordingly.  “I had hoped for at least a concrete  floor, some light, a table, and running water.  I was lucky to have it all, except for the water, although the light source was only a small window.   Fortunately, I had brought everything I needed to do the surgery, so we were able to accomplish about a dozen operations on cleft lips and other deformities arising from injury and disease, all without electricity or running water. 

“There were no beds for sleeping , . . it just looked like, if you removed the jeeps and bicycles, it would have looked just like the times of the Bible.  I lost a pound a day for fifteen days, so it wasn’t all bad.”

A No-Expenses Paid “Vacation”