As a little boy from a tiny farming village near Mexicali, Mexico, Alfredo Quinones-Hinojosa, MD, used to love to stop by the local convenience store to pick up the latest edition of his favorite comic book, Kaliman, el Hombre Increible (Kaliman, the Incredible Man). He and his pals Martin and Efrain would pore over the exploits of the superhero, whose powers included scientific knowledge, fast healing, and telepathy. The young boy idolized this mystical, cerebral hero who dressed in white and wore a turban with a K emblazoned on it.

"Kaliman used meditation and psychic powers to travel through space. He was kind and good. He fought for people who had very little," recalls Dr. Quinones-Hinojosa, now a renowned brain surgeon known affectionately as Dr. Q by his patients. "He was a scientist. When I was a kid, I thought I was Kaliman. No question about it."

Freedom to Roam

The future doctor grew up on a small parcel of land "in the middle of nowhere," enjoying what he calls an exploratory life. "I used to go out in irrigation canals and catch crayfish and shrimp," he says. "I remember standing on the roof of our house, looking at the stars, and thinking I wanted to be an explorer." His father earned a modest wage at a gas station, but the family of eight-Dr. Q is the oldest of six children-didn't have much food and lived in a two-bedroom house. "The most important thing we had was family," says Dr. Q, who later credited his paternal grandmother, a local healer and midwife, for his compassion toward his patients.

Education was also important, and Dr. Q thrived at the local public school. He eventually graduated with a teaching license from a community college. But he was also restless, and he dreamed of a different future. By the time he was a teenager, he was spending summers traveling in the back of a tarp-covered pickup truck to the San Joaquin Valley in California to pick tomatoes and prepare cotton fields for harvest.

In California, Dr. Q quickly mastered machines and instruments. "I was able to drive a sophisticated moving picker with all kinds of sharp blades," he remembers. "I used to sit there like an astronaut, using my feet to control the machine." Soon, he was leveling land and digging ditches, moving irrigation pipes twice a day in mud up to his knees. He eventually became a foreman for a railroad company near Stockton, CA, where he welded, painted, and maintained tanks of sulfur. By age 19, he had permanently moved to the United States-as had much of his family, who lived in Northern California. "We all had to follow the jobs," Dr. Q says.

An Epiphany

Two years later, while working with the railroad company, Dr. Q got trapped in one of the tanks. He was repairing a safety valve, lost a piece of equipment in the tank, and fell in. Unable to avoid breathing in dangerous sulfur fumes, he kept losing consciousness while his brother-in-law, who worked with him, struggled to pull him out. Dr. Q was rushed to the hospital, where he regained consciousness. The doctors discharged him after determining that he had sustained no permanent injuries. But that life-threatening accident caused a shift in the 21-year-old's thinking: He was deeply grateful to be alive and armed with a new resolve to do something to help others.

"That accident taught me that I wanted to care for other human beings," he says. "To do that, I realized I would need to resume my education."

Dr. Q continued to work for the railroad company during the day. At night, he began studying English at the local community college. He also tutored Spanish-speaking students in math and science and joined the debate team with an eye toward improving his public speaking skills and command of English. After earning a scholarship to the University of California at Berkeley to study psychology, he quit the railroad job. Although he still labored over speaking and writing assignments in English, he excelled in calculus and chemistry.

A Different Direction 

Soon after arriving at Berkeley, Dr. Q found a mentor in the psychology department: Joe Martinez, PhD, who ran a neurobiology lab that intrigued the young student. By his senior year, Dr. Q knew he wanted to continue his education, but he wavered between law school and medical school. Ultimately, it was memories of his grandmother, the village healer and midwife, that inspired him to choose medicine. After completing an honors thesis in neuroscience, Dr. Q was encouraged by Dr. Martinez and Hugo Mora, the director of Berkeley's Hispanic Center of Excellence, to apply to Harvard Medical School. To his great surprise and delight, he was admitted.

At Harvard, Dr. Q met Edward Kravitz, PhD, whose neurobiology lab was well-known. The two men, who had experienced similar hardscrabble childhoods and a rapid rise from modest means-Dr. Kravitz grew up in the Bronx and was a Harvard professor by the time he was 30-"bonded instantly," says Dr. Q.

The former migrant worker continued to thrive in medical school. He immersed himself in research, received fellowships and other academic honors, and graduated with distinction. He also became a United States citizen and even gave the commencement speech for his graduating class.

From Harvard, Dr. Q moved back to California, where he completed his internship, residency, and some postdoctoral work at the University of California San Francisco (UCSF). While at UCSF, he made the decision to pursue neurosurgery, and in 2005 he moved to Johns Hopkins University to become a professor and surgeon specializing in brain cancer and pituitary tumors. He is currently the William J. and Charles H. Mayo professor and chair of neurologic surgery at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, FL.

A Natural Progression

Some of the things Dr. Q learned in the field have come in handy in his work in the operating room. For example, he relies on the skills he honed on the field pickers, where he used his feet to control machinery, when he takes his perch on a futuristic device he fondly calls the "Captain Kirk chair." He presses a pedal to control the zoom and tilt of the microscope during surgery.

Fighting a Villian 

Just like Kaliman, Dr. Q has devoted his career to wiping out a deadly foe. In Dr. Q's case, that foe is glioblastoma multiforme (GBM), the most common and aggressive form of brain cancer. For adults treated with chemotherapy and radiation, median survival is about a year and a half, according to the American Brain Tumor Association. In the Brain Tumor Stem Cell Research Laboratory at the Mayo Clinic, the neurosurgeon and his team use state-of-the-art tools to inhibit the malignant brain tumor-initiating cell that causes glioblastoma. "We are trying to unravel the mysteries of brain cancer migration," says Dr. Q.

One area of research currently underway looks at the use of stem cells from fat tissue to treat brain tumors. Ideally, patients would donate their fat tissue, which would be expanded in the laboratory and altered to express a therapeutic gene. The stem cells would then be reintroduced into the patient to selectively target and destroy brain tumor cells. "Every patient becomes a part of something much bigger, helping to find a cure for cancer in general. Our lab is working to arm cells from the body to fight cancer," Dr. Q explains.

Star Power

Dr. Q's team has received several grants from the National Institutes of Health. And his life story has caught the attention of Disney and Brad Pitt's Plan B production company, which is working on a biopic.

"I organized a neuroscience symposium in Mexico City, and it was like dealing with a rock star," says Joseph I. Sirven, MD, FAAN, professor of neurology at the Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale, AZ, and editor-in-chief of Epilepsy.com. "His charisma, humility, and commitment to his work are irresistible. The moment he arrived, the audience swelled to beyond 500, and a phalanx of cameras showed up. But he has not forgotten his past. He gives back. Some people who do very well don't remember where they came from and what propelled them."

He may be a rock star to some, but at home, Dr. Q is the mild-mannered husband of Anna, with whom he has two daughters (ages 19 and 12), one son (age 16), two dogs, and two cats. Dr. Q can even be found grocery shopping at the local Publix, smelling the tomatoes in the produce aisle. "It brings me back to working in the fields," he says.

Reaching Out

In 2011, Dr. Q co-founded Mission: BRAIN (Bridging Resources and Advancing International Neurosurgery), a nonprofit foundation that provides neurosurgical expertise and resources to patients, caregivers, and health care providers in underserved areas around the world. Teams have made trips to Mexico, the Philippines, and Haiti. A current goal is to take volunteers to the public hospital in Guadalajara, Mexico, to perform brain tumor surgeries on patients who cannot afford to travel to the Mayo Clinic in Florida.

"He's done beautiful work with his team to improve brain surgery," says Dr. Sirven. "And patients love him."

"Dr. Q tries to meet patients where they are," says Maisha T. Robinson, MD, MS, a neurologist and palliative care physician, and one of Dr. Q's colleagues at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville. "Many have received bad news about brain tumors. He tries to quell fears. He also has a collaborative spirit and appreciates the efforts of everyone, from the nutritionist to the rehab team."

His connection with patients is a source of pride for Dr. Q, and a skill he credits to his grandmother. "She taught me an important lesson about the treatment and care of patients," he says. "In all matters, the life and well-being of the patient must come first. She also had a tactile way of connecting with patients-by looking into their eyes, studying their smallest symptoms, and putting her hands on their shoulders to be encouraging and to share her powerful healing energy."

Still Exploring

Dr. Q says he still looks to the sky, as he did as a boy, contemplating the future. "I still feel the same way. I still want to accomplish so much," he says. "God gives people hope and allows me to find cures through science. I want to change the world, and I want to find a cure for brain cancer. And I want people to get care regardless of the color of their skin or their faith."

"Just like Kaliman, I do things out of my heart. I feel like I have an opportunity to help people," he says. "I do that with my scalpel and my hands and my knowledge."

Addressing Unequal Access

The United States is a beautiful country," says Alfredo Quinones-Hinojosa, MD, a neurosurgeon at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, FL. "But if you're poor, you still have less access to highly specialized care.

"In my field of neuroscience, we tend to live in a bubble," the brain surgeon adds. "We forget that many people can't get good care. To solve any problem, you have to be aware of it."

Dr. Quinones-Hinojosa—affectionately known to his patients as Dr. Q—co-founded Mission: BRAIN (Bridging Resources and Advancing International Neurosurgery; missionbrain.org ), a nonprofit foundation that aims to address disparities in brain cancer care in underserved areas, starting with his birthplace of Mexico. The foundation sends medical teams to areas in need to conduct advanced neurosurgical procedures and educate providers about advancements in surgical techniques and care. A goal of the foundation is to "create a network that links more and more surgeons and caregivers to hospitals and patients without the money, equipment, or training to treat difficult neurosurgical diseases."

digging into disparities 

Throughout his career, Dr. Q has been a mentor to many young medical students, including Debraj Mukherjee, MD, MPH, a fellow in the department of neurosurgery at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center and a representative of the American Association of Neurological Surgeons Young Neurosurgeons Committee.

"Health care disparities were interesting to me and to Dr. Q personally because we both came from immigrant families and we didn't always have the best medical care," says Dr. Mukherjee, who worked with Dr. Q on research at Johns Hopkins in 2009 and 2010. "My parents emigrated from India in the mid-1970s. Coming to a new land, if you don't speak the language or understand the culture, it's hard to figure out health care. Trying to choose health insurance, even for me as a brain surgeon, is difficult."

As part of their research on health care disparities, Dr. Mukherjee and Dr. Q conducted a retrospective analysis of the Nationwide Inpatient Sample (NIS), a large, comprehensive database comprising data on more than 7 million hospital stays in the United States, to find out whether certain factors such as age, sex, race, income, and neighborhood affected access to surgeries for brain cancer at high-volume centers.

The results, published in JAMA Surgery in 2010, showed that only 33 percent of patients with brain cancer had access to high-volume centers, which are associated with better outcomes. Patients who did not have access to high-volume centers were more likely to be older, Hispanic, and live in areas with more poverty.

raising awareness

In a 2013 study published in the Journal of Clinical Neuroscience, Dr. Mukherjee and colleagues found racial disparities in how Medicaid patients fared after brain tumor surgery. Data showed that black patients with meningioma—a slow-growing benign tumor on the meninges, the layer of tissue that lines the brain and the spinal cord-had higher complication rates. The data, Dr. Mukherjee and colleagues wrote, support the theory that health care disparities persist and that engaging minorities in appropriate post-operative care may help reduce these disparities and improve outcomes.

In another study, published in Pediatrics in October 2009, Dr. Mukherjee, Dr. Q, and colleagues looked at quality of neuro-oncologic care for pediatric patients. In their retrospective analysis, they found that patients who had less access to medical centers that handled a large volume of neurosurgery cases tended to be Hispanic and live in counties with more foreign-born residents.

"There are no simple solutions," says Dr. Mukherjee, citing a 2015 Harvard study published in JAMA Surgery that found that health care providers may be less attentive and communicative toward hospital patients based on their appearance and background. "Now that we are aware of this problem, we can address it by having translators on hand and staff sensitivity training," he says.