Her Style Of Medicine
Dr. Lamia Gabal spends a lot of time in the operating room. She performs 20 to 25 surgeries a month, and just as many in-office procedures. “I like to say that I’m in my pajamas at work, which are my scrubs,” she says with a little laugh. “They’re very comfortable, but I enjoy getting out of them.” Indeed, Gabal is as comfortable in those green “pajamas” as she is in a designer ballgown. She’s glamorous, witty, and she loves dressing up—whether it’s for a dinner date with her husband or a gala fundraiser. “I think that comes from the little girl in me who didn’t grow up with very much,” says Gabal. Today, she’s the driving force behind Prestige Medical Group, an all-women practice in a field dominated by men. You’ll find her name on this year’s Physicians of Excellence list— her 17th time on the esteemed Orange County Medical Association roster. Her specialty: urology, with a focus on female pelvic medicine and reconstructive surgery (FPMRS).
VITALS
NAME: Lamia Gabal, M.D., FPMRS
PRACTICE: Prestige Medical Group, prestigemedigroup.com
FAMILY STATS: Husband, Charlie Wilcoxson; daughters, Laila and Lexie Shehab; niece, Yasmine Higbee; stepdaughter, Alix Wilcoxson
EXERCISE: Orangetheory
GUILTY PLEASURE: A sweet treat before bed
CELEBRITY WHOSE STYLE SHE ADMIRES: Amal Clooney
“When I finished my residency in 2001, only 4 percent of board-certified urologists were female,” she notes. “We are up to 11 percent now—a vast improvement but still a minority. Women in urology are important since many women suffer from urological conditions—incontinence, prolapse, kidney stones, bladder cancer—and they may feel more comfortable talking to a female doctor about these things. … I’ve built a practice that I’m very proud of, with three female urologists, three female physician assistants, and an all-female staff so that women—and men—can feel very comfortable talking to us about all these intimate issues.”
But her path to success was long and winding. Gabal was 2 years old, and her sister was 1, when their parents packed up and moved from Cairo, Egypt, to San Francisco. Her brother, the youngest of the brood, was born here in the U.S. (Her sister passed away in 2010, and Gabal took over care of her niece, who was 15 at the time.)
“Because they did bring us here for better opportunities, they never let us forget it,” she says with a lighthearted tone. “They’d tell us, ‘You’re going to be a doctor, and you’re going to be a lawyer.” But the family struggled financially, and shortly after their arrival in the United States, Gabal’s mother suffered a severe injury.
“My parents couldn’t speak English, but both had degrees in agricultural engineering. They found a sponsor in San Francisco, and my dad took a job as dishwasher to support the family. He saved up enough money to buy a car, but it was a cheap car, and it broke down at the top of a hill. My sister and I were in the car, and my mom got out to push from the back while my dad was steering. The car rolled back on my mom and pinned her between two cars.”
Her mom ended up in traction at UCSF Medical Center. “My dad didn’t know what to do with two small kids, so we went into foster care for six months.” In the meantime, he landed work in L.A. County as a chemical engineer. When her mom was released from the hospital, the family reunited and moved to Compton, and her mom was later hired for a job with the county. “But my dad suffered from mental illness, and he had a difficult time keeping a job. He opened a couple of gas stations and then auto-parts stores. By the time I was in junior high, we’d moved to Anaheim, and my dad had opened King Tut Auto Parts. We were the only Arabs in Anaheim back then.”
Gabal attended Magnolia High School and graduated at 16, then went to UC Irvine and graduated with a bachelor’s degree at 20. She set her sights on medical school, but her college counselor said the chances of getting into a California-based program were slim to none. “It was just so discouraging.”
Her first year out of college, she worked for her sorority—Pi Beta Phi—and helped establish a chapter in Syracuse, N.Y. “It was so cold, and it was such a culture shock,” she recalls. Shortly after that, she was hired by a pharmaceutical company and sold orthodontic products. She took the GMAT, thinking she’d get her MBA. “Then I was like, ‘I think I want to be the one they’re selling to.’” So she pursued medical school. Accepted by UC Davis and UC San Diego, Gabal opted to attend the latter. “That was three years after I had graduated college. It wasn’t as common to take a gap year back then. I took three gap years, and I’m happy I made that decision. I can’t imagine doing anything else now.”
But urology wasn’t her first choice. She laughs about it now when she thinks back to her third year, when students embark on their specialty rotations. “I wanted plastic surgery and ENT (ear, nose, and throat), but I ended up getting plastic surgery and urology. I tried so hard to give it away, but nobody wanted it! I thought, ‘Who wants to do this for a living?’ But I sucked it up and did it. I loved the rotation and the people. I knew I wanted to do some sort of surgical specialty. Most urologists have a great sense of humor, there aren’t as many emergencies as you would have as a general surgeon, and there needed to be more women in the field.”
Her practice has expanded—in every way. This past summer, her team moved from a 3,200-square-foot space into a beautiful 6,100-square-foot medical office. “In the last few years, we’ve added sexual health and wellness into the practice. As I get older, I want to learn about these issues, not just for myself, but for my patients. It’s been so wonderful to help people with those challenges because they seem so taboo to talk about. It’s a really important part of life, and not all doctors have the time or the expertise to help patients with that.” Clearly, she’s found her niche.