Award-winning doctor returns to Newcastle with bundle of passion

Farrah Othman's career is not her top priority. You wouldn't guess it, considering the 32-year-old award-winning cardiologist has done over 1200 interventions - 10 times what someone her age might've done - in a specialist field where just 5 per cent of doctors are women.

But the big-hearted heart doctor says she was raised to believe that family, relationships, friendships, and the hobbies that make her forget work, albeit fleetingly, are what makes her life truly successful.

Othman knows it can be a tough balance for anyone to strike, let alone in medicine where 60-hour working weeks are the norm. Her secret, she says, is her mentors.

And it's an approach that's worked for her: Othman was awarded the Geoff Mews Memorial ANZET Fellows Prize in 2022 and was flown to Miami to present to international experts.

The charismatic interventional cardiologist is reflecting on her career ahead of her return to Newcastle after two years working on call, seven days a week, at Western Australia's Fiona Stanley Hospital.

An average day for Othman begins at 4.30am, when the ultra-marathon runner pounds Perth's pavement before clocking on at the hospital to peruse a list of up to 15 patients.

She'll slip into heavy protective clothing to spend the day wrist-deep in people's chests - whether it's fitting small metal stents or diagnosing a heart condition.

Weekends are admittedly tricky, she says - she has to be within 30 minutes of the hospital at all times, because "someone's heart is literally breaking" and "time is muscle".

Sure, it's demanding, but it's also "freaking awesome," the bright-eyed Othman says, her face awash with gratitude and passion.

"They can be laying on the table on death's door, and then they go home in 24 hours," she says. "That's incredible."

Othman always knew she wanted to work in healthcare. She'd drawn herself as a doctor in childhood scribbles. But the former Merewether High student had revised that dream to a physio.

Her Merewether High School biology teacher Ros Penson became the first of several influential mentors in Othman's life when she told her to go bigger - why not medicine?

She had the marks - a 99 ATAR - but the remarkably down-to-earth Othman remembers wondering if she was smart enough as she sat the three-hour entry exam at town hall.

Her degree at the University of Newcastle was a dream, she says, partly because the program awarded a binary pass or fail, rather than a mark out of 100.

"We were all in it together, there was no competition," she says. "If you're good enough to pass the exam and become a doctor, then it really shouldn't matter what the mark is".

As an Arab, she does recall noticing it was a fairly "culturally homogeneous" student body.

By her fifth year, Othman was bursting at the seams to walk the hallowed halls of a hospital, working at the John Hunter, the Mater and at Tamworth (where she lived before moving to Newcastle at age 10).

She knew what she didn't want to do. Orthopedics, for one - "I couldn't watch bones be sawed off" - nor ENT, or ear nose and throat - "I hate ear wax".

Othman says her superhuman sense of smell ruled out no fewer than 70 per cent of specialties (One time she correctly identified internal bleeding from the melena smell in a patient's flatulence).

Enter the second mentor in Othman's life, a neonatologist at the John Hunter - Dr Koert de Waal. After her medical school ward rounds, she'd find herself in the baby ward, particularly fascinated by what would prove to be her calling: cardiac physiology.

Her first job was at Sydney's Royal Prince Alfred Hospital, where she recalls consultant cardiologist James Weaver sharing a pearl of wisdom: "Two things in choosing a career pathway: one is that you love the bread and butter because that's going to be 95 per cent of the job. And two, that you look at your seniors, and think: I like the way they run their life".

As a woman in a sea of male doctors, however, she was destined to be outnumbered -- and some colleagues were all too happy to dole out unsolicited counsel.

"I was constantly told, 'No, you can't do it all Farrah, you can't run ultra-marathons and be a good cardiologist and be present with your family'," she says.

"I call bullshit."

It was mentors who helped her maintain a sense of balance between her intensely demanding work and her life beyond it.

"I think the most important thing for people, particularly women, in any career is that you find mentors who are honest, who understand what's important to you, and who don't judge you for that," she says.

And the approach is seeing personal success bloom in her life too: Othman was recently engaged to her partner of three years, Seven Network Sunrise TV presenter James Tobin, 43.

Tobin describes her as "brilliant and beautiful, funny and clever, [and] a kind heart who saves lives," calling himself the "happiest man alive".

The TV star was beaming with pride when Othman completed the Margaret River ultramarathon, a feat she prepared for by running 120 kilometres a week.

But she didn't account for the 10 hours she spends standing in her lead suit - which weighs eight kilograms - leaving her with a stress fracture in her femur.

"Anytime my confidence waivered a bit, the nurses would say, come on now, you've got to show the boys how it's done," Othman laughs.

She doesn't take that responsibility for granted. A third mentor, renowned interventional cardiologist Sonya Burgess, once told her that she would always be held to a higher bar than her male colleagues and must rise to that occasion.

"We are expected to be better... and we need more women to inspire others to do [medicine]," Burgess had told Othman.

So how would one track down a mentor? The key, Othman says, is to find a person whose values align with your own. A cold call - where she introduces herself and asks for advice - is surprisingly effective.

Nowadays juniors in medicine are seeking Othman out for mentorship, and although imposter syndrome lurks in the periphery, she takes it very seriously.

"We do have to step up and take that responsibility because it's so important that we can support males and females, but particularly females, to show them the journey while supporting their wellbeing and happiness."