Often it isn’t until years later that we realise how a childhood experience might have shaped us. For Dr Nick Gottardo, there’s a likely link between his choice to research and treat children’s brain cancers and his early years in a small Italian town.
By Ara Jansen
Nick Gottardo only ever wanted to be a doctor and one childhood story has always stuck with him and probably had something to do with it.
Born in the UK, at three months Nick’s father moved his family back to his homeland of Italy. The Gottardos lived in the northern Italian town of Sondalo, home to the E. Morelli Hospital, a 2500-bed tuberculosis sanitorium. By the end of World War II, Villaggio Morelli was the biggest of its kind in Europe and featured deckchairs on the sheltered terraces for aero therapy, which came complete with stunning mountain views.
Sondalo is a mountain village and Nick’s dad Renato, a chef, ran a local hotel. He was also a regular blood donor.
A girl at Nick’s school, named Nadia, had leukemia. In a very clear memory, Nick remembers Renato leaving the house late one night to donate blood because a child was critically ill. He returned some hours later looking visibly shaken. The child, who turned out to be Nadia, had died.
Renato is now 75 and still carries a photo of Nadia in his wallet. He has visited her mother over the years when returning to Italy.
“Nadia was going through leukemia treatment in the late 1970s,” says Nick, a children’s brain cancer specialist. “Had she been born later she might have lived. It hit my dad hard that he couldn’t help save her. I didn’t know what leukemia was at the time. I did know it was traumatic because my father was traumatised by this child’s death.”
Nick grew up speaking only Italian, so when his parents returned to the UK as an eight-year-old, he became a migrant in his own country, in a special class with other kids who couldn’t speak English and had come from all corners of globe.
From his earliest memories, a couple of things stuck in his head about medicine. Two sets of family friends had doctors in them who worked at the sanitorium, plus the spectre of the place literally hung above his Italian home.
By his teens, Nick remained resolute about becoming a doctor but as he was much better at history, French and the arts over sciences, people tried to steer him into law. He was adamant that chemistry, biology and physics were his path and he worked hard to get good grades. Better at biology and chemistry than maths, he also chose Latin because his dad told him drug names were derived from the language.
He was offered a place early and did a Bachelor of Medicine and Bachelor of Surgery from Leeds University. Paediatrics and GP work were the two things which had interested him the most as he moved around his rotations and into residencies.
He worked at the family’s Italian restaurant to put himself through his studies, which apparently did wonders for his bedside manner. Even after he became a qualified doctor, he still put on an apron or hopped behind the bar because he enjoyed it.
Working at Leeds General Infirmary solidified Nick’s decision to become a paediatrician. “I loved working with children and had phenomenal seniors who supervised me.”
By then, he had become known for wearing cartoon and Disney ties. So much so that when he turned up to a job interview wearing a more conservative tie, the panel questioned his choice.
On seeing an advert for a job in Australia in 1996, Nick headed to the Blue Mountains and worked there for six months. He was eventually lured west by English friends in hospitality who had settled in Perth and he worked as a locum around the State. On the odd Saturday night, he’d wait tables in Perth when his chef friends needed a hand.
While he enjoyed the locum work, Nick’s heart really was with kids. A cold call to PMH got him a job and he later began a PhD at the Telethon Kids Institute.
“I really fell in love with the specialty. I had looked after this boy who passed away from leukemia and I thought ‘I really want to make a difference and stop him from dying’. He fought so hard and still passed away.”
Becoming part of Kyle’s Camp (through the Kyle Andrews Foundation), a Broome getaway for sick children named after a local boy who had died, further confirmed he had made the right choice. It was Kyle who inspired Nick to do his PhD on T-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia, a rare and aggressively malignant cancer.
Wanting to learn more, he later spent three years at St Jude Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee, one of the world’s premier childhood cancer institutes. Working as a post-doctoral brain tumour fellow, he gained extensive experience in the lab in brain tumour model generation, preclinical testing and brain cancer cell biology, as well as expertise in the management of children with brain tumours.
“The team was seeing 150 children a year with brain cancer compared to the smaller numbers we were seeing in Perth. They were doing cutting-edge work and writing the book on it, while I was learning how to look after children with brain cancer.
“All that work gave me the grounding to be an independent doctor and researcher. I remain passionate about this and have seen major changes over the years. We’ve done all this research and there’s still so much to understand about brain cancers – there are more than 100 types.
“We do, however, understand them much better than when I first started. I’m a piece of a very large puzzle with people around the world. Together we have a much better understanding of the diseases and we’re trying to find more effective and less toxic treatments. The battle is ongoing.
“I still think about Nadia. Especially given we now cure 80-85% of children with childhood cancer.”
Today Nick is co-head of the Telethon Kids Institute’s Brain Tumour Research Team and a Consultant Paediatric Oncologist/Neuro-Oncologist and Head of Department of Paediatric Oncology and Haematology at Perth Children’s Hospital. He’s also an Adjunct Associate Clinical Professor at the University of Western Australia.
Married for 24 years to WA local Carolyn, the couple have two children – Alyssa who is studying pharmacy and 13-year-old Bryce. Dad and son mountain bike together and Nick plays cameraman for Bryce’s YouTube channel about remote control rock crawler cars.
The Gottardos have also travelled extensively together. That’s when Nick has time to put his “decent knife skills” to use, cooking fancy meals for friends and family.
A recent black belt in tae kwon-do, Nick wanted to continue with martial arts while living in Memphis. Unable to find a dojo, he discovered a local karate school and at 35 went back to being a white belt. Turns out, it wasn’t just any karate school but the Tennessee Karate Institute — the martial arts school that Elvis co-founded. 
Nick’s chief instructor was former Tennessee Supreme Court Chief Justice Janice Holder, a fifth degree black belt alongside Elvis’ friend and partner, Grandmaster Patrick “The Viper” Wrenn.
“Elvis was into martial arts and he credited it for his mental health. It was a very interesting experience to meet these people and be exposed to a different kind of martial arts,” Nick says.
“A couple of years ago my son was watching the show Cobra Kai (a spin-off of The Karate Kid on Netflix) and suggested I get back into tae kwon-do. I started from the beginning with Bryce. I’ve currently got a yellow belt with a green tip and at 52, am one of the oldest in the class.
“For me it’s a time to switch off from work and spend time with my son. I really have to connect with the movements and don’t have time to think about something I have to write or check on or review.”
Nick’s philosophy is that while he might not be able to stop all the children he treats from dying, he can make their lives the best they can be for the time they have left.
“I always try my best to find the best treatment and go with the attitude of doing the most to defeat the tumour. There are some that are incurable, but you think about extending a child’s life with quality by using all the science, training, knowledge and connections you have. If you work with that principle and do the best you can and buy them some quality time, that’s how I reconcile it. I recognise I can’t save them all.”
It’s the support of his wife and kids which get him through the times which are overwhelming. “Kids with cancer are resilient and I am constantly inspired by them. It’s amazing what they go through. They pick themselves up, dust themselves off and get on with it.”