Dr. Basil Schaheen

Dr. Schaheen’s decision-making comes down to three priorities: safety, beauty and predictability. “I think elective cosmetic surgery needs to be safe, it needs to be predictable, and it needs to be beautiful.” Safety comes first because cosmetic surgery is, by definition, elective. Dr. Schaheen never forgets that distinction, and he wants his patients to feel its full weight before they make a decision.

“You don’t need a tummy tuck,” he points out. “There’s nothing about your abdomen that necessitates it. So if you’re going to take on that risk, first and foremost, it has to be safe.”

Once safety is settled, the work must also deliver a beautiful aesthetic outcome. Dr. Schaheen is a “fussy” surgeon, which means to ensure an optimal result, he spends extra time on parts of an operation other surgeons might breeze past: scar placement, closure tension, symmetry, contour. The deep plane facelift is where this fussiness shows up most. A highly technical procedure, it leaves little room for shortcuts, and the final result should look refreshed, not overly pulled or tight. “The distorted, drum-tight facelifts of the 1990s have gone to the wayside,” he says. “My goal is to create a very natural result that still looks and feels like you.”

And finally, Dr. Schaheen believes plastic surgery should be predictable. “We want to know what this will look like in a few months or a few years. I develop very long relationships with my patients, so I want to know they’re going to be happy for the longest amount of time possible.”

While much of Dr. Schaheen’s work involves cosmetic surgery, a large share of his caseload focuses on reconstructive procedures.

It’s the part of the specialty where the stakes feel different.

“There are two types of plastic surgeons: those who do reconstructive work, and those who don’t,” Dr. Schaheen muses. “Reconstruction is less flashy and more practical. The surgeons doing it aren’t the ones driving Ferraris.”

Reconstructive cases often follow cancer, trauma or functional issues that affect how a patient lives day to day. He also shares operating room time with his wife, a hand surgeon at the same practice, on complicated trauma cases that require both bony and soft-tissue work.

Outside his day-to-day role, Dr. Schaheen volunteers his time for post-trauma reconstruction and participates in outreach clinics for uninsured patients. His instinct to serve started early — as a medical student, he also volunteered at JeffHOPE, a student-run organization dedicated to improving access to health care for vulnerable populations.

Some of the most useful moments in Dr. Schaheen’s OR start with a simple question: why?

As a surgeon who has made teaching an integral part of his career, it is a question he both expects and welcomes.

“Once you’re in practice, very few people challenge your intraoperative decision-making,” he explains. “But if you’ve got residents watching you, you’ve got to be able to walk them through every move.”

The role of educator is one he stepped into early.

During his general surgery residency at the University of Virginia, he earned multiple teaching honors, including the Skip Warren Chief Resident Teaching and Leadership Award. At Vanderbilt University Medical Center, he was twice named Plastic Surgery Educator Award recipient and later recognized as Plastic Surgery Consultant of the Year by emergency department faculty.

“If I don’t impart what I’ve learned to a younger generation, I feel like I haven’t done my duty to this field,” he says.

It also makes him a better surgeon. His students challenge him constantly and keep his thinking fresh. Why this suture? Why that approach? Why operate on this patient at all? They push him to stay current, defend his choices and remain open to changing his approach when a better answer comes along.

When Dr. Schaheen isn’t in surgery or seeing patients, he is most likely on a motorcycle, behind a chainsaw or chasing his three young children around their wooded property. He does off-road enduro and hard enduro biking through rough terrain, as well as supersport track racing.

“All stuff my wife wishes I would quit doing,” he laughs.

They’re pursuits that require respect, precision and control, the same qualities he brings into the operating room.

He’s also really intense about pizza. “Wood-fired only, Neapolitan style, the whole shebang.”

It is a full life outside of medicine, and one that keeps him connected to the people and routines that matter most.