A man grew up with the decision that he would be satisfied with nothing but the very best. This decision helped him to become very 
successful and very rich, so he now had the means with which to provide himself with nothing but the best.
Now it so happened that he was suffering from a severe attack of tonsillitis, a condition that could have been dealt with effectively by any qualified surgeon in the land. But, impressed as he was with a sense of his own importance, and goaded by his obsession to provide himself with the very best that the medical world had to offer, he began to move from one town to another, one country to another in search of the best man for the job.
Each time some particularly competent surgeon was recommended to him he began to fear that there might just possibly be someone who was even more competent.
One day his condition became so bad and his throat so infected that an operation had to be performed immediately for his life was in danger. But the man was in a semi-comatose state in a god-forsaken village where the only person who had used a knife on a living creature was the village butcher.
He was remarkably good butcher and went to work with a will but when he got to the man’s tonsils he didn’t quite know what he was supposed to do with them. And while he was busy consulting people who knew as little as he, the poor patient for whom nothing but the very best was good enough, bled to death.