birdwatcher (birdwatcher) wrote,

Frank Vertosick Jr. "When the Air Hits Your Brain"

Рекомендовал добрый piggymouse. Книга поучительная сразу с нескольких точек зрения, но меня больше всего заинтересовали наблюдения про выбор медицинской профессии -- и вообще, и конкретного направления медицины. Никогда не мог понять, как это: допустим, мне 14 лет. Представляю себе развороченные, пульсирующие внутренности, животные крики, запах крови, запах кала, как я вонзаю скальпель, и т.д. И думаю: я ведь всё равно с этим вожусь всё свободное время совершенно бесплатно, а тут за то же самое будут платить деньги; значит, глупо было бы становиться кем-то другим.

Ну не может же такого быть.

Пишет Вертосик: There is a misconception that surgeons flock to their profession at an early age, drawn as if by a religious calling. Well, I didn't grow up planning to be a brain surgeon. I admit, as a child, I tried to build The Visible Head model - but I threw away the macabre plastic replica of a human noggin when the eyeballs fell out and rolled off the kitchen table. [...] What draws people to "glamorous" medical careers? For some, it's vindication for being a loser early in life: the grade school wimp beaten in the playground, the high school geek who never had a date. For others, it's the secure (and large) income. As for me, I wandered too close to a dangerously seductive profession and wound up stuck for good, a fly in the spider's web. Had I never seen a brain operation, I doubt that the thought of doing brain surgery would have occurred to me.

В другом месте рассказывает, как его поучал старший товарищ:
"The next five years of your life, Frank, will be hard, but always remember this: If neurosurgery wasn't hard, everyone would do it. Look at those fleas over there. Do you think they really want to write prescriptions for Inderal for the next forty years? Do you think they wake up at night screaming 'Dialysis! I must dialyze one more patient!' Maybe a few do, but most of them wanted to be surgeons but just couldn't hack the work it takes to be one. If a genie popped out of their pizza right now and said he could make them into any type of doctor they would want to be, right here and now, which one of them do you think would say 'Oh, genie please make me a gastroenterologist so that I could look up someone's ass all day and my office can be filled with spastic-colon patients wanting to show me Polaroids of their latest bowel movement,' or 'Genie, I get an erection just thinking about chronic lung patients coughing up goobers at me.' No way. They'd all want to be heart surgeons or brain surgeons or transplant surgeons.

И потом ближе к концу размышляет:
The tiniest perturbations in our youths, our "initial conditions," generate profound alterations in our later lives. In my case, I had wanted to be a computer scientist, but no openings in my freshman computer-science courses existed. If I had jumped one or two places ahead in the registration line, I would have made it into freshman comp sci and never become a physician. What delayed my arrival at the registration office? I don't remember - stopping for a hamburger, maybe, or speaking to a friend - but whatever this long-forgotten event was, it changed my life.

Можете представить более инопланетные мысли?! Я - нет.

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