4.5 stars
"[My book] is not about technology, it isn't even really about the medicine. It's about the human aspect of disease, the human dimension of those who suffer from it, and the human dimension of those neophytes, like me, who learn to treat it. And that dimension is timeless." -- the author, page 272
Although not quite obvious by the occasional details, Dr. Frank Vertosick apparently went through a neurosurgeon's schooling / training / career advancement in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania of the 1980's - I lost count of how many times a patient, their visiting relative, or a medical professional lights up a cigarette in the hospital interior (!) - and he highlights a number of his cases and/or professional experiences in the concise but often involving medical memoir When the Air Hits Your Brain. The author comes across as an honest and self-deprecating straight-shooter type (although I would've guessed that he would've joked about his surname, which sounds like a vaguely Germanic term for flight nausea), and his many stories are culled from his various successive physician positions (intern, resident, attending, etc.) throughout the years 'on the job.' They run the gamut from the successes to the mistakes, from the heroic life-saving moments to the truly heartbreaking or tragic incidents. *I defy any reader not to burst into tears - because I sure as hell did - by the concluding pages of chapter 10's 'Rebecca,' about a very ailing six-week old infant that he oversaw during his required pediatric rotation.* Other than some medical terms or explanations being sometimes difficult to fully comprehend without diagrams or photographs, this was an insightful and affecting book.