Charlie's "100 Things Posts About Me"
#23. I worked for a brain surgeon when I was twenty-three years old.
Which is not to say that I actually
performed brain surgery, you understand. Oh, they'd let me stick my hand in there to feel the squishy brains, of course, and occasionally I'd get to sew up afterwards, but I didn't get to perform actual
surgery. Which was kinda disappointing. I mean, it's not
rocket science or anything. Feh.
But really, the only time I was in the surgery room was to pick up nasty little pieces of brain and bone to take back to the lab.
Very Frankenstein, don't you think? It
was the highlight of my day at the time. Usually, I'd stick a pillow on my back under my shirt and shuffle in like Igor, asking whether the patient's name was 'A.B. Normal'. Yeah, the docs didn't dig that too much. It's amazing that I lasted for nearly two years, when you get right down to it.
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