Katrina Firlik is a neurosurgeon. She’s one of the few female neurosurgeons in a largely male dominated profession and has written a book about her work and experiences called Another Day in the Frontal Lobe.
She’s recently been featured on numerous radio programmes and newspaper interviews (listed here), the best of which is probably an in-depth discussion about her work on an NPR radio show entitled A Surgeon’s-Eye View of the Brain.
An short excerpt of her book is available online:
The brain is soft. Some of my colleagues compare it to toothpaste, but that‚Äôs not quite right. It doesn‚Äôt spread like toothpaste. It doesn‚Äôt adhere to your fingers the way toothpaste does. Tofu — the soft variety, if you know tofu — may be a more accurate comparison. If you cut out a sizable cube of brain it retains its shape, more or less, although not quite as well as tofu. Damaged or swollen brain, on the other hand, is softer. Under pressure, it will readily express itself out of a hole in the skull made by a high-speed surgical drill. Perhaps the toothpaste analogy is more appropriate under these circumstances.
The issue of brain texture is on my mind all the time. Why? I am a neurosurgeon. The brain is my business. Although I acknowledge that the human brain is a refined, complex, and mysterious system, I often need to regard it as a soft object inhabiting the bony confines of a hard skull. Many of the brains I encounter have been pushed around by tumors, blood clots, infections, or strokes that have swollen out of control. Some have been invaded by bullets, nails, or even maggots. I see brains at their most vulnerable. However, whereas other brain specialists, like neurologists and psychiatrists, examine brain images and pontificate from outside of the cranium, neurosurgeons boast the additional manual relationship with our most complex of organs. We are part scientist, part mechanic.