I'm writing a book in public

Brain herniated and I had one question - where is the meaning in this? The theatre lights blazed down while we waited for the sun to come up. The skull was sawn open and the air hung with the smell of burnt bone. Then, the hands of the clock stopped - they always do when immersed in surgery. In this world the operating drapes throb azure blue, the skull defines “bone ivory” and blood sings scarlet. Dying makes life high-definition.

This was the first paragraph I wrote for my book. Its birth was well overdue, with a gestation of over 10 years. Now the genie cannot be put back in the bottle and the words continue to flow.

Much has happened in the last 4 months that has taken me away from regular writing. In that space, with the noise turned down, I could hear the voice of a memory - write a book about what I have seen as a surgeon.

And I've seen a lot. Parents deciding their six year old princess has fought enough. A single decision take a vibrant young man to mute and bed bound. A woman seize until death. The fiancée of a dead woman define heroism. What it means to be forgiven.

These memories and reflections have been simmering for years and it's time to let them go. This book is an attempt to give voice to the meaning experienced by patients and seen by doctors. So when we are gone, the lessons of our shared humanity are not lost; like tears in the rain.

The book will be a deeply-reflective honest account of my experience as a neurosurgeon. It will guide you through the simplified technical aspects of neurosurgery, my inner thought process, and the glimpses of meaning illuminated through suffering.

We will explore universal philosophical, moral, and societal themes woven around individual patient narratives. Each chapter will unwrap age-old problems such as uncertainty, our experience of time, and facing mortality.

If you want to join me on this journey of writing a book in public, please subscribe to my new newsletter - Reflections of a Neurosurgeon. You will receive 2,000 words each week as the stories unfold.

Subscription comes with a small monthly fee (about the price of a coffee). That's because I want you to engage, to ask questions, to tell me what you want to know more about, to tell me what made you feel.

Only the curious should subscribe.