What do I do? Oh, well I'm a high school english teacher.
I haven't even started my neurosurgery training, and already I'm tired of telling people what I'm going to be when I grow up. It seems that the range of responses of which people are capable when hearing the word "neurosurgery" in conversation is actually binary. Either they reply with a 0, which is machine language for "OH MY GOD! A neurosurgeon? You really don't ever want to know your kids do you? You'd better have a very understanding wife. Well, actually, I'm quite sure you'll have several. Man, you seem really well adjusted for a future neurosurgeon. I guess a lot of 'em must start out normal, though -- it must be the training that kills the personality. Well, I guess somebody has to do it. I'm just glad it's not me." Alternatively, they respond with a 1, meaning, "..." (awkward pause, jaw agape), "Wowwwwwwwwwww...that's awesommmmmmmmmmme. That's really hardcore. I can't even imagine what that must be like. So you're going to look at people's brains and stuff? Wowwwwwwwwwwww...that's awesommmmmmmme. Congratulations. Wowwwwwwwww... That's really hardcore."
That's just about all I get. And so far, no groupies. Somebody should have told me ahead of time there weren't going to be any groupies, because that's a bum deal. Come to think of it, though, not even the neurosurgery attendings seem to have much of a following. Even when their legs are soaked to the knee with blood and cerebrospinal fluid, and they're finally getting out of the OR at 9pm, and they're on their way to their office for a teleconference with their attorney about the latest frivolous malpractice suit, they still don't seem to have any fans hanging about, nor even any paparazzi vying for an unobstructed photograph. Hmmm...I guess all the rocket scientists get groupies, though. DANG IT! Too bad I didn't have any rocket science skills.
So anyhow, I'm thinking of renaming my blog, "Not American History," and writing about my imagined life as a high school english teacher. What do you folks think?
posted by Ian @ 8:47 PM
10 comments
10 Comments:
No, please don't change!
Long, long time ago - I was in Douglaston Manor and this guy was hitting on my mom. Yeah... anyhow, she wanted to be saved, and then he starts asking me a bunch of questions. He didn't believe that I was her daughter, but he did believe that I was a brain surgeon. What's up with that?
You mean you aren't?
When I read your discussion on the "hot librarian" about clipping anneurysms I decided to see if you could fix my 11 inch dissected aorta...but alas I discover you are into "head" things. Best Wishes for your career..
mobilone
Yeah, I'm a more of a head case. I know a few good thoracic surgeons, though.
Thanks for the good wishes!
I got the same "oh" response when I told people I was in Biotech Research. People would say to my husband "What do you do?" first. At the time he was a social services case manager for the mentally ill, so they would give this excited "Oh, Really?" and start asking a lot of questions. Then they would turn to me and say "and what do you do?" and I would tell them and they would say "oh." and give a I-have-no-clue-what-to-say-about-that look and start asking him questions again.
Now I say "I'm a stay-at-home mom" and I get another sort of "Oh". The Oh-you-are-too-stupid-to-have-a-career look. I can't win.
And DON'T CHANGE. We, and Mr. Rogers, like you just the way you are. ;)
Ian it seems you do have some fans and I guess you could call them groupies in a way. I became a fan when I saw that you have an excellent way with words and listing The Princess Bride in your favorite movie list sealed the deal! I have two blogs in my favorites list on my explorer and yours is one of them.
Keep up the good work, never give up your dreams, and pish posh to those who can't deal with those dreams. They have either given up on theirs or they they have lost them along the way and have become cynical.
This groupie will be keeping up with your adventures with an eager eye :)
Thanks, everyone, for the generous comments and good wishes!! I promise I won't start writing about a fictional life as an english teacher.
It could be worse. I have a friend who's a rocket scientist.
Try being a farmer!
I had a high school English teacher who had groupies. I think it helped that he was Jewish and on the first day of class he told the story of his star-crossed love affair with an Arabian girl who was actually removed from the country by her parents for this. Every girl in class fell promptly in love with him. If you decide to have a fantasy life, do throw in a doomed love affair.
I stumbled accidentally, but I have read through a few posts and think you are quite a delight, you know, for a guy who is "downlifting" and cuts heads open for a living
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