Recently, on a trip to my extended family’s vacation home in Orr’s Island, Maine, I stumbled upon an unlikely and ostensibly unremarkable book. When I saw the white, sterile looking hardcover adorned with an image of a doctor wearing medical scrubs, my attention was not immediately captured. Such a medical-looking book is not a strange sight to see in my aunt and uncle’s home, as my family has a long and involved history in the world of medicine - specifically neurology.

My grandfather on my father’s side of the family, Malcolm Carpenter, was a well-known and accomplished neuroanatomist who helped map the pathways of the brain that coordinate movement and equilibrium. He graduated from Columbia and completed his medical residency there. He also wrote the “Core Text of Neuroanatomy” and “HumanNeuroanatomy”, both of which are now considered classic educational texts. My uncle, Malcolm’s son, is a practicing neurosurgeon, specializing in conditions such as epilepsy and Parkinson’s disease. One cousin is in her fourth year of medical school. Another is published in neurological research.

Consequently, it almost seems comical that I am majoring in English and minoring in dance. Even more laughable is the fact that my dad, despite his family history, faints when he sees blood - and I seem to have inherited his squeamish tendencies. It is clear that the “science” gene was not passed on to me, and the thought of going into medicine was never even in the realm of possibility. However, I have always had an interest in the intricacies of the human brain, and the complex relationship between the mechanics of it all and the less tangible entities of consciousness and thought.

So, when I spotted this book, titled “Another Day in the Frontal Lobe” and graced with the image of a petite, young-looking female doctor, I was intrigued. While I automatically assume that all books discussing anything medical are far out of my comfort zone, the simple sounding title and non-intimidating female doctor on the cover (as well as my recent Grey’s Anatomy obsession) encouraged me.

Written by Katrina Firlik, one of only 200 or so female neurosurgeons in the United States, “Another Day in the Frontal Lobe” takes the reader on an engaging tour of human brains and the doctors who cut into them. Firlik begins the book by likening the texture of the human brain to tofu - or toothpaste when the brain tissue is damaged - and proceeds to explain why. She provides specific case studies, the first being a construction worker who was shot in the skull with a nail gun and consequently had a two-inch nail in his frontal lobe, which is the section of the brain that primarily controls important cognitive skills such as emotional expression and problem solving. The patient seemed remarkably unharmed, alert, and pain-free. Firlik then walks the reader through her experience in the OR, succinctly reporting her process of drilling a hole in the patients head, removing the nail, and fastening the bone back to his head with titanium plates and screws. Now this is a medical book I could be interested in.

Rather than fill the pages of her book with specific medical jargon that would only be understood by those in this high-pressure, high-prestige medical specialty, Firlik uses a sharp sense of humor and witty metaphors to make this seemingly esoteric topic interesting and easy to understand. She describes neurosurgeons as being “part scientist, part mechanic," and reminds the reader that while these specialists are often researching and pondering deep questions of the mind, they are also often reaching for a chisel and drill.

Firlik aptly describes a typical day in the life of a neurosurgeon, from the moment she wakes up to the unexpected challenges she faces every day. She discusses saving lives and saving her marriage. She is candid, refreshing, and deeply humane in the way that she addresses thorny ethical questions as well as almost grotesque medical procedures. She recounts how her childhood as a general surgeon’s daughter led her on this challenging career path, and discusses the nuanced hierarchy of doctors and surgeons known for their big egos and aggressive self-confidence. Firlik poignantly explains the heart-wrenching, devastating feeling of not being able to help a patient, and conversely, the heroic “surgeon’s high” that one feels when a life has been saved.

Terms such as “adrenoleukodystrophy” and “megalencephaly” do not appear in this memoir about the life of a neurosurgeon. That is what makes “Another Day in the Frontal Lobe”so appealing; it gives us non-scientific people insight into an incredibly specialized world, and enables us to understand it (although I know that what Firlik presents in this book is merely the tip of the neurosurgery iceburg). So, at risk of sounding like a huge nerd, I urge you to read this book. It is inspiring, interesting, and may be the only opportunity at a simplified glimpse into the incredible world of neurosurgery that you will ever have.