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August 13, 2006
Brain Surgery
There was once an Englishman, a well educated gentleman with nothing to do in life except enjoy it. Often in the morning he would stroll around town before retiring to his club for lunch. Now it turned out that he fell ill and he went to see the doctor. After a series of tests and scans, the doctor informed him sadly that there was a massive tumour in his brain. Due to the location it was unlikely that he would have much pain and he should therefore not worry about it over the remaining three months of his life.
After a few moments of contemplating this (with a stiff upper lip), the gentleman asked if surgery was an option. The doctor was somewhat shocked but admitted that there was a possibility that this would result in giving him another twenty to thirty years of life but it was certain that there would be significaant complications.
Not being one to quail in the face of adversity, the gentleman inquired about the specifics of the side effects.
Well, the doctor explained that effectively one third of the brain would need to be removed. This would mean that the patient was no longer a fully functioning Englishman. In fact, he would be no different than an American - unable to spell or speak properly.
This came as a shock to our gentleman and it left him with an enourmous question - was it better to be a dead Englishman or a live American? The question was so difficult that he decided to take a week to think about it. One week slipped into two and then three and four before he returned to the doctor and asked for the surgery.
The doctor warned him that the delay may have made things worse but having put his hand to the plough, the gentleman refused to turn back.
The operation was scheduled for the next day and sure enough, the tumour had grown significantly. In order to excise the tumour the doctor was forced to remove two thirds of the brain rather than the proposed one third. He was quite concerned about this and made sure he was waiting by the patient's bedside as he came out from the anesthetic.
As the patient came around, the doctor propped him up on a pillow and began to explain the difficulties and complexities. The patient listened patiently but calmly. Thinking that he had failed to explain the ramifications - that the patient would have les sthan half the intelligence of even an American - the doctor started again but the patient held up his hand and said (in Aussie accent): No worries mate, she'll be right.
[Found at Rosary Army...]
Posted by Ozguru at August 13, 2006 12:00 PM
