Propofol: Michael Jackson Was Right!
The ride begins with small talk—rain, a detour, a meetup—and quickly turns into something bigger: a portrait of ambition reshaped by reality. Our passenger is a medical student who once aimed at surgery, steeped in vascular research and drawn by the allure of mastery and impact. Then comes a story from a conference: a lauded surgeon who learned his son died mid-operation and finished the case without visible reaction. The anecdote lands like a blunt instrument, raising uneasy questions about compartmentalization, grief, and what medicine asks people to trade to be great. In that moment, the operating room stops being a theater of pure skill and becomes a test of humanity. The student’s path veers toward anesthesiology, not because it’s easy, but because it keeps space for care without swallowing the rest of a life. The conversation digs into the money myths and the mortality math. Anesthesia has the reputation: solid pay, high responsibility, quiet heroics. But the host presses o...
