The most recommended books about surgery

I thought this book was the perfect blend of mysterious and romantic. The characters are multi-faceted, both strong and vulnerable, and they play off each other’s strengths and weaknesses. I was rooting for a happy ending for them all, even though I couldn’t imagine how Michelle Griep could pull it off.

The brief appearance by Mary Shelley was the perfect nod to the themes of this book. Michelle Griep is a fearless writer who raises the stakes in her novels, and with Lost in Darkness, she ups the ante even more.

Richard Selzer is perhaps my favorite surgeon-author. As a college student reading his beautiful—and sometimes ornate bordering on romantic—writing, I enjoyed having a glimpse into not only what a surgeon does but, more importantly, what a surgeon feels. Start by reading the first story in this collection, “Imelda,” about a young girl in Honduras with a cleft lip and palate. It gives me chills every time. If you think surgeons are unfeeling, read any of Selzer’s stories and think again. They are like love letters to the profession.

Elizabeth O’Brien narrates the unexamined history of obstetrical surgery in Mexico, beginning with the late colonial history of the Catholic-directed emergence of a mandate to perform caesarean sections on dying or dead women to access and baptise fetuses before to ensure their eternal salvation. O’Brien then treats various groups, medical procedures, institutions, and events delineating the conflicted history of obstetrical care through the 1930s.

The episodes are fascinating and disturbing and include such instances as the 1901 riot of a group of women forcibly confined to Hospital Morelos for suspected venereal infection and a new medical procedure–“vaginal bifurcation”—a medical student designed in 1932 to allow for the temporary sterilization of pregnant women deemed imperfect reproducers.

Henry Marsh, similar to Richard Selzer, is another rare example of a senior surgeon with an amazing ability to recount both the outer and inner life of a surgeon. Marsh is a British neurosurgeon with a long career full of remarkable stories, and Do No Harm focuses a lens in particular on what can go wrong, along with the physical and emotional repercussions. It’s a very honest and fascinating narrative that should be required reading for all medical students, not only for those contemplating neurosurgery.

Having experienced several eye operations, I really connected with this story about a female African American ophthalmologist who pioneered laser surgery and received a patent for the ingenious device used to perform the delicate procedure of removing cataracts. An important book on so many layers, Patricia's Vision is a mirror for children in marginalized groups to see themselves as successful professionals, a window for other children to observe a diverse person in the role of an inventor and a doctor, and a sliding glass door for all to envision their own endless possibilities. The story also shows how young Patricia Bath grew up with hopes and dreams, and plans of what might be – and it will empower young readers today to build their dreams into reality.

Although this book has been around for a very long time, I only encountered it earlier this year.

It is a scientific fiction novel based on a supposed treatment given to a mentally handicapped young man (Charlie) that gave him great intelligence. This treatment had been tried earlier on mice (one being Algernon), enabling them to do cognitive tasks impossible for ordinary mice. The basis for much of the book was that the treatment was not permanent, and first, Algernon and then Charlie deteriorated back to where they were cognitively before the treatment.

The book beautifully describes what it was like (in Charlie’s own words) to be cognitively disabled before the treatment and how he was treated by people; then, when the treatment was effective, and finally, as he was deteriorating, which he recognized was happening. Although fictional, the descriptions of the cognitive changes in Charlie are compelling.

A tale of perseverance and cleverness, told in gentle rhyme with a soft colour palette, this is a lovely book for younger readers.

Dr. Bath’s inventions and contributions to ophthalmology were driven by curiosity and compassion and cannot be overstated. Mosca’s text addresses racism and misogyny head-on, while Rieley’s easy-to-parse illustrations leave plenty of room for questions and discussion.

As part of a series about women scientists, the book ends with a word from Dr. Bath, a visual timeline, and notes on further reading.

This is the first book I discovered that helped me understand what was happening to my daughter after she told me she identified as “trans.” I learned about the vulnerability of girls to social contagions by peers and social media influencers.

Although I was baffled by reading that gender-affirming care doesn’t address the root cause of a girl’s distress and instead helps her rush into a medicalized model with long-term, adverse health effects, it confirmed my family’s experience.

This book boosted my confidence to advocate for young people to address and heal what lies beneath the proclamation that they were born in the wrong body, and it also helped me understand the potential damage caused by gender drugs and surgeries.

Corkin, a research psychologist, presents a fascinating case study of her patient, Henry Molaison, a man with no memory. Molaison—or H.M., as he was known in the scientific literature until his death in 2008—was a 27-year-old with severe epilepsy when he underwent radical brain surgery in 1953 to cure his intractable seizures.

Though Molaison’s seizures largely abated after the operation, he developed an even bigger problem, which manifested almost immediately after his surgery. Daily events vanished from his mind almost as soon as they had occurred.

Like most patients living with dementia, he could form no new long-term memories. With no new memories, he lived in a perpetual present, disconnected from his past (or at least the past after his surgery) and his future.

I unabashedly admit to reading this fabulously fascinating novel at least five times. Set "a few years in the future," a remote young medical illustrator, Sicily Coyne, needs a new face. When the girlhood victim of a deadly church fire learns that her fiancé holds a deeply buried and devastating secret, Sicily is propelled to agree to receive the first-ever face transplant. Surgery not only restores her appearance, but transforms her into a gorgeous young woman, which sends her spiraling into deep depression. But Sicily's a survivor. She begins embracing a brave new world, ultimately finding an unexpected and by all accounts unsuitable new love, who gives her a gift she never would have expected. Mitchard, one of our finest women's fiction writers at the top of her game.