‘Only neurosurgeons understand how difficult it is to be so hated, especially when you haven’t even done anything wrong, and only tried to do your best.’

A fortnight ago I reviewed ‘Do No Harm’, a magnificent book written by the remarkable Henry Marsh, a leading brain surgeon who was nearing retirement. The book became a bestseller and won numerous awards. I was so captivated by Marsh’s brilliant storytelling I immediately purchased his second book, ‘Admissions’.

Marsh’s writing is nothing short of outstanding. The chapters where he explains the complexities of brain surgery are exhilarating and stirring in equal measure. He writes in such descriptive terms you get the feeling he’d be just as comfortable penning a suspenseful thriller rather than a life story.

Marsh is at his brilliant best again in the follow-up to his debut release. When you or I make a mistake in the workplace it’s usually able to be rectified, when Henry Marsh makes a mistake it leads to the death of a patient. In ‘Admissions’ he speaks with surprising honesty about the times where his mistakes have caused the death of a patient. Maybe writing down his blunders acts as a kind of therapy for the acclaimed neurosurgeon?

Henry Marsh was nearing retirement when writing this book, you get the feeling he would have loved to have carried on working. About one third of the book focuses on the author’s work in Nepal where he works alongside a former colleague in a hospital not fit for purpose. We soon discover working in an impoverished country like Nepal presents huge challenges to the pair. His poor patients think of Marsh as some kind of biblical healing figure, it’s very upsetting when he has to tell them there’s nothing he can do for them. In both of his books it becomes apparent that speaking to patients is the hardest part of the job of a neurosurgeon. Operating on the human brain is relatively easy compared to telling a patient their life hangs in the balance.

Marsh spends plenty of time reflecting on his career in this book. There have been exhilarating highs followed by catastrophic lows, but his love of neurosurgery has always been there. Marsh can never be accused of mincing his words, especially when it comes to his thoughts on the NHS, ‘a triumph of decency and social justice’ he calls it. He concludes that the NHS is far from perfect, but its faults are able to be solved, given the appropriate government funding. After his final operation, the removal of a large tumour from the father of two young children, Marsh assaulted a male nurse. He explains: ‘Years of frustration and dismay at my steady loss of authority, at the erosion of trust and the sad decline of the medical profession, had suddenly exploded . . . it was time to go.’

A sad ending for one of the great surgeons of our time.