Surgeons are characters, yet to the contrary we discover British surgeon Gabriel Weston in a unparented state. Dichotomy apparent in “Direct Red: A Surgeon’s View of Her Life-or-Death Profession” as we give breath to an image of her as a hippie arts major lacking scientific education and feeling like a total imposter in the surgical theatre.Direct Red is infused with British-isms and accompanying accent (if you happen to take it in via Audible). Tension is realized when a Surgeon Weston cries for help during a tonsillectomy. And the only answer to her cry is refusal. From breast removals, tonsils and the formation of crafting surgical terms into pure poetry defines Direct Red.“Saffron, Malachite Green. My back is cold with sweat under a synthetic, unsoakable surgical gown. My mask feels suffocating, its visor as dirty as a windscreen, spattered with today’s roadkill.”---Gabriel Weston, ENT Surgeon, U.K.“Direct Red: A Surgeon’s View of Her Life-or-Death Profession” unfolds and reveals an auspicious form of love in the grotesque. We then think of Linnaeus’ phrase “to live by medicine is to live horribly” however Weston transforms the horrible into a divine soup of “gratia plena” we stand in line for on a dreary, gray cold British day. Buy.