Live-Tweeting My Brain Surgery

>@smileyanesthesiologist, is the mask you just put on me the general stuff? cuz no one’s asking me to count backwards, and i’m…

>Oooooh, Child, Things Are Gonna Get Easieeeuhhh. #songstogethighto

>@surgeon thx for just telling me how on today’s mri my tumor could just be “shmutz.”

>what the hell is all that noise? oh, it’s the drill in my skull.

>@anesthesiaresident it’s ok that i smoked medical marijuana last night, right? don’t look at me that way. i know you hate me.

>pretty much wishing I had an avatar right now.

>chief surgeon to nurse: “now you tell me i can access the pons through his nose.”

>@surgicalresident “yo,” sorry but i don’t personally care if you had knicks tix 2nite. 

> i felt that. and that. and DEFINITELY that. MEDS?

>dear wife, love yr drama, but this is what “getting punched in the brain” actually feels like.

>@bookiesrus: put 50 on the saints–i don’t care about the spread.

>you guys muck this up, and my health journalist pal’s gonna blog about it. helloooo, dershowitz.

>OWW, that was my optic nerve. maybe move a bit to the right?

>RT huffingtonpost:  public option now please!

>@chiefsurgeon no pressure but yesterday i found yr apartment on google maps, & btw, my wife’s dad’s in the mafia

>seeing my brain through a tiny vidcam on an lcd: will this go viral?

>@chiefsurgeon your yacht sounds great, maybe we can go for a ride sometime–you know, if i live.

>@lcdtech can you see my dreams on that thing? if so, i’d love to know the name of the chick making out with the dolphin in the tux.

>should nurses really be making plans for drinks on their iphones while my skull’s open?

>@entiresurgicalteam someone had some mccallan not more than an hour ago. u think i can’t smell yr breath?

>psycho killer, qu’est-ce que c’est? Run run run run run run away

 >@surgeon: no, i don’t think pfizer will “screw” u with “plain ol’ biz class” on that “free flight to the bora bora ‘conference’ ”

>@o.r. d.j.: lady gaga. really?

>fat from my leg to plug up the hole in my head: guess i knew all that bacon had to serve a purpose. #swinefansunite

>@surgeon stop calling my tumor a bitch. what’s it ever done to you except buy you foie gras?

>@lcdtech if u tell my wife about the dolphin i will kill you.

>fodder for analysis if I ever wake up and can speak: now the dolphin has my mom’s face. 

 >in recovery room: omg. txt just in from insurance co: surgeon’s cartier endoscope not pre-approved. all coverage denied.

Adam Baer is a writer in Los Angeles. His work has appeared in The New Yorker, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, and GQ, among other publications.