Through the Eyes of
Children
An in depth look at the lives of two
heroesÖ
as told by Christian Brodeur
My name is Christian Brodeur and Iíd like to share with you a story of two people who have touched me deeply and changed my life forever. Their names: Justin Cox and Chris Ketcherside, or more affectionately, ìCoxî and ìKetch.î
These two classmates of mine have overcome many obstacles along their way to medical school and I am honored to be their friend. I am also their caretaker and interpreter. I help them communicate with the outside world and assist them with personal needsócleaning, bathing, feeding themselves. In return, they allow me to hang out with them, as their ìlackey.î I have been promised a future role as their ìstooge,î but in the meantime, Iíd like to tell you how they were brought into my life.
You see, both of these men suffer from an inconvenient conditionóthey are anencephalic, or born without brains. Heroically, they have managed to fight on past the average prognosis of death within a few months and lead outwardly normal lives. They have even succeeded at obtaining undergraduate degrees and admission into medical school, albeit through dubious means. Still, despite such achievements, their condition has bestowed on them the social interactive skills of a one-year old, and they now sit with us everyday during lecture, staring blankly in the general direction of the lectern, with the professorís spoken words rattling around in their empty skulls.
How do they get through every day without a single thought? Listen to Ketch describe his outlook on life: ìEat shit huh mother fucker crap damn oh rad hey go away hey chiefs yeah no way.î Let me translate. Ketch, you see, lives every day like itís his last, or more accurately, his first. He has no memory of what has happened before or who his friends are. He lives in a constant state of amazement at the world around him. His lack of memory is both a curse and a blessing. It is, for example, the only reason he enjoys talking to me. He doesnít remember that I have only two conversation topicsófantasy baseball and ice hockey.
Remarkably, despite his condition, Ketch has managed to find a woman to spend his life with. I posed the question to wife Mindy, ìwhy Ketch?î ìPity, mostly,î she said. ìHeís just so helpless, I felt the need to be his keeper. For some reason he reminds me of a little puppy dog. You should see his leg start hopping when I scratch him behind the ear or pat him on the rump. Of course, sometimes I worry. I spend so much time emptying his pockets of all those slingshots and paper airplanes. I mean, when is he going to grow up? I canít be there everyday to watch him during class. And if not me, then who will?î
The answer to that question, since August 2000, has been the 90-something other second-year medical students, who must endure Cox and Ketchís incessant talking during lectures, day in and day out.
ìItís really incredible,î said Sarah Weiderholdt. ìThose 2 will just hold their own conversation about nothing while Dr. Gardner is bearing his soul about pituitary tumors. And they wonít use their library voices; theyíll use their Harpoís voices (not that Iíve ever been there.) Theyíll say something that doesnít make sense, then laugh hysterically about it, just by themselves. And then you hear Brodeur, just repeating ëThatís hi-lar-i-ousí over and over again.î
When informed of Weiderholdtís accusations, Ketch replied, ìFuckin awesome dude no beer what oh shit hey chicks cool Brittany Spears.î Iím still working to translate that.
But now letís turn to Justin Cox. In many ways, I admire him even more, as he has had to surpass additional challenges. Take a good look at Cox. See the disproportionately long arms and legs? The chronic school failure and misbehavior. Weíve heard about his small testicles and no-good semen. Yes, Cox also suffers from Klinefelterís Syndrome, and yet he has been able to maintain a near-worthwhile life. ìHe is a textbook case,î states Dr. Stephen Braddock of the child health-genetics department. ìAnd although I despise the term, saying that he has a simian crease seems perfectly appropriate in his case.î
Thanks to Coxís mental incapacities, he has made some grave mistakes during his first two years of medical school, especially with finances. Consider the fact he blew his entire refund check from Jesse Hall last year on a projection TV and enough computer memory to download a J. Otto Lottes-sized library of porn. As Cox explains, ìHey, I may not know cyclophosphamide from cyclosporine, but I can quote you the entire chronology of the works of Peter North.î
Another Cox endeavor, not surprisingly copiloted by his cohort Ketch, was their decision last summer to start a lawn mowing service to earn some extra cash. The Office of Medical Education provided them with their first job, giving them each $150 to mow the grass outside the library for the entire summer. But instead of completing the deal, they decided to keep the money and go on vacations. So not only has their condition left them brainless. It has also apparently rendered them without souls.
You may ask,
how did these two ever get in position to become doctors? What about the MCAT?
The test did present a challenge, but after their mental deficits were
considered, they were allotted one full week to take the test, open book.
Their crayon-marked answer sheets had to be tallied by hand and revealed
identical scores of 13. Not surprisingly, they were denied admission to MU.
However, that denial was overruled in the landmark 1999 case, ìCotcherside
v. Nolke,î in which the judge declared the MCAT to
be ìracially biased against white alcoholic frat guys.î Of course, this was
not the only reason they were granted admission. Letís just say the
So you see, these two students have shown me that there is more to life than Playstation and poker. Cox and Ketch have shown me that one can enjoy life with nothing more than a permanent mindset of ignorant bliss.