When I was a sprout I would have happily operated on one or both of my brothers. I carried a Boy Scout pocket knife I had specially sharpened just so I could do medical procedures on them, like saving their lives after a rattlesnake bite or an appendectomy or even a tracheotomy. Mom wouldn't let me get it really sharp because she was afraid I might hurt myself, so I sharpened it with edge 90 degrees to the whetstone.

Never got the chance, though. No cooperation at all from rattlesnakes or their appendices or anything. Totally ruined my childhood, not being able to save my brothers' lives by amputating a cannonball-shattered leg.