Written 07-23-05
We officially finished our cadaver experience – our much touted GROSS anatomy. Some of it was rather anti-climactic – the bodies were so dry and so dead and so old and so misshapen with giant livers, and square hearts and full cecums. But I guess that’s what we all are anyway. We always wanted more – more time with them, more flesh, more freshness, more structures that looked like the paintings in the books. But then we wanted less; less time, less smell of formaldehyde, less exam questions, less forced time in a cold room with dead bodies and itchy faces. So we got what we wished for and I’m a better person because of it. That first day of introduction was oh so long ago – and I’m ready to move on.
As we cleaned up the bodies – I was forced into song – literally - by the Lord I’m sure.
My voice began singing to them –quietly of course – but very distinct songs. I was singing for my old lady with the entire face and the obese guy with the large omentum and the muscular lady with the purple finger nails and the amazing quadratus lumborum. I was worshipping for them – in our wild and chaotic funeral service we had for them as we cleaned up the room, scouring the tables and ridding the room of liquid fat, old organs and pieces of lost flesh – I really couldn’t help singing. I hope my lady was looking at us – they almost seemed to be gazing down – relieved that they were done with their work on earth – they had one last noble job to do – to teach us what their insides really were – for better or worse – and they were finally finished. Revealing to us every internal secret, all the bottles of jack daniels they ever downed, the nasty midnight McDonald's runs - we could see it. We saw those stitches form the open heart surgery –the staples from the missing gallbladder - or that uterus that bore them their 3 children and remained intact through it all – complete w/ large fibroids. I really think our lady was watching and she was hanging out with us as we cleaned her up, stacked her with the rest and got them ready for the incinerator in their clean black plastic bags. They were done.
Officially done. Just like us. We all celebrated together.
And I sang.
1 comment:
hi sister... first of all, to get rid of spam comments enable the "word verification for comments" option. byebye, spam. great first post. you're ready for npr for sure. i think you should call it something about the white coat, or some obscure medical name. a lot of people use an excerpt from a song or poem: beautiful messing people, every day a beautiful chance, little pieces of the sky...depending on the direction of your blog, think about what phrase captures the heart of it; your heart. either way, you should put some kind of tagline about what most of your posts will be about. mine is "some thoughts on teaching, faith, and life in seattle."
so proud of you. now we just need to get pastor mark to start one. it's on the way i hear.
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