My Cadaver Story

From day one we’ve been harped on about professionalism. Well today was gross anatomy lab day 1 and we were going to be introduced to our cadaver and I was determined to be no less than 120% professional.

Our group assembled uncertainly around B5, our assigned table. On it lay a body covered under a white sheet. We peered at the form curiously and then at each other hesitantly, I think none of us were too eager to unveil what was beneath quite just yet.

Finally the professor’s clear directive rang out. “Remove the white sheet.” We complied. I looked curiously at the body and the first thing I wondered was, “what gender?” I looked first at the chest. It was flat, with protruding nipples. I thought, “oh, so it is probably male.” But then I looked further down and saw the absence of signifying organs and then I readjusted my logical reasoning. “oh, it is a rather thin female.”

A few kids looked over at our body, made the “yuck face” as they stared in morbid fascination at the green spots that had arisen on certain parts of our body. They smirked and said, “this one has mold.” I thought it was rather obnoxious of them, though I reasoned they were in part dealing with their own nervousness. I was already feeling connected to the body as well as somewhat protective.

The professor asked us to cut the plastic bag from the body. I grabbed the scissors and started zipping down the middle. My brisk business-like gestures belie my own hidden tremulous feelings. I was, truth be told, probably hyperventilating subconsciously because I was taking care to not inhale through my nose. When I got to the area near her face, I felt for a moment how surreal it really was. I was an inch from a dead person and all I cared about was the rather technical and mundane issue of removing her from the plastic body bag, just as if I were removing artichokes from a plastic bag recently purchased at Pathmark.

At some point not too long after, I got a chance to, or rather, I forced myself to look at the face of the body and see her as who she once was. She was a thin old lady, with a rather petite, symmetrical and comely face. I imagine that in life, she was one of those people who made you feel better just by her very presence. At that moment, my nervousness or repressed tremors subsided and I felt instead a quiet that came over me. I thought of her bravery in making this decision and I thought of how we have, by chance, by destiny, whatever you would like to call it, come to be linked in this very special and very intimate way. At that moment, I said a little prayer of gratitude for her and I also prayed to God for both strength and humility in the coming months. The best thing I can do for her is to honor her body and to learn what I am meant to learn, in a diligent, respectful, careful way, one stroke, one day at a time.