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7:32 PM
otakuphy
Last night my friend and I were fortunate enough to be given a tour of the cadaver lab at the medical side of my university. Sadly (and understandably) there was a strict "no photos" rule in place which, in this case, I chose to abide by.
It was late on a Saturday meaning the buildings were as good as deserted as we made our way down "authorized personel only" corridors which eventually gave way to the chilly human anatomy classroom. Inside, we were met with about 36 covered human bodies laid out on tables beneath arrays of medical lights and large LCD monitors. At the foot of each plastic sheet was signage indicating the corpses sex, age, occupation, and cause of death. We were chosen one at random, a 92 year old female who died of lung cancer, to uncover.
I was surprised to find myself rather at ease with what I saw under the sheet. The head was wrapped in plastic and cheesecloth which was there to ease students into the idea of dissecting an actual human being. The stage of dissection was at the area of the chest where the rib cage had been cut open with the heart and lungs removed and wrapped in gauze. It was an odd feeling to have a human heart pulled from a chest in front of me and put into my hands. I felt my curiosity bubble as I felt along all the different textures of the organs I was handed.
The second body we looked at, a 72 year old male, struck me a little differently. Much of his skin was still attached and bits around the rib cage was perfectly filleted so it was as if he was wearing a jacket made from his own flesh. I must admit, it is strange to pick up a piece of leather-ish material with a nipple and chest hair still attached :/
After having left, formaldehyde still stinging my nose, I caught myself pondering my own mortality. I pulled at my chest and realized that, underneath it all, I am just like them. I am simply a compilation of various matter which can deconstructed as simply as those laying motionless in the lab.
In the end, we are truly all the same. It is what we decide to do with the time spent in these meat shells that sets us apart in the world and determines the quality of our remarkably temporary physical residency.
It was late on a Saturday meaning the buildings were as good as deserted as we made our way down "authorized personel only" corridors which eventually gave way to the chilly human anatomy classroom. Inside, we were met with about 36 covered human bodies laid out on tables beneath arrays of medical lights and large LCD monitors. At the foot of each plastic sheet was signage indicating the corpses sex, age, occupation, and cause of death. We were chosen one at random, a 92 year old female who died of lung cancer, to uncover.
I was surprised to find myself rather at ease with what I saw under the sheet. The head was wrapped in plastic and cheesecloth which was there to ease students into the idea of dissecting an actual human being. The stage of dissection was at the area of the chest where the rib cage had been cut open with the heart and lungs removed and wrapped in gauze. It was an odd feeling to have a human heart pulled from a chest in front of me and put into my hands. I felt my curiosity bubble as I felt along all the different textures of the organs I was handed.
The second body we looked at, a 72 year old male, struck me a little differently. Much of his skin was still attached and bits around the rib cage was perfectly filleted so it was as if he was wearing a jacket made from his own flesh. I must admit, it is strange to pick up a piece of leather-ish material with a nipple and chest hair still attached :/
After having left, formaldehyde still stinging my nose, I caught myself pondering my own mortality. I pulled at my chest and realized that, underneath it all, I am just like them. I am simply a compilation of various matter which can deconstructed as simply as those laying motionless in the lab.
In the end, we are truly all the same. It is what we decide to do with the time spent in these meat shells that sets us apart in the world and determines the quality of our remarkably temporary physical residency.
