CADAVER DAY 1

Throwback to when I could not come close to dead bodies...

Don't mind that I sound like I have warmed up to them; I still don't really feel comfortable around them, but it is much better now. At least I can now breathe the same air as them (if they could breathe).

How were we introduced to dead bodies in med school? Simple. Cadaver day 1. Before we were taken to the lab (or should I call it a morgue?), we heard stories of people that fainted, vomited or even could not sleep for days after their first day. While the lecturers and senior colleagues narrated these stories on different occasions, I promised not to be that girl that broke down before her first dead body (I hate when people think 'girl' is synomous to weak and I am always willing to prove it). I was still agitated and unenthusiastic, but my fear was geared towards the possibility of recognising one of the bodies. Maybe I would see an old neighbour or a friend's brother or something creepy like that. Thinking about it was hell.

Then came the d day. I remember standing in front of the lab and daring myself to walk in and praying that my worst nighmare did not come alive. Before you could even decide to walk in, the formalin had a way of keeping you at the door. The choking smell pulled tears out of my eyes as I walked past a display of black bony bodies that dripped with the fixative. After blinking repeatedly and swallowing the vomit in my throat that threatened to see the world, I decided I was ready for my practical class.

I recognised no one. I doubt anyone had ever really had such a traumatizing experience, but it was still a huge relief to know that I was not the first. I walked slowly around the room and waited for a body to be assigned to me. Soon enough, the novelty of the carcass dumping ground wore off and I was ready to cut (I might be a butcher in my next life😂). Before the lecturer could say Jack Robinson, my eye service alter ego emerged and I was dissecting someone that used to have a life. I was picking out the skin, fascia, muscles... I was really on a roll.

Guess who had other plans for me. Mother nature! While I was in my surgeon mode, I realised I was suddenly dripping with sweat. I was not the type that had sweating episodes like that and the moment I released my wardcoat was getting wet, I had a rethink. Alarm bells rang in my head as I stepped away from the corpse. My main concern while I backed away towards a corner, was not drawing attention to myself. I struggled to keep the vomit that had hit my tongue right where it belonged. I still wanted my reputation intact when I went home that day. Who wanted to be that girl that puked at the sight of her first corpse. Not me.

While I squatted at a corner well away from my classmates, I found myself opening a few too many buttons. My blue bra stared back at me as I looked down, but I could not care less. I needed air more than the heavens needed me to be decent. I needed to stop the room from swaying. After seeing stars for a while and doing a few breath exercises, I got myself together, put my bra back where it belonged and stood up to join the rest of the class. No head had turned since I vacated the table.

"Can you see the biceps muscle?" I heard my lecturer ask. "Appreciate it!"
I stood at a safe distance and peeped at the left arm of the body. The biceps muscle was there alright, but I had no plans of coming too close. After all, my Anatomy atlas had been doing a great job at making me appreciate human body parts in paper form ever since we started the course. That was good enough for me.