poem

Gross AnatomyThe first day of gross labI unzipped the canvas drapeAnd there was my own pale face,Those vacant lifeless eyes.I shouldn ’t have been surprised. After all it was my own choiceTo donate this body to science.It ’s right there on my license.And so I went about the unseemly business;Icutmyself by my own hand,Opened this shell for all to see.Who ever learned anything Without a little self harm?It sounds so awful but No one sounded the alarm.This is all on the up and up.  I ’m here to helpI ’m here to educate,Myself, most of all.This is the day I finally get to look inside.I thought I knew this body so wellBut it ’s easy to get lost,Easy to lose your orientationBeing in the places that have never felt the light.(Shocking the number of times I had to reference the guide)You have tolabeleverything so you don ’t forget,Like blazing a trailThough a forbidden wood.Little red tipped pins plunged into:Ulnar nerveAccessory spleenInferior epigastric veinRecurrent laryngealCorona mortisPoplitealEverything gets a name.  Dissection is slow and laborious.So many structures to identify and weigh Everything except for the heartWhich I ’m afraid to touchFragile, fearful it will fall apart.At least I can see it nowin its grayed stillnesswhile it pounds away invisibleinside my own living chest.At the end of the hourEverything returns to the hollows.White sheet pulled over my headMy gutted corpse bastedin a shallow pool of formal...

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - September 19, 2019 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs