People juice

I am currently reading a book titled, "Stiff: The Life of Human Cadavers" by Mary Roach. It was loaned to me by a colleague, whose supervisor had just finished it. She and I had discussed the book, and she knew I was interested in reading it. Apparently she was having difficulty making her way through it (can't imagine why...) and loaned it to me to read and return when I'm done.

Twisted. I know. But there's a reason, albeit slighlty warped, but a reason nonetheless. I'm just not sure where to start this sordid tale, so I'll begin where every story should start: at the beginning.

Almost 10 years ago now (!!) I took a job working for an agency in a town far, far from home. It was a job I was totally excited about doing, and one that has taken me through various twists and turns I never would have expected to expereince otherwise. One of those twists was having to work in a cadaver lab.

At first I was a bit put off by this idea, while simultaneously excited and morbidly curious. I had seen a dead body before (my mother's), but to actually see one being dissected and studied for the sake of science held trepidation, excitement, fear, dread, all wrapped up in my sick and twisted sense of what's funny. Seeing a cadaver prepped for anatomical study is waaaaaay different than seeing the freshly deceased remains of my maternal unit. But I digress...

It was a very surreal experience. One that I appreciated, since regular schmoes like me would never have reason to be in such close proximity to the dear departed. Once the initial shock wore off (and it took a while to wear off!!), and I learned how to see these remains as educational tools and not as people (hello!! defense mechanism!!), the lab became more of a lingering odor than an horrific nightmarish experience. I'm sure there are those that wouldn't've been able to tolerate it, but I'm a bit off kilter so I adjusted.

The day that lives in infamy in my mind is this: I was in the lab, talking to my coworker, vaguely aware of the cadaver not too far from me being dissected by a group of medical students, one of whom in particular was the reason for my presence in lab in the first place. Part of me became aware of the fact that the cadaver had been turned over on it's stomach, and an old-fashioned metal trash can, much like I imagine are found in Catholic schools around the country, was perched rather vicariously on it's upper back, steadied and balanced by the shoulder blades. And it was brimming--chock full of...scraps. One of the legs had been totally amputated, and was laying across the buttock area of the cadaver. It was this no-longer-attached leg that was the current source of attention for the students. And it was because of the dissection of this leg that the rest of the body was shaking, as the students hacked away with scalpels, sending reverbertions up the body to this aforementioned trashcan that was, I say again, chock full o'scrap.

I decided that the better part of valor would be to call attention to the fact that the trashcan was being jostled and jarred, and in it's overfull state was in dire need of emptying before it fell off the body, onto the floor, and spilled out it's rather dubious contents. "Uhm...guys?" I said, to the group of students. "That trashcan seem to be perilously close to falling off and spilling..." I was wholeheartedly poo-pooed by eveyone in the group, as their attention was more fixed on various and assundry anatomical details of the leg at hand (as it were). "No...really... it's... uhm...jiggling." My warnings and misgivings went unheeded, and the students continued to work on their prosection. I gave up, and went back to my conversation with my colleague, trying to disregard the jello-like appearance of the goo and yuck that was in the wastebin.

And then it happened.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it fall. Now, my brain wasn't engaged past the, "Oh-crap-something's-falling-catch-it-catch-it-catch-it" phase. So, in a kneejerk reaction, I reached out and grabbed for the trashcan. The sounds of horror and disgust that instantly eminated from my throat, supported by my diaphragm and coming straight up from my toes drew everyone's attention. I had just grabbed, not the trashcan per se, but handsfuls of goo and yuck and discarded stuff... and I wasn't wearing any gloves.

As quickly as I reached to catch the trashbin, I let it go; the metal container hit the tiled floor and sprayed it's contents everywhere, most of which came shooting straight ahead and at me, since I was in the path of projection. It was like I was being pojectile-vomitted on by this wastebasket. As a result, I was now covered in people juice from about the knees down. I remember a noise...this loud, fearful, disgusted noise. It was a beat or two before I realized that sound was me screaming at the top of my lungs in complete horror and disgust. It was far and away THE nastiest experience I've ever had. Ever.

Fast forward about ten years, and I find myself having the spuriously proud distinction to be in similar circumstances: cadaver lab. Different institution. Different group of coworkers. But once again surrounded by dead bodies. While I'm totally jazzed about it, and a bit more thick-skinned than I was the first time, I have that nightmarish experience in the forefront of my mind. (It is for that reason that whenever I am in any situation at work where there's even the slightest chance of unexpected touching, I put on gloves. One of the singlemost brilliant decisions I've ever had as there have been several cases of unexpected touching over the last ten years, for which I am glad for latex!)

It is because of this rich and sordid history that I was interested in reading "Stiff."

Quite the fascinating read, if you can stomach it. It is essentially a history of anatomical study and research, how cadavers have been used, are still used today, for a myriad of research, the idea of which I never would have entertained prior to reading this book.

If you have a strong stomach, hugely morbid curiosity, and black sense of humor, I highly recommend it. It will give you a whole new appreciation for just what donating your body to science can mean.

Happy reading!