Limb dissection (or, the beginning of) has got to be the most gory thing I have done so far. Each student pairs with another student which then pair with another pair to learn anatomy through dissection - one pair dissecting a leg, one pair dissecting an arm. Cadavers have their head removed (the head is then given to the 3rd years for cranial nerve dissection) and are then quartered, each pair receiving a quarter. Our job the entire semester is to dissect the limb according to Dr. Jaliya’s instructions (which are a bit vague, but that’s probably because my knowledge is limited). Each cadaver is fresh from preservation (okay so not fresh) and there is a lot of preservative and other mixed fluid seeping out whenever anyone touches anything - so stuff has to be cleared all the time, and we will go through several pairs of gloves (we double glove each hand) due to the fact that latex is actually quite permeable to cadaver juice. I’ve learned also to roll up my sleeves before putting my lab coat on.

First session was spent removing the internal organs, to make the cadaver lighter. This requires no tools whatsoever except a pair of strong, daring hands. Anything removed from the cadaver is placed in a special bag with only that cadaver’s remains (which eventually will get cremated when the university is done with the entire cadaver.) Each session after that so far has been spent removing fat (all ONE sessions after that) because our cadaver happens to have a high fat content.

I’m not allowed to show pictures, but if you were in first year and walked through our dissection room to get to Resource, you’ll see how gory it is Or, you might see how interesting it is and be mesmerised. Yeah right.

I know that makes it sound like some sort of desperate cause that I’ve been championing since I was born, such as the non-consumption of broccoli stalks. And so I shall have to disappoint you all… a while only really means a few weeks, a month and a bit.

And it has nothing to do with medicine but I guess it’s prime blogging material.

…ironic, because I used to sit - usually on a long boring bus ride home or similar such situation (lecture anyone? ) - wishing “something” would happen, just to break the apparent monotony of life in general. I think a lot of us do. Or maybe I’m just ungrateful for stability. Or have an overactive imagination that longs to tell stories. hmm. I like the idea of the latter. Let’s leave it at that!

But yes, so something happened that is blog-worthy. And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t one of the things that I daydream about whilst the bus gets stuck going round a particularly small roundabout on the route (eg. “win the trip of a lifetime rafting down the amazon”, “buy winning lottery ticket”, “maybe that guy two seats in front is actually the Prince of Fairytaleland and lives next door to me for some reason and we’ll fall in love and I’ll become a princess” -NB: any of these for my birthday *wink wink nudge nudge*… maybe not the last one, I think that’s a bit much to expect >.< )

Basically, as many of you would know, my medball night ended in a less than glamourous fashion. Well it didn't "end" full stop, which is a very very good thing, but other events took over. And without going into details, I learnt just how scary a car going at 45 km/h can be. And what it's like to be on your feet (in beautiful silver heels) one minute and then accelerating head first into the road at approximately 9.8 m/s^2 the next. And what it really is to be shivering cold (I'd like to be able to say I haven't complained about being cold at any time since, but unfortunately I have...).

I also learnt how valuable friends are, no matter how close or distant they are to you, strangers even. And how lucky we are to have a healthcare system that will take care of you, although maybe it isn’t perfect.

But most of all (and what I think I really wanted to write about -finally, sorry ), what it’s like when something terrible that you never ever thought would physically happen to you in your lifetime happens, and to remember every single moment of it.

You can watch this sort of event happen in a movie, or hear about it in the news, and think “ow that must hurt” or “how horrible that must have been”… but my experience has been that it’s really not the same. There’s something about being able to connect all those causes and consequences with the “physical” memory of an experience that’s branded onto your mind.

The knowledge that you never want it to happen again imparts a sort of fear - not a disabling fear but one of protection. Then something strange happens. Well as I see it, anyway. For me that memory is starting to become “normal”, just like many other significant memories I have. The colours are the same but the lines are fainter. Or is the detail the same but the colours less vivid? I’m not sure. But I can see the bruises are almost all gone now, and just the obvious mark remains. Maybe as a link to that memory…

P.S. I know it’s kind of a long Video but it’s worth watching.

P.P.S I hope everyone is having a great holiday