Diane Kim

The Anatomy Lesson

I have seen the human body do incredible things; and as a midwifery student it is no surprise to others that I would say the greatest thing I’ve witnessed is the body’s ability to bring new life into the world. But just as remarkable than this is the body in death, and I know this as a student of anatomy, who has had the privilege of examining and marveling at the intricacies of the human body inside and out.

So, how do I love thee, anatomy? Let me count the ways. Lifting the bowels out of the abdominal cavity, and never quite being able to have them lie exactly as they were. Snipping away at the great cardiac vessels, in order to liberate the heart and cradle it between our hands. Tracing the indentation of the aorta along the surface of the left lung. An eye, a window to the soul, the size of a cherry between my fingers; the surprising toughness of the sclera and the oozing of the aqueous humor. And just when you thought you could name all the structures in view, there are hundreds more waiting for you to say their names and give them life.

I have to say, nothing quite triggers an existential crisis like spending time amongst the dead in anatomy lab. Before us were bodies, who had lived and loved, and were still dear to those they had left behind, still displaying a hint of life. Their faces are covered with linen shrouds, that I don’t have the courage to remove until a few days later when they are more an array of organs than bodies. I walk out of the first day of lab into the afternoon sun, confronted with the realization that I could devote myself to anatomy for the rest of my life and I would still never unlock all the secrets of the body. All of a sudden I can’t help but feel tiny and small.

By the third day my philosophical quandary is resolved and it’s business as usual. My musings are more about things like, whether I will be a vegetarian after this experience (I won’t). By the last day this body and I are the best of friends. I know her, I know right where I tucked away her foot so that I could reveal her dorsalis pedis the next morning. We use a bone saw to remove a leg in order to get a mid-sagittal view of the pelvis. As my classmates continue with their work I quietly settle into mine, discovering the vasculature of this lower extremity that has been removed from its owner. Layer by layer, I move through skin, fat and muscle, and eventually uncover the beginnings of the popliteal artery in its pearly, springy beauty. My gloves are greasy from working with adipose tissue. I am careful as I trace the winding path of the vasculature down her calf, lest I nick a vessel and spill blood onto this beautiful view. The work is so calming, so therapeutic, that my usual inner monologue now just sounds like elevator music. I find joy in the slow, methodical work and think to myself that this must be why people find joy in things like cross stitching, but I think this is much better.

I am brought back to the surface by the sound of the electrical saw and the smell of bone dust. I step up on a stool to get a better look at what is happening at the other end of the table, and see that my classmates have progressed to removing the top of her skull. As I lean over her body I realize I am cradling her hand in mine in an odd gesture of intimacy. I squeeze it harder and hope she finds comfort in knowing there are students patiently vying for their chance to hold the saw, to lift the cranial cap to discover the contents of her skull, like opening a box on Christmas day. Surely she knew this would happen, just like the donor with the words “GO HARVARD” tattooed where the sun doesn’t shine; he definitely knew, and I hope it brought him as much joy as it did to us when we saw it.

This body will be turned into ashes once we have learned what we could, but the experience will stay with me forever. We may all just be beings fighting for relevance and a place in this world and our knowledge may disappear with us, but each day I will strive to know just a little more than the day before.

About Diane

Diane is a Women’s Health and Midwifery student in the class of 2020. She enjoys traveling, reading, and happy hour. Her favorite parts of Yale include the Art Gallery, the Windham Campbell festival, and her inspiring nursing school classmates. Since moving to New Haven she has volunteered with HAVEN Free Clinic, Planned Parenthood, and the Yale Patient Navigator Program and plans on having a career in global health.