Discomforting

For the last two weeks in anatomy lab we have been sawing through a human head. It's discomforting. At first we were just sawing through the occipital and temporal bones. But then we started skinning the face. At first I found it amusing that our body, Debbie, was still very attractive with only dermis covering her face. But then we cut through her, straight down--through the chin, lips, nose, forehead. Between the eyes. Still pretty. But then we took a hand saw to her face. When we opened her mouth we looked around her palate. She was missing teeth. A lot. She only had 22. Most people have 32-36 (wisdom teeth are obnoxiously removed). I noted a cavity that hadn't been filled. No fake teeth had been added to her alveolar plate.

Someone suggested that perhaps Debbie was homeless. That did not sit right with me.

So I forgot about it.

It's really interesting, getting to know someone on a rather intimate level. Debbie, this entire year, has seemed very real to me. I have enjoyed getting to know her. But it has made me think. I'm thinking about the patients I might one day have. I'm thinking about all the information they'll give me that I'll have to file away under "TMI" and all the information I will be legally obligated to write down. And then there will be things I will want to forget but can't. I am sure even in this I will be happy I chose the profession. People are fascinating. I could observe people all day. I am excited for that part of medicine. What I am worried about is that I may one day be able to handle discomforting information much more readily than I do now. And if I no longer feel  can I still be capable of empathizing? Because whenever something bad happens to someone, the natural response is to imagine how you would feel if you were them--mirror neurons fire away and all that jazz. That's why when you see someone break their ankle, you're suddenly much more aware of the weight pressing down on your feet.

Which is why I should be wincing in pain as my lab partners hack at Debbie's skull. But I no longer feel like something is horribly wrong when I probe through her nerves and vessels, peel away connective tissue, rub my fingers on exposed bone. I feel like a serial killer.

Now that's discomforting.