Talk to your dead.

By Marilú Acosta

One of the subjects that made us most nervous in the first year of medicine was anatomy. We were overwhelmed by the amount of information we would have to learn, plus we didn't know what the consequences of visiting the amphitheater would be. At some point, we convinced ourselves that we would never eat meat again after dissecting the dead (we did). The amphitheater was located in the basement and the bodies were kept in metal vats, the first visit we made with all of them closed. It was a large space in beige colors, which contrasted with the metallic of the vats and from the stairs you were greeted by a pungent chemical smell that made you feel stings in your nose. That smell was mixed with the smell of plastic gloves and the blue ink of our surgical gowns.

We went down to the first dissection, it was a new building and it caught my attention that some mosaics were missing on the way to the amphitheater. I left my backpack in the lockers, put on my robe, gloves and now with everything ready, I entered the amphitheater where three tubs had their doors open, exposing their respective bodies. We were asked to be respectful and grateful to those who once had life, we were also warned that we were not the only ones who would dissect them, all four classrooms would work on those only three bodies, so our dissections had to be impeccable. The professors described the procedures but I could not pay attention.

In my mind, phrases that hurt me appeared. "They are looking for me, tell my family that I am here. I have a wife and three children. I live in the State of Mexico in a house. Let my family know, tell them I'm fine, that I'm coming back." I looked at my classmates and they all seemed to be concentrating on the professor's words. I walked away from the tub, I started walking along the amphitheater not knowing what to do. A friend came up to me and asked me what was wrong, I didn't know what was wrong with me! I didn't understand why I had those phrases drilling in my head. I explained to her, she told me: jump, go up to the living room. I went out, got some fresh air, saw the sun and came back: I had to explain to our dead man that he was in a medical school and that I didn't know how to reach his family.

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