Padawanbater2
Well-Known Member
"You know, as someone who's gone through a full cadaver dissection in an anatomy lab... yeah. I had to apply some stoic principles to get through it. It was easy to be working on some small part, cleaning it up, then to step back and be hit with the fact that it was a living human being that I was cutting apart in an inherently violent and intimate way. To have nightmares during the beginning of the course. To be suddenly disgusted while cutting a pork loin at home into pork chops to fry up for dinner. I can still vividly remember the CRACK of ribs snapping and the smell of formaldehyde.
But as we studied our donors’ hands, I couldn’t help but wonder about the people whose lives he touched or if he had ever played an instrument. When we studied his eyes and feet, I wondered whether he liked old art or if he’d ever been to Spain or even left our home state. And as we studied his heart and brain, I wondered about whether he’d hated math and about the people he’d loved.
It's easy to start distancing yourself from the realities of what you're seeing--to essentially block it out, turn to gallows humor, and forget or make fun of the human body as a coping mechanism, a way to deal with mortality and the cultural taboo of death by putting those emotions and thoughts in a bottle and pretend they're not there.
But over time, it was important to reconnect to the donor. To not let those feelings in the drivers seat or to kick them out into the road, but to acknowledge them and put them in the passenger seat, allowing them to inform our actions but not dictate them.
Eventually, the group kind of came to that conclusion. Those initial feelings of terror and trepidation at the thought of dissecting a human being were replaced with a sort of somber acceptance, sincere gratitude, and shared camaraderie. The donors taught me that we are more than the sum of our parts. The fantastic beauty of the human body is, ultimately, machinery to be used by the person, but the person is not the same as the body, and it is definitely not the same as the disease they may suffer from.
Out of the chaos of chemicals, tissues, and connections, patterns can emerge that are as unique as they are beautiful. We also got a hint of the social patterns behind our donors when we learned their cause of death. It showed me that those biological and social patterns contribute to the people we all are, and that despite the differences we all have, commonalities exist between all people. And as the ashes of the donors’ bodies were finally returned to the families, it reminded me that from dust we came, and, one day, to dust we shall return.
It was a powerful experience, one that I wouldn't trade for the world yet hope to never have to do again. But if I do, I'll be ready for it, and I'll have a new appreciation for both my time here on Earth and how I can impact those around me and better my skills and learn from the unlikeliest of sources."
https://np.reddit.com/r/Stoicism/comments/49kuh9/easy_there_marcus/d0t1g21
I thought you guys might enjoy this
But as we studied our donors’ hands, I couldn’t help but wonder about the people whose lives he touched or if he had ever played an instrument. When we studied his eyes and feet, I wondered whether he liked old art or if he’d ever been to Spain or even left our home state. And as we studied his heart and brain, I wondered about whether he’d hated math and about the people he’d loved.
It's easy to start distancing yourself from the realities of what you're seeing--to essentially block it out, turn to gallows humor, and forget or make fun of the human body as a coping mechanism, a way to deal with mortality and the cultural taboo of death by putting those emotions and thoughts in a bottle and pretend they're not there.
But over time, it was important to reconnect to the donor. To not let those feelings in the drivers seat or to kick them out into the road, but to acknowledge them and put them in the passenger seat, allowing them to inform our actions but not dictate them.
Eventually, the group kind of came to that conclusion. Those initial feelings of terror and trepidation at the thought of dissecting a human being were replaced with a sort of somber acceptance, sincere gratitude, and shared camaraderie. The donors taught me that we are more than the sum of our parts. The fantastic beauty of the human body is, ultimately, machinery to be used by the person, but the person is not the same as the body, and it is definitely not the same as the disease they may suffer from.
Out of the chaos of chemicals, tissues, and connections, patterns can emerge that are as unique as they are beautiful. We also got a hint of the social patterns behind our donors when we learned their cause of death. It showed me that those biological and social patterns contribute to the people we all are, and that despite the differences we all have, commonalities exist between all people. And as the ashes of the donors’ bodies were finally returned to the families, it reminded me that from dust we came, and, one day, to dust we shall return.
It was a powerful experience, one that I wouldn't trade for the world yet hope to never have to do again. But if I do, I'll be ready for it, and I'll have a new appreciation for both my time here on Earth and how I can impact those around me and better my skills and learn from the unlikeliest of sources."
https://np.reddit.com/r/Stoicism/comments/49kuh9/easy_there_marcus/d0t1g21
I thought you guys might enjoy this
