The Thorax

It sounds like a Dr. Seuss story, doesn't it? Anyone remember the Lorax? Anyone?
But it's not...no Sneeches, no clear-cutting, no Grinch. Just the human trunk--the thorax, which is what we're currently looking at in anatomy.

On Friday we opened up the rib cage to get at the stuff inside. It was simultaneously fascinating and off-putting in that 1) It's not every day you get to look at real, honest-to-Buddha lungs and hearts, but 2) It's also not every day that you go at a human body with a SAW. And bonecutters, which are essentially larger and more specialized versions of wire-cutters. And in a way, it did feel like to sort of breaking and entering people generally get up to with wire-cutters (I can't say I've ever heard of anyone using wire-cutters for anything respectable, thought I'm sure it must happen--It can't all be stealing bikes and getting into chain-link fences). Instead of entering someone's compound, however, we were entering someone's chest. I was elected by our group to do the first few cuts of the ribs (again with the if-you're-squeamish-skip-down-a-bit warning) and I have to say, it was hard work, and made a sound that could be described as either disgusting or highly satisfying, depending on your bent. The clavicles and xiphoid process (the end of your sternum) we went after with a saw, since apparently they're too tough for even bonecutters to work (yes, it was essentially a saw just like the kind you'd use on wood, with the exception that it was bright yellow and due to someone previously doing a less-than-stellar cleaning job had bits of...something organic on it). I'll admit it made me a little woozy, and I handed over the cutters as soon as I'd done my requisite couple of ribs.

I didn't actually see the heart; it's covered by pericardium, really very well veiled by filmy white tissue, which seems appropriate--who wouldn't guard their heart a bit? Don't we all do that, not just anatomically but metaphorically and emotionally? The lungs were on full display, however, with their covering of slippery, whisper-thin pleura, and as springy and pink as the various preservative solutions would allow (soft tissues have a tendency to harden in the presence of preservatives, which is advantageous in many ways but not so great in others). One of the neighboring tables' cadavers was a long-time smoker...needless to say, there were dark spots all over and the lungs weren't nearly as pink and spongy as ours. Perhaps medical school will finally cure me of my smoking addiction once and for all--nothing like looking at the actual, physical results of your particular vice to get you to "straighten up and fly right," as my father would say.