“It’s the only place where the dead teach the living” echoed one of the senior medical students. I could not’t imagine such a situation happening anywhere on the globe. I said to myself this is a nightmare and I am dreaming. But when one of my friends asked me if I have heard that sentence I knew I was awake
That was my first day at MUCHS.I knew that my dream had come true for having a chance to step in a medical school and nothing could come between me and my dream coming true.
“Dr” was the initial I had inscribed on my notebook the day I left home for college. I made sure every one would read it all the way on the bus stand to my hall of residence. I felt like those days when my mom had taken my hand and introduced me to my kindergarten teacher. All the joy of putting on a new pair of shorts and black shoes was incomparable. Albeit this was different, stories on how it was supposed to be didn’t match my expectation. Patients, injections, blood, gloves were the only words that revolved in my mind once one mentioned the word medicine.
It was a sunny morning just like the other days of September in Dar es Salaam. I had put on my best shirt since the timetable said we will have a talk with the principal then we would be shown around the college thereafter. The speech was remarkable with the principal introducing the members of the high table with nothing less; Professor X, doctor Y and so other tittles I had heard but never seen one with one. Then he ended by introducing himself with the same forewords “professor” something clicked my mind ‘this place is no joke, everyone has such a long name ’.I sensed that may be some have all the titles but don’t mention them to save time. I could imagine mine being purely traditional and my other surname too, adding those initials would consume not less than five minutes just introducing me. A smile filled my face…!
After the welcoming note some senior students paraded us around the college. Every word they used sounded scientific and purely medical. “You will be adducting, abducting and circumdacting all the way to the CPL before you get all your gastrocnemius, satorius, and your gluteus fatigue”. Before he could finish his fellow added ”by the time you get up in the morning all your lattissimus will be paining but not much as your sternocleidomastoid and trapezius. They couldn’t resist using abbreviation so we could have more questions on what the letters stood for. One of them who seemed more keen on HIV/AIDS talked much about the situation at college and then he stood boldly and loudly spout out a sentence that soothed every bodies mind ”A pregnant girl is HIV positive unless proved otherwise” the corners of my lips twitched; these guys are indisputable!
When we reached the laboratories there was this lab written “no admission” Our guides made sure we read the sign and it’s when he gave us that notorious sentence which turned my expectations into a nightmare.
I don’t remember anything he said but all the time he would mention this word “cadaver” a word I came latter on to realize carried no weight than its counterpart corps.
Days passed and every time I would dream of nothing but that room and that word .But before I recomposed my esteem our lecturer announced we would be starting practical soon and all of us had to fetch white coats and that soon was nothing than the following day. That night I couldn’t sleep. My imagination gyrated between the expectation and the reality. “Will I faint as he said? will I run away as he hinted? Maybe I shouldn’t go; my fellows will give me the experience so I will see if I can face the reality, may be…..maybe…..” All were maybes till my alarm clock work me up for classes on that day I will never forget.
As we were arranged in groups I could see solid faces and erect students. No one talked or moved. The only sound you could hear was the humming of the air-conditioner. Although the room felt cool I could see streaks of sweat on some faces. Everybody looked white from the coats we wore and this remained me of the stories in the Holly books on how saints will all look like on the resurrection day. I was shoved on one table which had about other nine white-coated-frightened students. I opened my eyes anxiously on the object which laid on the steel table in front of us covered in a plastic bag. Then there came a loud voice from our lecturer that we had to open the bags and follow the manuals as it was stipulated.
No on moved for a second and then everybody glanced on his or her colleague as if they had not heard what was said or it was said in a language only understood by the objects lying on the steel tables. Slowly I could see how people started to move their arms towards the object as young kids learn to touch objects; clumsily and cautiously. In about five minutes all the bags were off and all eyes were as large as tennis balls. Slowly I moved my hands touching with one fingertip to another till the entire palm rested on the skin. Yes, I can feel it…Yes, I can touch it… Yes, I can do it…… everything was “yes” in my mind…..!!! One could see those faces once solid as rocks turning fleshy and round from smiles and soft whispers..
A voice was heard from one corner as one started to read the dissection manual and all heads turned to see if that voice came from a person they came in with or one they found inside. In about a minute I could hear reading sounds and grudging sounds as people swallowed saliva and others tried to wash away the taste that came from chemicals that filled the room from the objects we latter started calling cadaver.
As the day was approaching to the end every body part ached from standing up for a long time but no one could feel it since were all sharing our experience.
“Ours was a man “said one girl with a grin on her face as if she had seen her Mr. charming.
“Ours was a woman” I said, and we both busted into laughter.
I could think of nothing than taking a bath and when I reached the shower room my body was smelly as the cadaver and all my eyes were red from the tears that came from the chemicals.
As I climbed on my bed to sleep that night I couldn’t think of anything than going back to a room where the dead teach the living!!
sept 2004/MD2
No comments:
Post a Comment