Jane Doe
And as she lay there on the cold metal table,
her eyes closed – precise, slow, the bold blade enabled
the shade tour, the guide show, her rose petals labeled,
the stage door was slight-closed, the soul place was vacant.
The days she would play for the world, no replacement.
...I wonder when she was a girl or a baby,
her thoughts and her dreams and her meaning, how'd she make it?
How often it seemed life was ripe for the taking.
The losses she gleaned for some pearls in the making.
The odd ambiance of resplendence, I face it,
I give it
my time till I've incorporated
the gift that is a life into my mental framing.
We won't take these gifts as granted hand-me-downs for nascent,
slowly seeing, growing healers, training our humane sense.
I think this
thing is sacred, what a righteous way –
“take my vessel and examine.” What a final say.
Thank you, Jane Doe.
I pray the next thin space my 10-blade creates in a live one,
it invades to make some years stay on the horizon.
As we sift through the pain and we seek to age enlightened,
may we always remember when we first laid eyes on
Jane Doe.
We thank you, Jane Doe.
Description:
Sometimes a reflection, often a journal entry, maybe best when a bit of both, here in "Jane Doe" I explore my own thoughts and gratitude around engaging with one of the most fundamental aspects of early medical education: gross anatomy. As students in anatomy class, we partner with people who we will never have the pleasure of meeting alive to explore their most intimate of possessions. We quite literally cut them open in order to observe their inner most everything. We hold their heart. In "Jane Doe", I explore my appreciation for how the anatomy donor I worked with held my own heart in return.