Of an umbrella and a human cadaver

Today ~ after two weeks of contemplation and procrastination ~ I finally decided to buy myself an umbrella this afternoon. Prevents sunburn, arrests my tan-lines from darkening and guards me from the heat ~ I am certain. Summer in Austin need not be unbearable for the pale candle princess.

Just after the little black umbrella entered my life, the baking sun disappeared behind the gathering clouds ~ and voila! It was cloudy and gloomy all day. What a joke! Haha.

That aside, I've had a pleasant afternoon. I read my book in a cafe (over iced matcha latte), yet gleaned inspiration from Pogany's poignant contribution to Holocaust literature, and gazed out of the glass windows at the passers-by. The gloomy weather took side with my reading in provoking an odd sense of melancholy.

And I suddenly remembered the human cadavers we used to dissect as medical students. 

(Trust me to be random.)

At the Royal College of Surgeons, those Dissection Room sessions (or "D.R." as we used to call them) were lively. There was never a dull moment ~ at least for me. We would push past the wooden door of the Dissection Room, our senses rudely awakened by the rich visual and olfactory "feast" of pale and naked corpses, into which the embalming solution of had seeped. It was quite common for first-year medical students to faint and cause some kind of horrified commotion. The D.R. was always cold but a little stuffy. We would stand around the cadavers designated to our respective groups for that particular term. Gloved professors, well beyond their years, would do their thingamajig with the cadavers... enthralling and impressing us with their time-tested expertise ~ the anatomy of the human body. I don't think anyone, having studied the anatomy of the human body, could deny the existence of God. We, students, would furiously pen down notes (very important for the fortnightly tests), learn the great lessons our cadavers taught ~ and finally, we would walk out in a daze, our lab-coats smelling strongly of the embalming solution. A constant reminder of our cadaveric "friends". I remember that I was always famished after D.R. for some strange reason. And it was nearly always meat that I craved!

The first cadaver I dissected must have been a tall, strapping man when he was alive. We first encountered him lying supine on the dissection trolley. It was hard to turn him over later in the term because he was so heavy. When I finally braved myself to gaze at his face, what instantly came to mind was a barrage of questions, beginning with "Who were you?" ~ I wondered what he was like when he was alive. Did he have a family? Grandchildren? What did he do for a living? What did he do on Sunday afternoons? Where was he in World War II? Where had his soul gone? Etc. I was humbled by a sobering sense of respect for my cadaver too. It was because men and women such as this had kindly pledged (with the support of their families) to have their corpses donated to the University post-death, that we could have our medical studies and research enriched by D.R. God had indeed blessed us with those noble, Irish unsung heroes. And the RCS honoured the families of those with a prayer and thanksgiving ceremony every year. I only wish that I had attended the ceremonies, at least once. It would have been a very interesting and moving experience for me.

Life is indeed a story. The story behind a cadaver's existence is fascinating. An individual's life is fascinating, not just because he/she was a successful person, made scores of $$$ or attempted the wackiest adventures in the world (that earned the recognition of Robert Ripley as material for his museums, maybe). Rather, it is fascinating because, he/she was born to uniquely and authentically fulfill God's great purposes on Earth ~ as one of His Image Bearers. One's life is fascinating because we know that he/she ultimately matters much to God Himself.

My cadaver was a tall and strapping man, who ultimately mattered much to God Himself.

You matter much to God. Yes you. And me. Despite our pains and trials, we've got to remember this truth.

Above all, God so loved us that He sent Jesus Christ to die for our sins on the cross ~ so that those who believe, after finishing our God-given assignments on Earth, may rest with Him for eternity ~ even after our mortal bodies die (and perhaps even, if you wish, end up in the Dissection Room of the Royal College of Surgeons, Ireland). 

Warmest greetings to especially my Irish readers.