Studying in America, my first anatomy class at Harvard.

Studying in America, my first anatomy class at Harvard.

The first week, five days, 120 hours, 10 cup of coffee.

I am still a little happy to officially receive the MIT student ID card. After all, this school is the dream goal of science students. When I got my driver's license, I remembered a joke told by a Harvard professor with silver hair, Dr. Treadway. She said, "If you are a boy, congratulations. You can boast that you are a student of Harvard Medical School in the bar and watch the girls prostrate themselves under your suit pants. But if you are a girl, I'm sorry, you'd better never mention your connection with Harvard in a bar club, because everyone will be scared away by you! "

Anyway, now, Harvard and MIT are my home.

My first week, if I want to use adjectives to describe it, it must be "crazy".

Not derogatory. Crazy is actually just a vague definition, which contains many complicated feelings and emotions. Just five sunrises and sunsets seem to have experienced too much. Because of too much experience, there are countless thoughts spreading in the tired brain. Therefore, I have to forgive myself for writing a chaotic narrative in a chaotic state.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Immunopathological anatomy. My bookshelf is filled with textbooks, scientific documents, handouts, body maps and exercise books at an alarming rate.

The human brain is really amazing. It quickly analyzes the situation, and then decisively decides to delete all the small details in the unimportant small memory, because endless information and knowledge are overwhelming and violently smashing, which makes each of us unprepared.

I finally understand the feeling of learning nothing. Although I was warned before, I was still a little unconvinced. The more seniors say it's impossible, the more they want to try in the opposite direction. However, this little backbone only lasted less than three days. Looking at endless books, endless exercises and endless materials, all I can do is sigh and accept my fate. No matter how brave you are, you can only face the reality in frustration. Even now, when I go back to my dormitory and see 20 cm thick class notes every day, I will be scared if I am not careful.

Mit metaphor: the amount of information in each class is like opening the gate of a fire hydrant and drinking water from a pipe.

Read, read, read! The heavy and busy schoolwork makes me want to shout: God, please let there be 48 hours every day! How happy it is to study leisurely, sleep for 8 hours without burden, enjoy three meals slowly and have fun with friends without guilt!

Speaking of this, it is still plain and crazy, and the real climax is yet to come.

"Psychiatrists don't know anything, so they can't do anything; Doctors know everything but know nothing; Surgeons can do everything, but they don't know anything; Pathologists are omniscient and omnipotent, but they are one day late (referring to autopsy). " Professor Dr. Mitchell started our first pathology class with his unique humor. Then, he instantly turned everyone's smile into disbelief with the phrase "everyone should write a formal autopsy report": autopsy? There was a mistake, wasn't there? Aren't we freshmen in medicine?

Next thing: grouping and paging. Hospital morgue map, autopsy notes, autopsy photos ...

Dr Mitchell told us with a serious face, "No matter what you are doing, no matter how busy and tired you are, the coroner waits for no one. After receiving the page, as long as you are still alive, you will arrive at the designated hospital within 30 minutes. Even if you take classes at MIT across the Charles River, you should run very fast. "

Haven't recovered from the shock, has been absently taken to the autopsy room. This is an extreme and strange scene. The stiff body was soaked in medicine for too long, and the room was filled with the pungent smell of formalin ... Although I imagined the feeling of attending anatomy class for the first time, all of a sudden, naked happening still caught me off guard. It's sunny outside and the weather is just right, but the atmosphere in the autopsy room still makes me feel cold.

When I changed my clothes and picked up the scalpel for the first time, I was not surprised to find that my hands were shaking uncontrollably and I could hardly hold the small scalpel. The heart is beating fast in the chest, and the blood is pounding the blood vessels mercilessly. I suddenly have an impulse to flee, although my reason is struggling tenaciously, limiting my weakness.

However, I don't know why, when I uncovered the towel on the body and the body of the dead patient was completely displayed in front of me, the feeling of fear actually disappeared. Instead, it is a strong feeling that happens instantly.

The trembling stopped miraculously, and it felt like standing by the window, looking at myself in disbelief and holding the sharp scalpel firmly in my hand. It has been said that every medical student who has taken a course in human anatomy will always remember the moment when he first cut a scalpel into his skin. Now, I finally understand that what they remember is not the picture, but the cognition of a new emotion-respect, in order to contribute their bodies to our deceased; Pity, for the suffering of the deceased before his death; Gratitude, for the noble wishes of the deceased: let us get better training, become better doctors and help more people.

Six hours of intense concentration, six hours of standing by the dissecting table, six hours of Fulmarin, and six hours of intense shadowless lights … I seem to have lost the concept of time and space. As the dermis and fat layer on the remains gradually peeled off, beautiful and smooth lines, complex and dense nervous system and overlapping vascular lymph gradually emerged. The only thing I can do is to sigh that everything is really wonderful.

When I walked out of the autopsy room, I smelled of Fulmarin from head to toe, and I felt that I had experienced a big battle and almost collapsed. I think, many years later, even if all my memories are squeezed out of my brain by the knowledge in books, I will still remember this day, my first cut. ?

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