I had an opportunity to go to a cadaver lab at a medical school with the premedical club at my college. My initial reaction was that it would be a great opportunity for me because I am planning on going to medical school. I wasn’t worried about being grossed out or anything like that. I’ve worked in a hospital before and shadowed a couple doctors. I’ve seen my share of the medical setting. I had seen pathology specimens, needle operations, watched videos of surgeries. I decided to go.

Once I got there, I changed into scrubs, put on goggles, and put my hair up in a ponytail. It still hadn’t hit me what I was about to do. Once I entered the lab, I saw the long silver tables, covered like trays at a restaurant. The covers were taken off, revealing a human-like shape covered with a blue tarp. That’s when I got nervous. I did not want to look at the tarps. I watched the students uncover their cadavers. They looked a lot less human than I expected. The faces were covered. Everything below the waist was covered. We were going to watch as the medical students inspected the chest cavity, particularly the heart and lungs. I watched as they made the incisions. The group I worked with even let me crack one of the cadaver’s ribs. I was fine. I was watching, I was asking questions, I was engaged, I was even helping, and touching things like lungs and tumors.

I don’t really know what happened, but when one of the medical students removed a lung, I looked on as foul smelling fluid dripped from the freshly removed lung. All of a sudden, I got really hot and dizzy. All sounds were muffled, and I couldn’t see. The only sense that was working was my sense of smell, which was full of the smell associated with what I had just witnessed. I had to leave the room. I thought I was going to be sick.

In a side room, the smell left my nose and I began to feel better. I was about to re-enter the lab when a thought entered my head that had not before. I wondered if it was wrong for people to cut open people. All of a sudden a wave of guilt washed over me, I looked down at my gloved hands, still covered in fluids from the cadaver I had touched. I felt disgusted with myself, not physically, but morally. A second wave of nausea passed over, accompanied by the feeling that I was falling. I couldn’t breathe. My legs got weak, and I sat down in a chair. My vision was blurry with dizziness and tears. I removed my gloves and threw them forcefully in the trash can next to me. One of the ladies working in the lab came to check on me after what felt like ages. She said something to me and led me outside. She took my apron and offered me water. I cried because I felt guilty, and I didn’t go into the lab for the last hour. I just sat outside.

I know that I have nothing to feel guilty about because those people donated their bodies to science. I don’t know why it felt wrong to me. I guess it just takes a while for some people to get used to that kind of thing. Maybe some people will never be able to do it.

It happened yesterday, and since then, I’ve been thinking about my career choice. I’ve wanted to be a doctor since I was in high school. Yesterday, I thought that my experience at the cadaver lab meant I couldn’t be a doctor. I was disappointed in myself. The truth is, you can watch videos, watch doctors do procedures, and see plenty of organs, but nothing can prepare you for a cadaver lab. Based on previous experiences, I thought I could stomach any amount of gore. I was wrong. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t be a doctor. It means I’m human, and I’m not ashamed of my reaction.