Tuesday, December 20, 2005

mad doctor's journal

A friend of mine who's studying medicine decided to contribute a post here:

Standing by the locker, he removed his jacket and shivered. The building was cold and the jacket was his only form of protection from that cold. Anyhow, it doesn’t matter; it’s his favourite time of the day again. Quickly, he replaced the jacket in his hand with a blood soak lab coat from the locker and put it on. It’s time to go into the room again.

Walking quickly, he headed to the room with the small black box swinging by his right pocket and a small bulge in his left. A clicking sound of metal crashing against each other could be heard with every step he takes. He smirked when he came upon that big white door to the room. He went in.

There were rows and rows of white bags lying on tables around the room. The whole room was white and smelled like somebody puked in it. Preserved specimens in bottles lay on shelves around the wall like a page from a mad scientist novel. Upon entering, he took the black box and placed it on a metal slab. Reaching into the other pocket, he produced a pair of white gloves and slips them upon his fingers. He then unzips one of the white big bags that were nearest to him. In it, was a body, at least what’s left of it.

Getting a scalpel from the box, he slowly incised upon the skin of the body’s hand. The skin opened like a zip being unzip whenever the sharp blade touches it. No blood would come out. They had been dried up by the chemicals way back. Like how a cook removes the fat from his meat, pieces of skin were slowly being peeled away and put into a bucket below the slap. It didn’t take long before what were left there were masses of red meat, the muscles.

But he wasn’t here for those today. He’s here for something finer; something of delicate usages. With a slower movement now and also using the aid of a scissors and tweezers, he plucks the muscles away from the bone fibres by fibres. Every so often he would come across fine red threads, arteries, which he snips away. Red powder often drops out of those snipped threads. Dried blood.

He begins to sweat in the cold room. This is where things get complicated. His breathing almost came to a stop and he concentrates hard. He is near what he came for today and he is getting excited. Like a flower blooming from the cracks of the dessert floor which just received rain, he found it. He found the yellow threads he’s been looking for.

In a jovial mood, he zips the white bag up, put his equipments away and left the room. He's done for the day.

[His link is Mr. Koh at the Chain of Reaction list]

Posted by Berenice at 6:49 PM

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