Encounters with Death

Kevin Koo

Yale University

In the First Year

I gazed upon a body overtaken by Death

The fingers, withered and cold

Eyes as gray as the stainless steel casket

Call her Cadaver, they explained, and learn

Her lines, her edges

Put your scalpel to the rubber skin and your mind to what lies beneath

And she will serve youin good stead

I made the incisions, pinned the nerves, splashed the atlas with blood and bone

And in the First Year, I dissected Death.

In the Second Year

I memorized the signs of Death

A lung, scarred and emptied

The nodes of Osler revealing infection within

See this spot here, they described, this holds the key

That unlocks the secret of diagnosing a disease so rare that

Only one in a billion are so cursed

And I, glancing nervously at my own spots, was convinced that I might be

That one

And in the Second Year, I pathologized Death.

In the Third Year

I saved a man from Death

His heart, so worn and weary

That it had surrendered its rhythm

And you, they shouted, come to push on his chest

Push harder, push faster, for his life is in your hands

And I stood over this man, forcing untested palms into an unsuspecting sternum

That I might be enough, my will might be enough

And then, the return

To heart, rhythm, and to body, life

And in the Third Year, I conquered Death.

In the Fourth Year

I had a conversation with Death

Of what do you remain afraid, Death asked

That you might know Death only by dissection, as pathology, to be conquered?

And I learned that Death

Was a companion along the journey of humanity

Along which we travel

I smiled, because I understood

At last

And in the Fourth Year, I accepted Death.