Irked

Today, I spent the morning on prac at the morgue. I went in with no feelings of apprehension or fear, but came out somewhat irked and paranoid. It wasn't the sights or the stench or that sense of death in the air; it was the case report at the end of each dissection table that told the story of how each body came to be. Suicide was the order of the day today - a cocktail of drugs and alcohol. Not pretty. Not pretty at all. I'm hazarding a guess in saying this, but I think if anyone was half-heartedly contemplating suicide; a trip to the morgue would potentially sway them otherwise (probably not the case for someone who'd already made up their mind though). From an educational point of view: a totally surreal and priceless way to learn anatomy. I stayed behind when my classmates left, to watch the autopsy of a neonate - the organs were tiny but eerily pristine and perfect. Kind of like microanatomy. Again though, its story was so sad - I wish I could share it with you. Such a fine line between life and death - I never realised how fine it was until today. Two days ago this person was alive; today they are not. The weirdest feeling perhaps, was that of walking out into the sparkling daylight at the end of the prac and seeing live people walking down the street. Anyway, I need to go have a long shower - the scent of death has permeated my skin.