On Friends and Cadavers

“The friends you forge in medical school are unlike any others. Much like soldiers during war, you are bound forever by some unthinkable force that only together you were able to survive.” – Anonymous Wise Physician

Young adulthood is littered with constant transition. As the change into medical school is reaching a steady plateau and the first years at NYU complete their initiating semester, I find that there is an interesting phenomenon plaguing us all: trying to figure who your friends are. The fact of the matter is that we all came into NYU mourning the loss of friends from our former lives. Finally, as we celebrate the completion of our first anatomy practical, I realize that I am no longer seeking replacements for old friends and instead hope to forge new relationships with unique idiosyncrasies and flavors. When I saw that I can accept a friend for all he/she is and not wish them to have XYZ quality did I know that I was successfully navigating this social transition. I have met some amazing people since August, and I am truly excited to see where we go from here (and how many calories we can jointly consume before graduation in 2014.) Readers rest assured, however, that I am still accepting applications for new friends, so long as you like to eat and pander massages on a semi-frequent basis.

Intriguingly, one of these new friendships I have formed recently is that of Big Momma. Ethical issues regarding naming your cadaver aside, this endearing nickname illuminates a rather complicated love/hate relationship that I have come to know with the body of some nameless, generous woman. I am unsure just how strange it is that I have been wondering lately what it would have been like to be her friend, nephew, or grandchild. Lately I have been wishing that I could have met her at one point in life, maybe even shared a laugh or two. I’ll spare you the psychoanalytic implications here and leave you to ponder at your leisure the psychotic experience that is working with an obese, idiosyncratic, and emotionally available cadaver.

Off point: I realize that the true value of a blog is not to sit for hours learning about the daily life and inner reflections of the author, and therefore I will humor an attempt to keep my mundane reflections to a minimum. In light of recent inspiration, I am clearly entertaining the thought of reviving this old webspace that I used in college. The only problem is I have to yet to think who would be interested in actually reading this nonsense.