Journey of Hearts 

The poem that follows is one that was recommended to me by Cathy Galloway from the Southern Medical Journal, when I requested permission to use the article that I had written about dealing with the human cadaver, It's O.K.
Since the site is being accessed by medical schools as a resource for students, I obtained permission from the Southern Medical Journal to reprint this article for the website.

Two Lives
by Andrew J. Lipman

This poem was read at a memorial service honoring participants in the Uniform Anatomical Gift Act, Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, on December 3, 1996. The poem was published in the  Southern Medical Journal  in March 1997;90:293 and appears with permission from both the Author and the Journal.
 
 

Sometimes we wanted to know your name, but we gave you one.
I guess that means that you almost had two identities, really two lives:
One with your family who came here today, the other with your students who also came.
Many will want to speak about your tremendous gift--and it is.
Others will want to extol the virtues of studying the human body.
I want to share with you some of my transgressions.
I would be lying if I said I always came to class...
Lying if I said at all times I kept you covered to protect your dignity...
Remiss if I did not mention that you made me nervous sometimes,
especially at the beginning of our relationship...
Did I sometimes fail to respect you as much as I should have? yes...
Was I ever angry with you? yes...
Sometimes you hid things from me.
My teachers call that missing points on tests.
I call it not paying attention to you.
But, despite these transgressions, you won.
You did what you set out to do when you gave me your body.
William Carlos Williams said that
"in surgery, man sees what God never meant him to see."
His point is that very few of us have such a privilege.
I think it's the same with anatomy. Now, I can't go back.
I will always know that a human heart looks like. It's almost reflexive: someone says an anatomic term and I can close my eyes and see it--in fact, I see yours.
But I guess I'm most amazed by your total trust in strangers.
There are so few examples of this trust to guide us anymore.
I think it would be presumptuous to think you trusted me, personally, because I could have been anyone.
Instead, you gave completely of yourself to all,
in hopes of teaching us a lesson about trust.
You have set a precedent with me. I've had my first intense relationship with a patient.
And that was you.

http://www.sma.org/smj The poem was published in the Southern Medical Journal in March 1997;90:293 and appears with permission from both the Author, Andrew Lipman and the journal.