The Autopsy

The autopsy was scheduled for three p.m. but Jimmy held it up due to memories of his previous autopsy, his one and only, that came flooding back. Could he make it through this one without being embarrassed again? Now, as he stood before the table, shoulder to shoulder with his classmates, Ludlow snapped on his latex gloves signifying the class had begun. Jimmy stood across from him, watching a grin spread across the medical examiners face. “I do so much look forward to these anatomy classes, don’t you Jimmy?” Jimmy gave Ludlow a flat stare and held it until the M.E. looked away.

Jimmy stared down at the dead face before him, the slightly opened eyes, the parted lips. But mostly what caught him off guard was the pale waxy tone of the skin. The way the musculature had relaxed so that the face lost the nuance that would have made her distinguishable from any other woman.

“Let’s get to it”, said Ludlow, picking up a scalpel for the initial cut. Then he paused and looked at the body. “She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman, wasn’t she?” The question wasn’t directed at Jimmy or anyone else in the class. “Most people, even the ones who are extremely attractive in life, don’t carry their looks to this table. It makes you realize that it’s not the superficial exterior that we all work so hard at getting right, it’s that spark of life that makes people truly appealing.”

Ludlow let out a heavy sigh and reached up and turned on the overhead microphone that would record his observations. He gave the date and time, followed by routine statements. “We are about to begin the postmortem examination of Rachel Robinson, a twenty-four year old white female. The body is well developed, and shows no identifying scars or tattoos. There is bruising about the arms and shoulders indicating that she struggled before death. There is one exterior wound, deep cut across the throat that severed the thyroid cartilage, the trachea, and the right carotid artery, causing a massive loss of blood, which would have continued until the heart stopped beating. The wound appears to have been administered from behind in a right-to-left motion, indicating the killer used his left hand.”

“The wound goes back to the spine and caused a nick in the third vertebrae, indicating a heavy-bladed knife, possibly a hunting knife,” Ludlow continued. He paused again, thought over what he had said and then nodded to himself. “Okay, let’s open her up,” Ludlow said, bringing himself and Jimmy back as he began the Y-shaped incision that went from each shoulder to the sternum, then ran in a straight line to the pubis.

Jimmy felt himself tense as the faint odor of putrefaction seeped past the Vicks dabbed under his nostrils. The pinkness of the interior organs themselves never seemed to bother him but cutting through them always brought on a slight dizziness. What really got to him, the part he was most anxious about was when the craniotomy was performed. The sound of the scalp being ripped away from the skull; then pulled down over the face, followed by the buzz of the small electric saw as it cut around the skull; then the popping sound as the skull was pulled away, exposing the brain. As he witnessed this he struggled to hold back the bile that was determined to escape his stomach.

Swallowing hard he pitched backwards and turned around. Heading for the deep sink on the far wall he heard the chuckling of his fellow students. How can he ever live this down? He wanted to be a medical examiner but that was out of the question if he couldn’t get through a routine autopsy.

After the autopsy was over and he had gotten some color back, Jimmy paused to look at the body. He stared at her face and then walked away knowing two things for certain, that anyone who had ever witnessed an autopsy would never want one performed on someone they loved and he would be back to try again.