Notes on a Cadaver.

Within the first few weeks of school, I managed to do some of my own personal studying of surgery. 

Never use a can opener and talk on the phone at the same time. 

After laughing in one minute, and screaming in the next, I bundled up my bleeding fingers. Gathering myself, and printing out my health insurance information, I walked down to the main streets and hailed a taxi. It was difficult manipulating the ATM buttons to get cash for the cab without leaving DNA evidence on the floor AND the touchscreen. Red  was oozing through the shirt I used to clamp off the laceration. What unnecessary drama. An eight o’clock visit to the local ER, eleven stitches and three hours later, I tried to sleep for my first Anatomy exam. On the hand.