Holding life in your hands

This week we had our first anatomy test--whew! I was very happy with my scores too, which is good, and our lab table actually got 1 pt extra credit for doing a good job dissecting (we were quite amazed).

On Tuesday we began our new region of the body which I'm sure will hold many suprises in it (thorax and abdomen). This week in particular we focused on the lungs and heart. The night before our dissection of the heart I had this awe-striking feeling that I was going to be holding the life-center and what we call the seat of our emotions (even though physiologically it's somewhere in the brain) in my hands. And I did--it was so fascinating. I had dissected a pig-heart in high school which was very cool, but this--playing heart surgeon basically--was crazy. Our Father has made us fearfully and wonderfully. I mean, that little fist-sized pump has to last you at least 60 beats/min EVERY minute EVERY hour EVERY day EVERY year of your life. That is one machine made to last. It's the first organ to be formed and functional--you have a primitive circulatory system/heart at 20 days after conception!! If that isn't amazing...I don't know what is.

One thing I noticed about myself this week was having the "I do" syndrome. What I mean is that when the visiting heart surgeons were in lab helping with dissections (and they seemed eager to start cutting) I felt this rush to want to put my hands in it like a little kid and say, "No, I DO." I wanted to be the one cutting, not watching, which can be a dangerous desire when you don't know what you're really doing. Maybe you know what I mean: sometimes when you ask for help you want guidance, not someone to do it for you because you're learning (though there are some situations where it's opposite). Of course, I didn't say that to the surgeons--they graciously offered us their time for free and I was happy they were there. I could just tell that some of them really wanted in on the action too which I understand!

So the mailman has to try to stuff my mail through the door old-school style (a slit) and it always makes lots of noise. Yesterday it startled me out of a nap in the recliner, and today it got me again--but what a wonderful suprise! My mom has been sending me notes of encouragement (and misplaced mail) and goodies. I think it's a record--3 mailings in one week! Mom and Dad just bought me a couple CDs from a worship group at their church--yay! (Thanks you guys...)

Which brings me to other wierd noises that wake me up. Like how at 5am the sprinklers in the front sidewalk go off outside my room window "sphish-chk-chk-chk". Or the extremely loud bus that stops and rolls by and spews toxic fumes "VaROOOMM". Nonetheless, I am very glad I have the apartment I do--and I'm sure my neighbors don't always appreciate the wierd trombone sounds coming from my apartment...