Beauty Is Only Skin Deep

  The book, The Frontiersmen, crossed my mind as I proceeded with my task.  Today was the first day of dissection, Betty was lying face down (prone position) and our task was to dissect the muscles of the dorsal chest. 
  Studying a human cadaver was not new to me, but that cadaver had already been dissected (the purpose of this course), and so the question crossing my mind was, could I put scalpel to skin and make the cut? 
  I didn't volunteer in our group, I just picked up the scalpel and made the midsagittal  cut (down the middle of the  back) from the back of the head to the sacrum (bone between the hips).  It was actually fairly easy, the new blade was very sharp and the cut was made.
  Our group then sectioned the skin into large squares and proceeded to remove the skin-yes, we were skinning a human. 
  And that is where I  began to think of Eckert's book.  In the course of  his narrative, he writes about when both sides of the war, between white man and native, human prisoners were skinned alive. 
  This was indeed a very painful way to go.  For you see, the human skin is attached to the underlying body tissue by very tough connective fibers and this makes the task of removing the skin very hard. 
  Unlike skinning a deer, where the skin literally "unzips" off with a pull, the human skin is attached very strongly to the body.  This fibrous connective tissue can be seen running from the dermal layer of the skin, through the hypodermal layer to the layers underneath.  Then there is a connective tissue call fascia that seems to cover everything in the  body holding the hypodermis to the body.
  Let's just say that it takes a lot of pulling, and that is defined as a lot of pulling.
  Now image you are alive and undergoing this.  I shudder when I think of it. 
  And yes, while you are doing this task (on a cadaver, not a living person), you mind tends to wonder. 
  The human skin or integument, consists of three  basic layers.  The epidermis, the part you can see, the dermis just under it, and finally, deepest, is the hypodermis. 
  The main job of the epidermis is to protect you from your environment, the dermis is the actual living skin (epi means upon) and the hypodermis (hypo=down,meaning down; under dermis in this case) is the padding layer.
  Your sense of touch, pain etc. are located in the dermis, along with your blood vessels, sweat and oil glands.  Your hair grows out of the dermis, while the hair follicle is actually part of the epidermis, it is located in the dermis.  The main  business of the skin is located here.
  The hypodermis is mostly adipose-fat.   The function of subcutaneous fat is to provide energy storage, padding and insulation.  Elderly people lose this layer in their later years, resulting in the  complaint, "Its cold in here!" and frequent bruising of the arms and legs.
  The reason skin is attached so strongly is to make sure it stays in place.  You don't want it sliding around you know.  Most everyone knows what a "strawberry" is when they slide on the ground.  That wonderful friction burn on the skin, because the skin won't slide with you.
  But, where the skin must bend, elbows, knees, fingers, the skin will slide-so you can bend those joints!
   So, we proceeded to remove the skin from Betty's back, one piece at a time.  What we saw underneath I'll tell you next time.
   
  

Meeting Betty

  I met Betty in a cold, bright laboratory early in the morning, along with nine other of her companions.  I actually met her face down on the table, looking at her broad back and short legs.  Not quite how I pictured the first time I would see a complete cadaver.
  While, I have studied the human anatomy before using a cadaver, that cadaver was already prepared for students to study, this one was 'complete' in the sense and waiting for us to begin. 
   I had signed up for the class back in the spring and the purpose of the course was to prepare corpses for just such an activity-the study of the human body in anatomy classes.  
 Arriving early for the first day of class and watching the other students arrive, I couldn't help but thing that these students all look like the students I had just finished teaching last month.  Am I getting that old and the worst thought was 'will I be the oldest one in the class'?
 Fortunately for me, another grey hair showed up and we entered the laboratory.
 I'd like to say the entrance was dramatic, but it wasn't. 
  Instead of bodies laying on tables, I saw stainless steel coffins in neat rows through the room.   Our little group was assigned one nearest the door and it was time to begin.
  So, I met Betty.  This is not her name.  I don't know her name, only a number that tells me, when I look at the listed posted on the wall, how she died.  From the short sentence by her number, I figured it had to do something with her heart and kidneys.
  Most of the donated bodies were older and had passed on from pneumonia, COPD, just plain old age.  Not ours.  She was neither old nor a typical mortality.
 Inside her metal coffin, she was wrapped in plastic (twice) to preserve the tissues, and once we opened the metal lid, the smell wrapped itself around us.  I quickly deducted the purpose of the metal shell that each body is kept in, one to help preserve it, the other to keep the smell to a minimum.
  We were to start on the back (posterior) and begin by removing the skin and then cleaning the muscles on the back for future students to study.
  Little did we know what we were getting ourselves into.  And that is the subject of my next post.