19 Saun, 720
“Have you never witnessed a dissection before?” Balen asked from across the table.
Zur shook his head. This was his first time. Balen Helvin, head doctor at the Infirmary, had allowed Zur to observe a dissection today. It was of a newborn pig, but the internal organs and external extremities were not dissimilar to those of a person.
Balen stood at one end of a metal examination table and Zur stood at the other. They were in the back room of the Infirmary where the head doctors performed their special duties. Zur didn’t have any clients today, so he had asked Balen if he could be of any assistance, as he was interested in medicine and wanting to learn more about the subject. He still had yet to attend classes at the academy in order to obtain any proper training, but he figured watching a professional first hand would be one of the best forms of experience.
Balen was holding a scalpel in his right hand. A cloth mask covered his face, muffling every word he spoke. Sometimes it was hard to hear exactly what he was saying, but Zur was able to grasp the basics.
“It’s actually quite extraordinary,” Balen continued, waving the blade in the air.
Zur nodded his head. He, too, was wearing a mask as he had been instructed to do so. Something about the strong formaldehyde smell that caused headaches if inhaled directly, or just standard sanitary conditions, he couldn’t remember.
“The first thing I’ll do is cut down the middle of the pig like so.” Balen pressed the scalpel into the pig’s flesh and drew downward starting from just under the chin. The skin made a sickening snap, crackle, and pop as he did but Zur was not perturbed. Science didn’t make him feel that way.
“You don’t want to apply too much pressure, though. You want to make sure you don’t cut into any of the internal organs that lie underneath.”
Balen stopped the scalpel right before the lower part of the pig diverged into the legs. Continuing from the original incision, he deftly made two short cuts around the umbilical cord and down the legs. He did the same for the arms, but needn't maneuver around any umbilical cord.
“It’s called the Y-incision,” Balen announced in a chipper voice. Aside from the offshoot into the legs, Zur could see why it was called that; it really did look like a Y. What he didn't see, however, was the reasoning as to why dissections required that specific incision.
“Why do you cut the pig like that?” He asked, unable to come up with a better way to phrase his question.
“It’s easier to get to all the important parts.” With gloved hands, the doctor reached his fingers into the newly made opening and wrenched the two flaps of skin apart.
Another crack.
The sound of boots prying themselves out from the mud. Squelch.
The incision was no longer an incision but a gaping hole in the belly. It was a stark contrast to how small the rest of the pig was. Upon seeing such a grotesque image, Zur was glad the pig was dead.
Balen retreated to a small cupboard behind him where he extracted a tool that oddly resembled a pair of gardening clippers.
“It’s not always necessary to use these when cracking the rib-cage, but I find it to be less messy,” he explained before snipping away at the fragile looking bones.
Snip.
Crack.
Crunch.
He did nothing more than make a few cuts here and there with the scissors before placing them aside. For later use, Zur presumed.
