The Mask of Compassion

Where am I?
I don’t know.
Oh.  I’m in the parking lot of a grocery store.
How’d I get here?
I don’t know.

It’s Anatomy Lab day.
I’m scared.
This is happening far too often now.

Mom?  Are you O.K. in there?
Are you sick again?
Should I call dad?
No honey.  I’m not hungry.  Thanks anyway.
I know.  You’re never hungry now.

It’s Anatomy Lab day.
I’m scared.
This is happening far too often now.

Honey, you’re burning up again.
Are you shivering?
No.
Yes you are.
You’re covered in hives again.
Are you O.K.?

It’s Anatomy Lab day.
I’m scared.
This is happening far too often now.

You do know you can’t keep going in there.
I have to doctor.
Why?  Do I need to contact your school?
Please don’t.  I don’t want to make trouble.

If I don’t go in, I will fail the course.
If you do, you will fail everything.
Your memory is extremely impaired.
I have to go.
You’re weak and exhausted.
I have to go.

Fine then.
Either they provide you with a mask
Or I’ll contact OSHA.

It’s Anatomy Lab day.
I’m scared.
This is happening far too often now.

It took some work,
But against the will of some
I have it.  A respirator mask.
“God’s mask of compassion.”

I put it on.  I’m so embarrased.
I look like something from outer space.
Or a fire-fighter.
It’s front-heavy.  My neck hurts.
I’m suffocating
I haven’t learned to breathe in it.

The girls on my dissection team see.
They feel my shame.
They do not let me walk in alone today.
They stare “the starers” down in my stead.
I avert my eyes.

The next time, for some reason, I am alone.
There is laughter and staring.
Jokes are made.  Work spreads.
People come from other rooms ot see.
I am a freak show.

I thought to myself.  “It can’t get any worse.’
The “sage on the stage” and his groupies come.
I am asked a question.  I try to answer.
They laugh.  He laughs.
I hear my voice in the mask for the first time.
I sound like an astronaut on helium.
I leave.  I cry.

“How could future doctors be so cruel?
So unfeeling?  So unempathetic?”
I wondered what happened to all the ideals
They expressed in those personal statements –
Like desiring to ease human suffereing?
I conclude, those words were nothing more…
Than masks of compassion.

It’s Anatomy Lab day.
I’m angry.
This is happening far too often now.

Daisey Dowell, Class of 2003