The thing that provided sweet relief and ingratiated me with my fellow students was ‘The Frog Episodes.’ This was when we had to dissect them. I would bring in between 12 to 15, obviously alive. I’d choose one. Then I’d use chloroform to anesthetize it. While it lay under a deep sleep, I’d remove its kidney, heart and liver. I’d show them to everyone, so they could verify they were severed as I had claimed. “They’re gone, right?” I exclaimed like a host at a carnival show. “What we have here is a little mother croaker, missing a few vital organs. Are you with me?” “Yeah!” the class would yell. Then while the frog continued to lay there sleeping, I’d surgically re-attach the organs. When the anesthesia wore off, if it did not awaken, we’d confirm it croaked and I’d have to kiss the frog. But if it awakened and lived to ‘rib-bit’ another day, I would be the handsome prince and all the girls would have to kiss me. Over the course of three semesters, I performed this procedure seventeen times and seventeen frogs happily hopped around when I was done. The other students combined performed it one hundred and twenty seven times. One hundred and twenty seven frogs croaked in their sleep and hopped away in spirit to Mr. Toad’s Heavenly Lily Pad, up there in the swampy sky. Most students and teachers alike thought I cheated. That it was some sleight of hand or something faster than the eye and mere reasoning could explain. The overall consensus was, ‘If I could perform this trick, or surgery, or whatever I called it, why not go for the gold and become a surgeon?’ “Do you really want me to answer that?” I replied smugly, whenever someone brought it up. With my lipstick laden co-eds lined up in a row, my other kissy faced response was simply. “The greater challenge lies in rendering surgery obsolete.” an excerpt from; The Reincarnation of Douglas Kavanaugh.
Posted on: Sun, 07 Dec 2014 16:35:42 +0000
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