Op Note XXXVIII
Just once I’d like to open up an abdomen and find something unexpected. Utterly unique and unprecedented.. Instead of a liver, a codfish. Instead of a spleen, an antique clock. A giant pair of scissors. A barrette this girl from middle school used to wear in her hair. I’d write a paper about it. Get it accepted by peer reviewed journals. Present my findings to the International Society of Distinguished Anatomists. Make my bones as an academician. Give talks to passionate coteries of pond side geese. In textbooks it would become known as the Parks Variation of organ system configuration. Every few years I’d have to pull something new out, to maintain demand for my exorbitant speaking fees. This year I pulled a rabbit from the chest. Happy Easter, I said. Theologians applauded. Neo-marxists averted their eyes. The doctors in attendance tried to start CPR. But old Jesus had already signed his DNR papers. Everything was otherwise empty. How this person continued to live remained a mystery.
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