Death, disease, tumors, and pustules peppered my family’s dinner conversation as I grew up.
“Pass the salt,” my parents said, as well as: “you wouldn’t believe what I found inside a body today.”
And also: “honey, never go into medicine.”
I only dabble in the macabre on weekends.
My latest morbid jaunt was the National Museum of Health and Medicine in Maryland.
The museum was chock-full of samples, specimens, illustrations, replicas, prototypes, and tools. The most beautiful and horrible things hopscotched across the line between medicine and torture.
Life-sized dolls that look like diseased humans.
Flash cards of skin lesions.
Orderly rows of scissors, saws, syringes, and knives.
Don’t forget tidy kits for exsanguination.
I didn’t become a doctor, but I have a stomach of steel.
Bring on the corpses.
I love writing book reviews, but I often worry that they’re tedious to read. Imposing limits on them is challenging for me. And it’s fun (maybe!) for you. Let’s go!
The Warmth of Other Suns.
As current events show
America stands in the shadow of Jim Crow.
Though you might be aghast,
it’s important to learn about the past.
You can’t fix what you don’t know.
I grabbed this on a lark.
Its storylines are dark,
but the writing
and it really hits the mark.
Better Than Before.
The key to making life better
is to be a go-getter.
Set your habits;
Let them multiply like rabbits.
Use your personality type to the letter.
The Bees & Beautifully Unique Sparkleponies & The City Under The Skin.
I die a little inside,
to admit that I tried —
but I failed.
I chose to bail.
I put these books aside.
As a personal note about this entry, I am absolutely never doing this format again.
This post took days to write.
Turns out I can’t rhyme at all. Basic kindergarten poetry is beyond me.