Frankie201803-04

My interest in dissecting dead bodies started when I was sitting

in a year 11 ancient history class. We learnt about a physical

anthropologist who’d been studying the human remains at Mount

Vesuvius. She deduced that one particular young female had been

a slave because the bicipital groove in her humerus was well worn,

indicating that that muscle had been used a lot. I thought that was

just so cool. At uni, I majored in anatomy, and a dissection program

came up. I volunteered to join it, and from that moment I was hooked.

Initially, I was hesitant to touch the specimens because they don’t

really smell like dead bodies. They smell more like a cocktail

of chemicals. And of course, being around anything dead is

confronting, but a deceased human is next level. I was in awe,

though. I remember sitting there dissecting a body and I could tell

it was female because she was wearing pink nail polish. I was like,

“Ooh, jeez – that’s a human.” I volunteered for a year-and-a-half

with that lab. From there, I did a dissection competition and won a

prize. I completely blew myself away; I didn’t know I could actually

do something like that. Then I applied for the role of anatomical

services specialist at the Australian National University in Canberra

and, by some miracle, I got it.

The facility here is quite small, so they can only afford to have

one person in the role, which is me. I manage the lab and do all

the maintenance, but my larger role is taking care of the bodies

themselves. All the bodies are used for medical teaching and

research. I’m involved from the moment they’re delivered by the

funeral company. I give them a wash; de-identify them by shaving

their hair; embalm them; and then store them in the fridge for six

months – that’s how long it takes for the embalming process to

finish. Then, I section them and dissect them out.

Occasionally, I talk to the bodies. It’s difficult not to, especially when

I first receive them, because they look like someone’s grandmother

or grandfather. I’ll say, “Excuse me, sir. Do you mind if I lift this?”

or, “Mind your head there – sorry.” I really wish I knew what type of

music they liked, because I’d love to play that while I embalm them,

but I think that’s too personal a question to ask the families. I don’t

want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

For a long time, men dominated this industry. But my supervisor is

female, and her supervisor is female, and the dean of the medical

school is female. We’re extremely lucky to be in an all-female

laboratory in a medical school. It’s difficult being a woman in this

line of work, because sometimes people don’t respect you. You

really have to stand up for yourself and say, “No, I’m the person

you’re supposed to be talking to. I run this lab.” Sometimes they

do a double-take and are like, “But you’re wearing pigtails and you

have eyeball hair bows and you’re wearing a skirt. How can you

possibly do this job?” I’m like, “I do this job. This is my role.”

Working alone a lot of the time can be extremely lonely and

frustrating. Honestly, music is how I get through it. I have these

awesome noise-cancelling headphones. Also, in the demonstrating

room, we have a screen you can play YouTube on, so when there are

no students in here and we don’t have anyone on the table, the lab

turns into a little dance party. When there’s someone on the table,

the music’s a little bit more subdued. I don’t see the point in the lab

being a dreary environment – it should be a celebration of life.

my job

HANNAH LEWIS DISSECTS

DEAD BODIES FOR A LIVING.

As told to Mia Timpano

Photo

Anthea and Lyndon Torres

nine to five