Health Science Reviews

by Zabanguni Noluthando Malaika Phakathi

How does one begin to write a piece on one of the worst years of her life academically, but also one of the best years academically. That description of the year in itself is paradoxical. By far, in terms of stress, lack of sleep, anxiety and continuous heart palpitations, this ONE year compensated for the entirety of the three years of my undergraduate degree, in terms of difficulty. With that in mind, this ONE year was where, in terms of results, my efforts and dedication I had put into my work and my studying, final were truly reflected.

Now don’t get me wrong, 8 weeks, non-stop, 9am to 5pm every day, without holidays in between, dissecting the whole human body? It’s enough to make a grown woman like myself cry.  In about 2 months, I had learned every vein, artery, organ, and system that there is to learn of the human body. Anatomy to me, had finally become more than just diagrams on the internet and parrot learning, I had finally reached the exciting, yet taxing part of learning human anatomy.

This is when I had learned that the three years of learning anatomy in my undergraduate degree, was nothing compared to this one year. I recall at the beginning of the year I was focused on making this year a successful one for me as a woman in STEM. It was shortly after this, that I realised that that target had moved. It was no longer right in-front of me, it was ever moving further and further away due to the “building for the dead”, also known as the “Anatomy building”.

One thing I can say for certain is that they really romanticise your honours year. They always tell you just how “proud” you should feel that you had been selected into the given department, or how you should acknowledge your “privilege” to be part of the few that make it to and through honours. One thing I can tell you for certain is, read the fine print.

Yes, I was proud of myself, how could I not be? I had worked my entire life for this one very moment to be doing EXACTLY what I had my interests in.

Yes, I acknowledged my privilege as being one of the many students selected to be part of the faculty of health science and within my honours year, passing well and doing what, again, I had my interests in.

The fine print that had been obscured from my sight and knowledge, was that I was going to work and study in the building that housed individuals that had passed, a building that felt as if it was always ten to fifteen  degrees colder than the outside environment, a building where there was no colour on the walls, no laughter in the halls , and where everyone would understand if you pass in the hallways not having enough energy for words of greeting.

The fine print was a foresight into what was going to come in 2023. It was print of precaution, a warning that in the first six months of a one-year degree, your Life belonged to the department and the individuals that were generous enough to leave their bodies for the future of science. A print, with its minuscule font, that excluded the fact that the scent of a dissection hall would become a scent that you wouldn’t want to live without, one that you would run to class just to smell that “fragrance”.

The fine print further excluded vital information. It excluded that although I was guaranteed anxiety, sleepless nights and a culminate of stress-induced heart palpitations, to my surprise I was also guaranteed a year to remember. Yes, I must admit, there is information about my department and its attributes that may throw most away from this building. However, to me? This department, this building is a place I love to be in.