My sister is having a Second Act.
In a brave about-face, she has left the field of elementary education after 25 years, going back to school to become a licensed surgical technologist. She's going from molding the minds of impressionable eight year-olds, to helping doctors rearrange people's insides.
My own morbid interest in people's insides has led to some interesting conversations with her. I'm always eager to hear about anatomy class--what's new with the endocrine system, or a refresher lecture on the Krebs cycle.
Anyway, she and I were both having trouble remembering exactly what our spleens were for (and who doesn't have trouble with that??) so I composed the following poem.
I give you "Ode to a Spleen".
We're in awe of the heart
of the liver and brain
And yet where are you, spleen
in our gutsy refrain?
Colored ribbons for breasts
for our colons, too
The former are pink
and the latter are blue
No awareness of you, spleen
Why? I know the answer
It's the thanks that you get
for not giving us cancer
"They're glorified lymph nodes!
Cut 'em out, you won't miss 'em!"
And yet they are key
to our immune system
Not paired like a kidney
an eyeball or lung
The spleen looks like a red beet
that's shaped like a tongue
It gets rid of old blood cells
helps fight off infection
Unsung hero the spleen
it deserves our affection
So consider your insides
which parts you like best
And remember that spleen
in your upper left chest
.