Fistula: Longing for Infection
Back in the early 90s, I worked in a medical laboratory where every imaginable sample that can be scrapped or siphoned off a human being ended up for testing. My job wasn’t on the diagnostic end of the spectrum, I was the hapless guy unpacking endless boxes of ooze in the lab’s basement. Every so often, a toe, nose, ear, eye, finger, testicle, or breast –– or, on one memorable day, an entire arm –– would arrive in a box. But while it was disconcerting unpacking bits of bodies, that wasn’t the worst part of my job…
