Each night, we wrapped Mabel in several wet gauzes as a shroud and then a thick white poly sheet. It became a daily routine for me to unveil Mabel. This was an entirely novel sensory experience, and I will never forget the potent odor of a dead body.

Mabel lacked epidermis but retained a familiar form. The task of the day was to remove the superficial layer of fascia, which gives many of us our shape. Essentially, this is your adipose layer. Some of us have a denser version of this layer than others. Mabel was a woman in her eighties who was not overweight, so I was surprised to see how much of it she had.

Under the superficial layer is the musculature, and the difference between these layers in some locations is clearly defined. In other locations, muscle and fat interlock like fingers, and this connective tissue “fuzz” binds everything together. The body is covered in this fuzziness, to which I will refer and elaborate in subsequent posts.

The outermost layer is predominantly yellow and white. Each cadaver in the room was a distinct color, but the embalming process greatly alters colors, making it difficult to determine what color the cadaver’s outermost layer was originally. We spent six hours removing this stratum.

During this time, I recognized that the majority of my work has little to do with muscle and everything to do with a layer of fat I’d never seen in an anatomy textbook. For some of us, this stratum comprises the majority of who we are. I mean this literally in terms of body mass percentage.

I was intrigued by the amount of foreign matter in my palms. The anatomy textbooks omitted it, but it must be vital; otherwise, it would not be in our hands. This is not straightforward fat. This layer performs a multitude of human tasks, including information collection and transmission, protection, and safety. This is sensing, insulation, a support mechanism, and an internal network connected to the outside world, all rolled into one, very large element of us.

As I worked with Mabel, I realized that this layer is essentially the vibration layer. (If you’ve ever attended a gong bath at the office, you’ll know that I’m captivated by vibration.) It was the week’s softest layer to work with, and I progressively realized what an entry point the superficial layer is, allowing external vibrations or stimuli to enter us and penetrate our shell.

Dr. Headley discussed what he learned from human cadaver seminars over the past twenty years. He stated that this layer may also be the emotional layer. At minimum, this stratum influences our emotion.
As I’ve only recently begun to learn about this layer of the body, I’m still discovering what this could imply.

I began questioning my work. When there are this many layers between you and what you’re working on, can you significantly affect these layers? I began to imagine caressing the back of a cat. The feline purrs. Perhaps it’s similar to when I work on my musculature. Perhaps it’s more of an exchange of information than a mechanical feat on my part. Muscles are able to unwind and contract because this is their natural state. I’m simply promoting muscle relaxation.

I left the laboratory that day feeling spent and fatigued. I had yellow and textured dreams. My hands fantasized about the outermost layer, attempting to comprehend it, a voyage that will continue.