Every description, even just those describing normal breathing or pinkish mucus membranes, still pulls you out of the ordinary ranks of the living. Language becomes a clinic. And the more detailed the description, the more marginalised the person becomes. He is no longer a person, but a patient. Here we can already see the first substitution. The objective description of your state slowly turns you into an object. The first autopsy, while you are still alive and without anaesthesia, is performed by language. It enters coldly, looks around, describes, fixes every detail and makes it visible. Except that my father is no longer here. Each ever-more detailed medical description paradoxically leads to dehumanisation.

Georgi Gospodinov, Death and the Gardener