I got a letter in the mail today from the Arizona organ registry, thanking me for signing up. (I signed up when I got my Arizona license last month. If I died before then, I guess Utah got first dibs on my organs.) In fact, it thanked me so profusely and gushingly that I began to giggle. And I really haven't stopped giggling. I'm pretty sure this is not the response they intended to elicit.
But it's just so funny to me. Why wouldn't I donate my organs? It's not like I'm using them. I'm dead! You could perform a disrepectful marionette show with my corpse for all I care. I'm dead! The organ registry even gave me two cards: one for me and one for "a family member or loved one who may make medical decisions on your behalf." So if you consider yourself a family member or loved one who may make medical decisions on my behalf, I'm an organ donor. You can cremate, bury, or donate the rest to science, whichever is cheapest and rocks your socks. (Paul says he has no firm opinion, except that he would prefer I don't die. I said okay; it seemed reasonable.)
Note: If I'm ever making medical decisions on your behalf, your organs are going too. What happens after that is up to you. Except viewings. They are creepy and you aren't getting one. If your mortal enemies need to know you're dead, they'll just have to sneak a peak on their own.
5 comments:
In Japan, they believe that the soul inhabits the whole body, so the idea of organ donation is pretty much the same thing as murder to them. Organ donation is practically non-existent over there.
Just thought I'd share.
I think Paul’s onto something with the whole “not dying” part. I’m also signed up as an organ donor, although the person who ends up with my corneas is likely to feel distraught over the poor quality of her acquisition. I’m also a serious advocate of cremation. Sure, I won’t be around to worry about it, when the time comes, but I’m pleased now by the thought of it—the kind of existential purity it represents. Dust to dust, you know? So when I launch into eternity, help Paul feel really good about lighting the fire. Seriously.
I also got a thank-you note for signing up. While the idea of ending up as a donor is not a pleasant one (because it means you probably died early), yet it seems almost sweet to give "one last gift" so someone else can live.
Sad/funny story - my cousin got a motorcycle license when he was really young (off-road I think). When he was marked as an organ donor he got subdued and later asked my aunt, "Do I get to choose how I die?" Poor kid thought it meant he would have to die soon so he could donate.
Hi Paul and Jennifer,
I wanted to wish Paul a happy birthday today, and since your phone is still relaxing at the bottom of the pool, I thought I’d do it here. I miss you two, but I’m so proud of both of you. I was thinking today about various memories of Paul—as is the rule on birthdays—and the thing that really stuck in my mind was a discussion we had a year or two ago. We were talking about how hard it is sometimes to do the right thing (we must have been talking about attending church :), and Paul said something like, “I don’t always enjoy doing the right thing at the time, but I’m always glad, afterward, that I did.” And I thought, “Yup. That’s my son. That’s the quintessential Paul.” Have a wonderful birthday.
Love,
Dad
I am a big advocate for organ donation as well being a member of the medical profession. Also, I recently had quite the conversation about cremation. What is the stigma among Mormons about it? Let's talk about the cost of interring your dead corpse for centuries to come. Seriously? And viewings...totally creepy!
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