A few weeks ago, I did something that I've been meaning to do pretty much since the time I became aware of such an opportunity. The time that has lapsed between that time and when I finally decided to take action and do this thing is embarrassingly long. I'm talking well over a decade. What took me so long to do this simple thing that took me MAYBE 15 minutes tops.
I like that I'm building suspense/mystery as to what the hell I'm talking about, but unfortunately to continue without being specific would be difficult to write and would make no sense whatsoever to anyone attempting to read.
I registered to be an organ donor. Sure, I already had the little heart symbol on my driver's license, but all that does is remind any potential emergency personnel to check to see if you're registered to donate organs. You actually have to register with an organ donation service (ex. Missouri Organ Donor Registry) for it to actually be put into practice.
So, why did it take me so long? I have long prided myself as a man of action over words. But why did I wait over 10 years to do this after I decided that I'd like to give my organs to somebody who needed them in the event I became too dead to fully appreciate their use?
I feel like I've been pretty comfortable conceiving of and discussing my own death that it really shouldn't have been a barrier to me. But it was. I want to convince myself that it was just something that I never got around to, kept slipping my mind, or some other hollow excuse, but in my mind there really was no excuse for waiting for so long.
It took an incredibly thoughtful and poignant presentation on End of Life issues by some of my nursing school classmates to really give me the slap-in-the-face that I needed. A good firm kick in the pants that, as cliche as it sounds, it really is a matter of life and death. Maybe not to me, but to somebody else. A woman in my program lost her teenage daughter to a car crash 2 years ago. This girl had done what I hadn't...what I couldn't. She was already registered to give her organs, and when that day unexpectedly came, she was already set up to give the enormous gift of life to a handful of people she had never met. Her mother spoke to us, heartbroken yet proud as she could be, and it was a splash of cold water in my face.
How careless have I been for the past decade or so? 5-6 years of rock climbing, a full decade of cycling, various other haphazardly ventured activities, plus the ever-present "hit by a bus crossing the street" risk. I can think of specific instances where a slip of the foot, or a narrowly avoided bicycle crash could have all too easily resulted in PVS for yours truly. For non-medical folks...PVS=Permanent Vegetative State. Brain dead. Nobody home. A functioning body with a face, but not a person. I know that should I ever end up as such, I would want life support pulled without a doubt. And until now, it wouldn't have resulted in anything good whatsoever. Those days are over, and I'm extremely happy that I lived long enough to make this important decision for myself, but even more importantly: for the next name on that waiting list who might just get another chance at life.
A girl I went to high school with is alive because somebody else made this decision and helped her beat cancer with a new liver. That was over a year ago. Why didn't I do it then? It would have been so easy. Do I really think I'm invincible?
Apparently so. Despite my attitude towards death, lack of religious beliefs, and everything I wished I were, I still didn't do it. The fact is, it's damn hard to face your own death, even the possibility of it. To admit that I, just like everyone else, could just up and die some day...it takes some serious stones. The more I get into nursing, the more I realize how fragile human life is. Though I never get sick, I don't bruise, and have a pretty decent capacity for self-inflicted suffering in the form of exercise...I honestly don't know when my number will come up. I recently heard of a 30 year old man, avid runner, otherwise extremely healthy, who was diagnosed with left ventricular hypertrophy right after it killed him. You can never know.
The point I'm coming to is this: Will you give up your organs once you can no longer use them? Are you too uncomfortable to even contemplate such a decision? Will you at least consider the idea? Not for me, but for those out there who are fighting for their lives and hoping for a fighting chance in hell? https://www.missouriorgandonor.com/odpublicsite/Default.aspx
In addition to registering to donate my organs, I also have begun the process to add myself to the national bone marrow registry. This one is even easier. Sign up, take a swab of your cheek and mail it in, and then wait. If you're lucky enough to have the opportunity to be somebody's match, there is a somewhat painful procedure involved in donating bone marrow, but to me I would gladly endure this to save a life. http://www.marrow.org/
Do it!
Next on my list of death-related things I've been meaning to do: Fill out an Advanced Directive.
Thanks for reading!
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