Life Goes On

I know what you were thinking when you saw the title of this post: "Oh great, this is going to be another one of those life-is-a-journey, what-can-I-analyze-now posts Jenny loves writing so much"  Well you'd be wrong.

I got a letter from Jesse White today. I know it's incredible; it's like we're pen pals.  But seriously, this one I love getting every time I renew my drivers license.  That's right, I am an organ donor, and proud of it. I signed up on the First Person Consent registry - I think it was in 2006. I love getting that letter thanking me for making the choice to sign. I love showing the letter to my family, saying, "Go to this web site and sign up, damn it!" I love the reminder that it was an active, conscious decision to do something good. And for no gratification other than the hope of helping some deserving person in the future, when I'm gone and can't receive recognition for it.

I'm not exactly sure why I am so aggressively adamant about it. Maybe it has something to do with the idea that signing up on the registry, promising a part of yourself to a stranger is one of the most amazing yet basic ways of tying us all together, uniting humanity, being a part of the greater good.

This is a perfect example of what I mean, and was one ad that caught my attention back in 2007.

http://www.lifegoeson.com/donor_commercials07.html

I remember when I turned 16, the First Person Consent list didn't exist. I was, no doubt about it, signing the back of that very first driver's license. I made sure to check the little box that said "other" instead of "entire body" I was concerned at 16 (how morbid) about having a disfigured body to put in the casket at my wake.  So I checked "Other" and wrote, as best I could on that flimsy lamination, "Internal organs only". Apparently, I thought I'd need my eyes at some point after death ( as if they'd be of use to anyone anyhow, I'm virtually blind as it is)  and I didn't like the idea of someone using my skin because I could only imagine the horrific way in which they must harvest (to be honest to a certain extent I still feel that way about the skin thing, but if someone's eyes are so bad, that mine would be an improvement, by all means...)

But even then, organ donation was something I felt strongly about. I wanted to make sure everyone knew what to do with my body if I died. I told my friends and family very vehemently that they better not hesitate should I go. A few years later I think it was at 18, I didn't sign my license. It was about that time that rumors started going around that doctors let critical patients die in order to harvest their organs. And I,  being the impressionable idiot I can be, actually worried about this enough to keep myself from signing the identification that advertised my donor status. Instead I reminded my family... "Um, only internal organs though. O.K?"..."Yes, Jen, I'll remember. I swear," my mom would tell me, waving me off like I was crazy and perhaps paranoid.

When the registry came out I signed immediately after reading the information. Your status on the list isn't available until after you pass, I believe you can change your mind if you want and remove your name (it's been a while since I read the fine print), and it's legally binding, so should your family feel as though they don't want to/have to respect your wishes (although aside from religious reasons I can't imagine why not be a donor), signing the registry makes sure they are.

I'm sure by now you're wondering if in Jesse White's letter he asks to advertise for him.  But I swear he didn't.  By my best estimation, this all started with me in 8th grade. My sister and I were prater partners with Paige` Wilsek - we went to Catholic School. I will never forget it. She was in third grade and had cancer  that started as Leukemia and spread to her bones. Our church held a donor search to find a bone marrow match for her. The chances of finding one were pretty slim, she had AB blood type. I don't think they ever found a match... Paige` died before she finished 4th grade. I remember how hard it was to go to her wake and funeral, her mother comforting me instead of vice versa, thinking about all the things she would never get to do, the life she should have had...

Ever since then it stuck, and hit closer to home when I was just about 18 and received a donation of my own ("she's fine").  It took a while to sink in, you always think of an organ donation as a whole heart, or a kidney, or something like that. But the reality is that even a piece, one vital healthy piece can save someone's life.

At first I thought of it as some disembodied nameless pulmonary artery sitting in a freezer somewhere. It wasn't until someone asked me if I was going to send a thank you letter to the family that it hit me that I was alive and healthy thanks to someone else's final gift. I never did send a thank you, and still feel a bit guilty about that... But I guess if I think about it, the best way to say thank you, is to pay it forward, make sure I give whatever I can in the end, in hopes that it will give someone the second chance they need.

And I will also make it a point to harp on all of you so more can have that chance too! I don't want to hear that you think it's gross or weird, or that it freaks you out. You won't feel a thing, I promise.

So for all of you that haven't signed the First Person Consent Registry  to become an organ donor, go to http://www.lifegoeson.com/ and sign up.

For a more direct link go to https://www.ilsos.gov/organdonorregister/