Apologies dear readers for the lack of update, full time work genuinely takes its toll on time and tiredness. So much that I’ve often wondered my worth on this planet, even more so since I signed up for organ donation.
Apparently only 29% of British citizens have signed up for the harvest after death, whether that has something to do with mass selfishness or the statistics count under 18s, I have decided to try and identify the over looked subject of organ donation.
Maybe some people just want to look beautiful when they die, or perhaps like my good friend said to me, “How do you know they’re going to the right person?” Organ donation has struck the nerves of the human opinion since it first began in 1954.
Knowing that my research wouldn’t be enough I decided to rely (and be lazy) by asking the question, “What are your views on organ donation.” Within an hour, I wish I’d never asked, however it did prove something; some will, some won’t, some might be persuaded.
In particular, if a person spent their entire life abusing themselves through drink, drugs, smoking, over eating and no exercise do they deserve a transplant? I suppose that’s the same as asking, does someone deserve to live or die; you’re not god (a god) so don’t answer that.
After I signed up for organ donation a very wise and intelligent person decided to scare the hell out of me, by saying this. “If you were in a 50 car road pile up and you had a 50/50 chance of survival, the doctors could attempt to save you, yet if they knew that you were an organ donor and if you died you could save 7 people’s lives, are you the priority?”
This is a valid point and the reason why after 2 years after passing my test, I still don’t have a car.
If you decide to sign up for organ donation you will be presented with a card that asks you to tick which parts of the body you’re happy to give away, bearing in mind that if you decide to keep something you’ll be asked why.
A work colleague told me that she wanted to keep her eyes; she received an enquiry phone call asking why for statistical purposes. I expected her to claim that they were her eyes to do with as she pleased, instead she told the man, “I want to see where I’m going when I pass over.”
Like an idiot I’ve given them everything, so it’s safe to say I won’t be coming back from the dead.
Since I was 17 I’ve battled with a fear of giving blood, as much as I’d love to, the idea makes my right arm shake, my knees tremble and my stomach flip; I also see spots. Needless to say, if I go down this road it won’t end pretty, so instead I opt for organ donation – at least I’ll be dead.
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