Not an organ donor

This morning I dropped Palmer and Dave off at the airport - they are going to see Dave's mother in Georgia. On the way there, a motorcycle driver came zooming past us, reminding me of why and how they got the epitaph Organ Donors. The idea is that everyone expects them to die in a motorcycle accident soon, and then their organs can be transplanted into someone else. 

California driver's licenses have a little pink dot on them for just this purpose: if you die in a car accident, the pink dot indicates you have already agreed to have your organs harvested so that doctor's can put them into someone else. 

I am not a fan of the whole organ donation/harvesting/transplant idea. I do not have a pink dot on my driver's license, but of course what happens to my organs after I die is not really such a big issue. What is more important to me is that I never accept getting an organ transplant, except perhaps a kidney from a relative. 

Because to me it seems to me that anyone who wants to give me life needs to be fully alive themselves. 


Popular posts from this blog

spring flowers

Dett í, ofan á, úr, út