Recently, I finished Kazuo Ishiguro’s, Never Let Me Go, and it got me thinking about organ donation.
The first time I thought about organ donation was when I was getting my health card. After the lady at the desk took my picture she asked me, “Would you like to be an organ donor?” This caught me off guard, this wasn’t a question I was expecting. “Uhh no” I said.
Why did I say no?
For one thing, it wasn’t a decision that I was expecting to make that day, nor was it something I put a lot of thought into beforehand. No, was my default answer.
One reason I said no, was my sheer ignorance on the subject. When she asked me that question, the first thought that popped into my head, was that if they find out you’re an organ donor, they are less likely to save your life. This is a complete myth, yet, I find it’s a common belief.
I also don’t spend a lot of time thinking about death. Thinking about organ donation caused me to think about my own morality, which isn’t a comfortable thing to think about. Part of it has to do with Western cultures aversion to talking or even thinking about death. That merely thinking about death causes it to somehow occur.
Thinking about it now, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be an organ donor.
There are thousands of people on the transplant wait list, why not give them to someone in need?
One organ donor can save up to eight lives. How can I say no to that?
Why not be an organ donor?