Further Confessions of a GP

Medical science

‘Dr Daniels, I’ve decided I want to leave my body to medical science.’

‘Oh right… okay. Is that the only reason you’ve come to see me today?’

Donald clearly sensed my general lack of excitement, and he looked more than a little disappointed.

‘I’ve been thinking long and hard about this, Dr Daniels, and I want medical science to benefit from my death. A cure for cancer could be discovered thanks to experiments on this very body,’ he proclaimed proudly, patting his beer belly. ‘What a legacy that would be to leave for the human race.’

‘Well, yes. Erm… thanks very much for that,’ I managed to muster, trying not to give away my feeling that Donald had a slightly over-inflated view of his potential value to medicine. I wasn’t convinced that the corpse of a retired used-car salesman from Liverpool was necessarily going to unlock the secrets of eternal health. However, despite the slightly narcissistic nature of his offer, his heart was in the right place.

His wish made me think about the poor people who had donated their bodies to my medical school. Perhaps they too thought that their remains would offer great benefits to the world from which they had departed. Little did they know that instead they were being left mercilessly in the hands of a horde of incompetent first-year medical students. Every Thursday morning we would prod away at bits of body with very little clue as to their anatomical whereabouts, often while nursing a terrible hangover. Looking back, I wonder quite what I gained from the dissection experience. It did help desensitise me early on to the brutality of being faced with a dead body, but I always found it easier to learn my anatomy from the anatomy colouring book rather than from poking around inside real dead people. I just hope that a few of my more studious colleagues achieved greater enlightenment and inspiration from the experience.

On reflection I decided that Donald deserved more encouragement for his decision: ‘I think it’s really great that you are willing to donate your body to medical science, Donald. Well done you. Are you on the organ donor list too? Wouldn’t it be amazing to have one of your organs live on in someone else’s body and keep them alive when you are no more.’

‘Yeah, I thought about that, Dr Daniels, but I’ve had to say no on that one.’

‘Oh, why’s that?’

‘Well, what if my organ went on to help someone who I didn’t agree with?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, what if part of my body was given to a terrorist or a suicide bomber or something? I wouldn’t want that.’

‘I think a blown-up suicide bomber would probably need a little more than one of your kidneys to keep them alive, Donald.’

‘Well, yeah, but you know what I mean. What I’m saying is that I would want some sort of clause on my donor card to say that my organ wouldn’t go to a religious extremist or a paedophile or someone like that.’

‘Isn’t being an organ donor about just helping someone else regardless of who they are? It’s about giving a complete stranger the gift of life. A stranger to you – but for someone else, a beloved father or daughter or wife. Through your generosity, you could extend someone else’s life for potentially decades to come.’

Donald paused.

‘I can sort of see what you’re saying, Dr Daniels, but I just couldn’t die peacefully knowing that one of my organs could live on in a Manchester United fan.’