I Hope No One Ever Asks For a List of My Library Books

I'm currently reading "Stiff" by Mary Roach. This book got a lot of attention back when it came out and it sounded very good. I was, however, in the throes of my 1L year, so reading was the farthest thing from my mind-- even if I had had free time, I wasn't inclined to engage my brain during it. Yesterday I was talking to someone in front of the Commons Collection. The Commons Collection is a collection of "real" books kept in the Law School Library for the students to check out for leisure reading. This kind of cracks me up because frankly, we don't have a heck of a lot of free time. Plus the choices of books in the collection are a little bit...eclectic. "Stiff" was on the shelf with a biography of Lindbergh and a John Grisham novel (which, to me, is the funniest choice EVER. Grisham lost his charm for me ages ago because of the repetitive nature of his books, but now that I'm in law school, I absolutely CANNOT STAND to read him. I spend, like, 100 hours a week here. I don't need to go there in my reading, too.).

Anyway, "Stiff" is good, but not great. The author is clever, most of the time. The problem is that she thinks she's clever all of the time. And she occasionally veers a little over the line to be a little disrespectful, despite her constant assurances that she has nothing but the greatest respect for the people whose bodies she's talking about. However, the subject matter is fascinating. I'm currently reading a chapter on organ and tissue donation, in which she spends a great deal of time talkign about the centuries old debate over where the human soul is to be found. Her research is a little sloppy feeling, but the issues raised are food for good thought.

I've always told the people who would be responsible for making such a decision (my parents and soon, I guess, Finbar) after my death that I very strongly desire my organs and tissues to be donated. Take it all. Use as much as you can. I certainly won't be needing it anymore and I could care less what happens to it. If I can save a life or significantly improve the quality of someone's life, so much the better. Now, reading this book, I think I would expand that a little further to say that if my organs and tissues can't be dontated for whatever reason, give my body to anyone-- ANYONE-- who could put it to good use. Research labs, Medical Schools, The Body Farm, even the automotive industry-- anyone who could learn something by experimenting with the mortal flesh that I'm no longer living in that might, however indirectly, save a life later. I also support legislation, such as that recently proposed in Ohio, that would allow you to sign a donor card (revocable at any time during your life) that would be binding on your survivors. I've never understood why, if I during my life express a desire to donate my organs, going so far as to sign the donor card at the DMV and get it put on my license, my family can override that choice at the decisive moment. So much emphasis is placed on the need to make important decisions deliberately, yet we ask people in the throes of grief to make the choice. Isn't it better if I, in the calm of health, make that decision after deliberation?