Grey’s is getting to me…

Grey’s Anatomy is a fantastic addiction. I mean, a fantastic show. 🙂 I seriously have become so addicted to it, but it gets me thinking perhaps a bit too much. There were a series of episodes that challenged families to choose between donating the organs of a loved one when there seemed to be no hope for recovery, and the show tracked the struggle to decide what the best course of action was. It was absolutely tragic to me to see the pain that family members experienced (dramatized though it may be, this happens every day) in trying to decide what their family member “would really want.” I feel as though this is an unfair burden for any family member to carry. Not to sound weird, but I think it should be one of those things that is automatically decided and nearly proclaimed, whether or not you would want to be resuscitated, and whether or not you would want to donate different organs and body parts.

I probably should have warned you, dear reader, that this might be an odd thing to write about. I just feel as though its something that everyone should think about before they actually face a situation where that decision is an imperative. Nobody likes to talk about death, and that’s fair: I’m not suggesting this to be an awesome dinner table conversation (seriously, a total downer), but it is something that if dealt with before a problem happens, at least your family can rest assured knowing the decision they are making is the right (albeit hard) one.

So in true “follow your own directions” part of life, I will say this. I would want to save as many lives as possible, if my life wasn’t going to be able to be saved. If I get in an accident so terrible, or succumb to a sickness so great that there seems to be no hope for recovery, I would want with all of my self to be able to help others. I don’t say this to be a martyr, to be some awesome body-donating superhero. But really, why not? If I have viable organs and limbs and skin and eyes, I would love to be able to help someone else. As long as you don’t mind getting freckly skin, and “ginger genes.” But heck, I’m Irish – you can be guaranteed a good time! Now I realize this is not necessarily the easiest thing to read, because I know it will make you think about you want, not to mention think I am crazy. And I am not intending to sway you one way or the other. I just personally believe that if I am, say, braindead in a hospital bed, the Christina that my friends and family know and love is not really there anymore. So why not love the memory of me and use the physical me to help others? Bring relief to families who thought they had lost someone they care about. Think about how cool that is! My memory would live on in the body of multiple people! Neat! God bless the fact that scientists and doctors have figured that out, because being able to transport life to life is a stunning and mind-blowing fact, if only we pause to think about it. I’ve always wanted to be a blessing in disguise to someone, and in this kind of a situation, I truly would be! Sweet!

I have been meaning to write this for a long time now, and by long time I mean around 2 months. I struggled with whether or not I wanted to proclaim this assertion I have to the cyberworld, worrying that multiple people would think I had some secret illness that I haven’t yet revealed. I assure you, if I have a secret illness, it’s still secret to me. As far as I know, I am happy and healthy, and I plan on staying that way. But, if for any reason that changes, then you all know what to do.

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About Christina Moore

Originally from Portland, Maine, I now live in Chicago and work with extraordinary nonprofit organizations to help them champion their individual causes. My heart is in the 207, and my feet are on the ground in the 312. Enjoy readmoore!
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One Response to Grey’s is getting to me…

  1. Maggie says:

    This is perfect. My choice and thoughts exactly. Love you!!

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