Jonny, ...of course if you don't want to it's fine. But... did you ever consider that you can still hold fast to your beliefs and still donate? After your long life (and I do wish a long life for you) what would it matter what they did with "the leftovers" after you were done with them? You never know, there just might be something there that someone else can still use!
Just a thought... not trying to start an argument.
Not being an organ donor is cool too Jonny, this is America still.
We need not do something we don't want to do and it's not for everyone. I had to talk to my kids to see how they'd feel about it so there wouldn't be any emotional problems at that time on top of the obvious ones.
My brother died just over a year ago and his wife hurriedly had him cremated, very much against the wishes of his family and children and catholic beliefs that the body should be whole in the ground.
Was she wrong? It was her call to make and we couldn't discuss organ donation because of the powerful drugs they'd been slamming to try to keep him alive.
I was stationed in Italy at the same time and can't donate blood either. They have a permanent prohibition on people living in certain countries from donating blood, because of the mad cow disease that was going on in Europe at the time. (Called BSE)
Thanks Mark. Wow, you would think people could be tested to see if they carry the disease. Or there would be a time limit. If you don't have symptoms of bse by now, you don't have it.
Thanks Mark. Wow, you would think people could be tested to see if they carry the disease. Or there would be a time limit. If you don't have symptoms of bse by now, you don't have it.
Tell the Red Cross that.
The funny thing is that they DON'T exclude people who have risk factors for other infectuous diseases...politically incorrect to do so.
The other funny thing is when I decline to donate blood...and am asked why...and I tell them the reason for my ineligibility.
I was stationed in Italy at the same time and can't donate blood either. They have a permanent prohibition on people living in certain countries from donating blood, because of the mad cow disease that was going on in Europe at the time. (Called BSE)
My mom was 68 when she died, and my sister (a doctor) was there at the hospital, and said that mom's skin was especially important for burn victims. Also there was other stuff they were able to use. We got no bills for any of it. The hospital also paid for the cremation.
Re:"And for me to donate is to leave open a crack in my resolve."
Well, for your sakes, I hope that reality never intrudes on your rather active fantasy life. I can only imagine how ugly it would be if it ever does.
Fortunately for my sister-in-law and a few million others in the world, not everybody shares your incredibly selfish and myopic mindset. They've had their real-world lives extended by - and the quality of same immeasurably improved - by total strangers who had a little bit of care and concern for their fellow man...
I"m wondering - If I were sick and close to death - could I just sign a donor card right there in the hospital? Could a family member allow organ donation without my written consent?
Fortunately for my sister-in-law and a few million others in the world, not everybody shares your incredibly selfish and myopic mindset.
Gee thanks George, that was real nice of you. But ya know, George, I never ever said that I believe that being an organ donor is wrong. Never did I say that. I just said that it would be wrong for me, due to my beliefs. As a matter of fact, I am very grateful for those who have made the decision to be organ donors. I have a very dear friend in Texas who just received a new liver from a 24 year old young man who died in a car wreck. My friend, from his very early drug days, had contracted hepatitus C from a dirty needle, and was very near death when he "got the call" for his new liver. And, the operation went with textbook precision, and my friend now has a new lease on life. And, my friend met with the family of the donor (a very important part of this scene to help the bereaved in their loss), and it was a very deep and wonderful yet sad time for my friend's family, and the family of the young man who died. And end of a life, yet a new beginning for another.
My friend, with his new wife (his first wife died of juvenile diabetes), and two young sons, now have a solid future to look fwd to, instead of one of uncertainty. I am very happy for you and your sister in law also. And so, I am very thankful for those who have made the decision to do this. But as for me and my body, I fully expect to keep on keepin on until I am geezin, and I do not suspect my old body parts to be worth anything, that's all. And I do think it would allow a crack in my resolve. But that's just me, and not you. Do what you want George, that's fine with me, but don't call me selfish, for, my belief in this is one that is motivated by my love for my wife and kids who need me to be around as long as I can be.
And so now, I will look up the word "myopic". I am not a smart man, but I know what love is...
I"m wondering - If I were sick and close to death - could I just sign a donor card right there in the hospital? Could a family member allow organ donation without my written consent?
Just asking questions.....
Once you die, you no longer have any rights. All your rights are transferred to your next of kin or Personal Representative, if you've appointed one. Even if you have signed your driver's license to indicate that you'd like to be an organ donor, if your next of kin doesn't want to, they don't have to follow your wishes. Your rights become theirs.
No matter what you do or say, they can do whatever they please with your body, even bury it themselves, as long as it's not against the local law where the land is they choose to bury it.
The moral of the story here is to select a Personal Representative that can be trusted or be darn sure your next of kin will respect your wishes.
That's pretty interesting Bow. But, I gues that once one has croaked, it doesn't really matter anyway. But if it does matter, then I guess one should find a good partner like Sam McGee did...
The Cremation of Sam McGee
by Robert W Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee,
Where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam
'Round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold
Seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way
That he'd "sooner live in hell".
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way
Over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold
It stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze
Till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one
To whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight
In our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead
Were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he,
"I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you
Won't refuse my last request."
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no;
Then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursed cold, and it's got right hold
Till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead -- it's my awful dread
Of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair,
You'll cremate my last remains."
A pal's last need is a thing to heed,
So I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn;
But God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day
Of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all
That was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn't a breath in that land of death,
And I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid,
Because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say:
"You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you
To cremate those last remains."
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid,
And the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb,
In my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight,
While the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows --
O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay
Seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent
And the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad,
But I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing,
And it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge,
And a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice
It was called the "Alice May".
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit,
And I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry,
"Is my cre-ma-tor-eum."
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor,
And I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around,
And I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared --
Such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal,
And I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn't like
To hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled,
And the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled
Down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak
Went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow
I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about
Ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said:
"I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; . . .
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Tom Strange
Jonny, ...of course if you don't want to it's fine. But... did you ever consider that you can still hold fast to your beliefs and still donate? After your long life (and I do wish a long life for you) what would it matter what they did with "the leftovers" after you were done with them? You never know, there just might be something there that someone else can still use!
Just a thought... not trying to start an argument.
Edited by Tom StrangeLink to comment
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Shellon
Not being an organ donor is cool too Jonny, this is America still.
We need not do something we don't want to do and it's not for everyone. I had to talk to my kids to see how they'd feel about it so there wouldn't be any emotional problems at that time on top of the obvious ones.
My brother died just over a year ago and his wife hurriedly had him cremated, very much against the wishes of his family and children and catholic beliefs that the body should be whole in the ground.
Was she wrong? It was her call to make and we couldn't discuss organ donation because of the powerful drugs they'd been slamming to try to keep him alive.
I dig it we can choose what is right for us.
:)
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VeganXTC
Thanks Mark. Wow, you would think people could be tested to see if they carry the disease. Or there would be a time limit. If you don't have symptoms of bse by now, you don't have it.
Edited by VeganXTCLink to comment
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markomalley
Tell the Red Cross that.
The funny thing is that they DON'T exclude people who have risk factors for other infectuous diseases...politically incorrect to do so.
The other funny thing is when I decline to donate blood...and am asked why...and I tell them the reason for my ineligibility.
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Zshot
Mark correctly answered for me.
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ChasUFarley
I don't have any organs to donate, but I do have a piano that I'll let go for cheap.
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Kit Sober
old organs
My mom was 68 when she died, and my sister (a doctor) was there at the hospital, and said that mom's skin was especially important for burn victims. Also there was other stuff they were able to use. We got no bills for any of it. The hospital also paid for the cremation.
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George Aar
Jonny,
Re:"And for me to donate is to leave open a crack in my resolve."
Well, for your sakes, I hope that reality never intrudes on your rather active fantasy life. I can only imagine how ugly it would be if it ever does.
Fortunately for my sister-in-law and a few million others in the world, not everybody shares your incredibly selfish and myopic mindset. They've had their real-world lives extended by - and the quality of same immeasurably improved - by total strangers who had a little bit of care and concern for their fellow man...
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doojable
I"m wondering - If I were sick and close to death - could I just sign a donor card right there in the hospital? Could a family member allow organ donation without my written consent?
Just asking questions.....
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J0nny Ling0
Gee thanks George, that was real nice of you. But ya know, George, I never ever said that I believe that being an organ donor is wrong. Never did I say that. I just said that it would be wrong for me, due to my beliefs. As a matter of fact, I am very grateful for those who have made the decision to be organ donors. I have a very dear friend in Texas who just received a new liver from a 24 year old young man who died in a car wreck. My friend, from his very early drug days, had contracted hepatitus C from a dirty needle, and was very near death when he "got the call" for his new liver. And, the operation went with textbook precision, and my friend now has a new lease on life. And, my friend met with the family of the donor (a very important part of this scene to help the bereaved in their loss), and it was a very deep and wonderful yet sad time for my friend's family, and the family of the young man who died. And end of a life, yet a new beginning for another.
My friend, with his new wife (his first wife died of juvenile diabetes), and two young sons, now have a solid future to look fwd to, instead of one of uncertainty. I am very happy for you and your sister in law also. And so, I am very thankful for those who have made the decision to do this. But as for me and my body, I fully expect to keep on keepin on until I am geezin, and I do not suspect my old body parts to be worth anything, that's all. And I do think it would allow a crack in my resolve. But that's just me, and not you. Do what you want George, that's fine with me, but don't call me selfish, for, my belief in this is one that is motivated by my love for my wife and kids who need me to be around as long as I can be.
And so now, I will look up the word "myopic". I am not a smart man, but I know what love is...
Edited by Jonny LingoLink to comment
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bowtwi
Once you die, you no longer have any rights. All your rights are transferred to your next of kin or Personal Representative, if you've appointed one. Even if you have signed your driver's license to indicate that you'd like to be an organ donor, if your next of kin doesn't want to, they don't have to follow your wishes. Your rights become theirs.
No matter what you do or say, they can do whatever they please with your body, even bury it themselves, as long as it's not against the local law where the land is they choose to bury it.
The moral of the story here is to select a Personal Representative that can be trusted or be darn sure your next of kin will respect your wishes.
Chas - you crack me up!!!
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J0nny Ling0
That's pretty interesting Bow. But, I gues that once one has croaked, it doesn't really matter anyway. But if it does matter, then I guess one should find a good partner like Sam McGee did...
The Cremation of Sam McGee
by Robert W Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee,
Where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam
'Round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold
Seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way
That he'd "sooner live in hell".
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way
Over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold
It stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze
Till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one
To whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight
In our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead
Were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he,
"I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you
Won't refuse my last request."
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no;
Then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursed cold, and it's got right hold
Till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead -- it's my awful dread
Of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair,
You'll cremate my last remains."
A pal's last need is a thing to heed,
So I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn;
But God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day
Of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all
That was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn't a breath in that land of death,
And I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid,
Because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say:
"You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you
To cremate those last remains."
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid,
And the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb,
In my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight,
While the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows --
O God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay
Seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent
And the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad,
But I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing,
And it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge,
And a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice
It was called the "Alice May".
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit,
And I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry,
"Is my cre-ma-tor-eum."
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor,
And I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around,
And I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared --
Such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal,
And I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn't like
To hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled,
And the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled
Down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak
Went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow
I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about
Ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said:
"I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; . . .
Then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm,
In the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile,
And he said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear
You'll let in the cold and storm --
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee,
It's the first time I've been warm."
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Edited by Jonny LingoLink to comment
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krys
That's one of my favorites, Jonny!
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