On the edge of my driver's licence, there's a red, heart shaped symbol, which stands for a promise for life: once the driver can not survive in an accident, whose organs would go to those who are on the transplantation waiting list.
When I was asked whether I'd like to be an organ donor for the first time, I hesitated and said no. As long as there're still people who care about me, I must let them know before I make such kind of decision. Luckily, they all understand me and put it up to me, so I told them I'd like to be an organ donor while receiving my full license. The whole process was simple.
-Yes, I do. This brief sentence goes together with my view towards life. During the years I lived, I kept on questioning about the world. The more I know, the more I love the world. Out of the simple thought of helping others, I determined to be a doctor. Also motivated by the same idea and the impulse to find out why, I decided to work on for a PhD after finishing the study in medical school. I don't know how far I can go in biomedical area, but just believe that by working together with people from different fields, we can make life better.
Live to make my dream come true, this is the only reason I take good care of myself. If there would be someone who can live better through my organs, I'll wish them live in love and be glad that I can rest in peace finally. Just because I believe I would be treated properly.
But what if not? Here I'm going to tell another story, a very unpleasant experience of mine.
In 2010, I was engaged in a subject relevant to stem cells, and needed to collect some human subcutaneous fat sample. I contacted the transplantation unit of our affiliated hospital, and one day they asked me if I dared to go to the execution place with them together.
I had never been to any execution place before, so I said yes.
We took an ambulance and arrived at a garden in the suburb of Shanghai. After document examination at the entrance, the heavy steel doors closed behind us.
Later, another two ambulance from the other two hospitals arrived. I was surprised to see one of my classmates, who was in the burn unit of one hospital. He told me they would take all the skin apart from the hands, feet and the head-neck part for wound covering, the other hospital was about to take the heart and lungs, and the people I came with would take the liver and kidneys.
-How will they put the prisoner to death?
-Injection of overdose barbiturate, muscle relaxants plus high-concentration potassium chloride. The guy will die of cardiac arrest.
Then there came the bailiff car. The bailiffs took the prisoner to another room, and the dead body was carted out from that room twenty minutes later. The waiting doctors piled on.
-You can take your sample yourself now. A senior doctor said.
-Thank you. I'll try. I answered while putting on the operating gown.
I had seen birth and death many times during my internship, and I was never afraid of death. However, the moment I touched the body, the warm feeling kept me from doing anything. My hands trembled slightly at the thought that I was impairing the indignity of life.
-Why can't you take some tissue? This is very easy. Get scared, Aha? The senior doctor cut a piece of tissue, put it in a bag and handed it to me.
-Thank you.
My classmate came to me.
-Hey, we are about to peel the skin now. You'd better turn or leave this room, or you will have nightmare on seeing that.
-Thank you. But don't you feel afraid?
-I've been used to what I see. Do I have other choice? No, that's our daily routine. He shook his head.
I turned around and saw the name card of the dead. As I fled from that room, a gendarme saw me.
-Who are you? How did you came here?
-I'm a student from SMMU, and I came together with the transplantation people.
He walked in the room to have my words verified. I just sit in the ambulance, couldn't help thinking about what I saw just now-Everything is so clear till today-The man's face, his newly made cloth shoes, torn pants and the name card. He looked quite young so I thought his parents may still alive and would be sinking in grief on hearing his death....I was in such a deviated mood that I lost my cell phone that day.
Coming back to the dormitory, I searched the man's case on line. Then I knew he was haired to kill someone when he was 19, that was, 10 years ago. I couldn't figure out why he was put to execution 10 years after his sentence, because people who got a suspension of death sentence would usually get their release after served years in prison. I just hoped his execution was not the result of someone needed his organs. But who knows? If we have to sacrifice one life for the benefit of others and treat his body this way, then what is the significance of life? As doctors, are we helping to save lives or we are accomplices in some crimes?
We only live once.
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