I have been constantly pondering the idea of donating my body to science. I firmly believe that this would be the most fitting way to dispose of it once I am no longer here. I am aware that I am not merely my physical body. Although I'm not entirely certain who "I" truly am, I'm quite sure that once "we" depart from this world, we don't linger around fretting about what becomes of this sack of meat, water, and bones.
While delving into this book, I vividly imagined my body experiencing all the various scenarios that are vividly described within its pages. Some of them were rather disturbing, while others had a certain element of humor. Picturing my body being propped up as a creepy crash test dummy, all slumpy and uncooperative, actually struck me as quite comical.
Nothing has really swayed my decision about donating, except perhaps the testing of ammunition and guns and their effectiveness. I'm really not a fan of guns. Do I really want to contribute to that? Mary Roach astutely points out that one cannot specify where their body will end up, so I'm truly in a quandary.
Another potentially unfavorable aspect was brought to my attention by a friend of mine. She had a friend who was attending nursing school. For some inexplicable reason, they had to engage in some sort of learning activity involving cadavers. When this friend saw the cadaver, to her horror, it was her own grandmother. Now, this might sound like an urban myth, and it very well could be, but it does make a valid point. In the final analysis, it's ultimately about the loved ones of the deceased person and not about the dead individual themselves. So, as long as there is no one left who cares anymore, or my loved ones are completely at ease with this decision, then I will wholeheartedly donate my body to science.