Abra-Cadaver!

Over the weekend at my mom's house for her birthday celebration, I was able to visit with Erica and my niece, Molly. Both girls are first year medical students, and they were enthusiastically sharing stories with us about their experiences with their cadavers. Yes--formerly alive, now dead people who gave their bodies for the education of future doctors and researchers. Both girls have elderly female cadavers that they share with 3-5 other students during weekly dissection and study sessions. Erica's group calls theirs "CC" and Molly's is "Pearl."
I was glad we hadn't eaten dinner yet as they discussed various things they'd already discovered in their exploration of the bodies. Sawing through the spine and getting bits of bone in the face, an abdomen filled with congealed blood, ostomy bags, probable causes of death, and "the gall bladder is really green!!" Eww!!! I could never handle what they are doing myself; doing it on a frog or fetal pig in high school biology was bad enough. However, it was obvious how much they were learning, and clear that there is a respectful, almost protective attitude toward these bodies that once were living people with families and careers, hopes and dreams.
It got me thinking about my own post-death "plans." I have always wanted to be an organ donor, though as I age, my parts may be less usable. I don't plan to have my body buried; to me, that is the creepiest thing that could be done with it. I intended to be cremated, but wasn't sure what to do with the ashes. Unlike Fred--who already has a spot at the cabin picked out for his ashes to be buried, complete with a big granite headstone--I figured I might just be split between the girls and kept in urns in their closets. But wouldn't donating my body to science be a much more productive way to use it? It won't matter one way or another to me by that point. And who knows, maybe it could be used in research that would eventually cure a disease, or give students like Erica and Molly the opportunity to learn as they become physicians. The students who inherit me might name me Lucy or Carrottop. They'll see my various scars, broken ankle, and larger-than-normal brain and speculate about how all these things came to be. I think it sounds pretty cool! What woman doesn't want to be a mystery??!
I'll have to discuss this with my family and see what they think, but I'm liking the idea better and better.
And of course, I'll have to get skinny first.