Ya got me! Blatant false advertising; I have no intention of talking taxes. In my defense, I figured nobody would read a post titled Upon My Death. Am I right? š¼ ...Not that tax is sexy...
My plan was to cremate my bodily remains, such as they are, after the ravages of ALS. Not unlike my baby sister, who succumbed to cancer, I figured it was my one last chance to attain a smokinĀ“ hot body.
In an effort to make sense of the unimagineable, my death, I gave in to the romantic notion, like the ancient Egyptians, I would bind myself to another being in the afterlife. I extracted a promise from my husband, to mix my cremains with the cremains of my precious cat, Gracie, who was my babe in arms, until my arms gave out from muscle wasting. From there on out, it was his decision on whether he was gonna shlep my ashes around or if he was gonna plant me in the ground, with or without him.
However, I'm a voracious reader, now thanks to ALS and audiobooks, a voracious listener, and I read Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach. An idea was born; I want to donate my body to science. I like the idea of recycling; reduce, reuse, and repurpose. Why take up valuable and finite space in a mausoleum or cemetery? Or even sit me on the shelf in an urn; reduced to an obligation to dust.
Personally, I would much rather allow my earthly body to go on to continue serving humanity.
It would please me to think of my body living it up in an afterlife. Specifically, I want to go to a teaching hospital, so I could be used to teach doctors of the future their skills. I could potentially be used to educate young minds to learn the end result of a hideous, terminal illness, or I could be used for honing surgical skills, or I could be useful to give practical experience to dental students.
Perhaps I could fall into the hands of an unscrupulous wash-out, who Snapchats me during a colonoscopy, and it goes viral, for whatever reason, and I end up on MTV's Ridiculousness with Rob Dyrdek, Steelo Brim, and Chanel West Coast.I mean, whatever, I'm dead. What do I care? I meant well.
I mean, my hope is that I do not end up as Soylent Green, (look it up, you f*n millenials!). But, the thought of a Tibetan sky burial, where they place your body high on a mountaintop, to become food for the critters, particularly carrion birds, is strangely appealing.
As author Mary Roach portends it is, ultimately, what your surviving family members can live with. I wouldn't want to exacerbate the grief of my family. My vote, if you're counting, is to go to the local teaching hospital. Family, let the discussion begin... .
My plan was to cremate my bodily remains, such as they are, after the ravages of ALS. Not unlike my baby sister, who succumbed to cancer, I figured it was my one last chance to attain a smokinĀ“ hot body.
In an effort to make sense of the unimagineable, my death, I gave in to the romantic notion, like the ancient Egyptians, I would bind myself to another being in the afterlife. I extracted a promise from my husband, to mix my cremains with the cremains of my precious cat, Gracie, who was my babe in arms, until my arms gave out from muscle wasting. From there on out, it was his decision on whether he was gonna shlep my ashes around or if he was gonna plant me in the ground, with or without him.
However, I'm a voracious reader, now thanks to ALS and audiobooks, a voracious listener, and I read Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach. An idea was born; I want to donate my body to science. I like the idea of recycling; reduce, reuse, and repurpose. Why take up valuable and finite space in a mausoleum or cemetery? Or even sit me on the shelf in an urn; reduced to an obligation to dust.
Personally, I would much rather allow my earthly body to go on to continue serving humanity.
It would please me to think of my body living it up in an afterlife. Specifically, I want to go to a teaching hospital, so I could be used to teach doctors of the future their skills. I could potentially be used to educate young minds to learn the end result of a hideous, terminal illness, or I could be used for honing surgical skills, or I could be useful to give practical experience to dental students.
Perhaps I could fall into the hands of an unscrupulous wash-out, who Snapchats me during a colonoscopy, and it goes viral, for whatever reason, and I end up on MTV's Ridiculousness with Rob Dyrdek, Steelo Brim, and Chanel West Coast.I mean, whatever, I'm dead. What do I care? I meant well.
I mean, my hope is that I do not end up as Soylent Green, (look it up, you f*n millenials!). But, the thought of a Tibetan sky burial, where they place your body high on a mountaintop, to become food for the critters, particularly carrion birds, is strangely appealing.
As author Mary Roach portends it is, ultimately, what your surviving family members can live with. I wouldn't want to exacerbate the grief of my family. My vote, if you're counting, is to go to the local teaching hospital. Family, let the discussion begin... .
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