There mightn’t be much left on my carcass, but if it works, you’re welcome to it.

Organ donation has been in the news a lot recently and Organ Donor Awareness Week ended yesterday. I’ve carried an Organ Donors Card in my wallet for a good few years now. I’m not sure when it started, and I reckon there aren’t too many pieces of me that would be of any use to someone else.

My eyesight was always a little suspect, so I can’t imagine why anybody would want my eyes unless they take my glasses too. My liver has been severely tested over the years so that mightn’t make the grade either. There was a time back in the day, when my tipple of choice was neat vodka.

This came about as a result of many trips to Belarus and Western Russia in my days working with the Chernobyl Children’s Trust. In those days we made many visits to day care centres, orphanages, hospitals etc. bringing food, medical supplies or whatever to those who needed it.

One of the things they didn’t need was vodka because they made their own, and they had plenty of it. Every area had their own version of the stuff and it varied in strength from ordinary rocket fuel to grade A liquid dynamite. This grog was capable of not only altering your mind, but I suspect it could also alter your DNA.

There was one particular orphanage we used to call to and the Director there had his own special blend of vodka and he always insisted on presenting me with a plastic litre bottle of this nitro glycerine as a gift.

I had many experiences of this toxic waste previously, so I generally gave it away and avoided it altogether. I did keep one bottle though and I remember being at home one time in the lead up to Christmas and I didn’t have too much in the way of spirits in the house, so I decided to have one of these special vodkas.

I got a glass with some ice and gave myself a small measure. I was wary of it, so I topped it up generously with orange juice. I sat back in my armchair to have a read of the paper and after a few miniutes, I reached for my drink and discovered that the orange juice had curdled.

It had formed a crust on top of the drink and it looked like a scab on and old cut, so I threw it out. I gave my sister a small drop of it one night at a party in my house and even though she only had a small amount, she had great difficulty afterwards getting her tongue to form words. She became incoherent.

This brand of hooch was only fit for use in chemical warfare or for pickling corpses. It was certainly not fit for human consumption unless you happened to be from that part of the world and had been weaned on it.

But it was because of these experiences that I learned to appreciate decent vodka. Other than the homemade variety, the Russians have a wide selection of the drink and there are some fantastic blends. They also have some lovely customs when it comes to drinking it.

When sitting around a table for a meal, it is customary for every person at the table to make a toast. It doesn’t matter whether there are six or twenty-six people present, the toasts will go on. In Irish terms, the amount of vodka in each glass would be more than what you would normally get in a shot glass. A good healthy drop.

The person making the toast has the honour of deciding how it is to be drunk after the toast. So, that person can decide whether everyone should sip their drink slowly or just throw it back in one gulp. In my experience, it was invariably a case of ‘down the hatch’. Then you move on to the next person and repeat the process.

If you ever find yourself in this situation, you will figure out quickly that Russians know how to drink vodka. The Irish might consider themselves to be good drinkers, but we are only in the halfpenny place when it comes to this colourless liquid and we can’t compete with them. If you want some free advice, don’t even try.

So, I can safely say, that my liver is of probably no use to anyone else. I have a dodgy back that has caused me a lot of jip over the years, so I can’t imagine anyone queueing up to get their hands on any part of that. Knees and hips could be suspect too so all in all, there are no rich pickings on this carcass.

I didn’t let that stop me from becoming an organ donor though, because I still have a few bits and pieces that are functioning but on a more serious note, it’s something that everyone should consider.

A record number of organ transplants were carried out in Ireland last year, according to the Irish Kidney Association. 311 transplants from 150 donors were carried out in 2017, improving on the previous record of 127 organ donors in 2016.

A total of 192 kidney transplants were carried out at the National Renal Transplant Service in Beaumont Hospital, while 62 liver transplants and 5 pancreas transplants were performed at the National Liver Transplant Service at St Vincent’s University Hospital.

36 lung transplants and 16 heart transplants were performed at the National Heart and Lung Transplant Service at the Mater Hospital.

Those lucky recipients got a second chance thanks to the generosity of their donors and they are forever grateful. Helping others to survive is something we can all do by becoming organ donors.

It’s not difficult and it makes perfect sense.

3 thoughts on “There mightn’t be much left on my carcass, but if it works, you’re welcome to it.”

  1. Yes Trevor I certainly can agree with you on that score. In fact I clearly remember ( well perhaps not clearly ) but I have a somewhat sketchy memory of seeing one of our own, seemingly re-enacting a scene from the crucifixion, down on one knee and the cross over his shoulder, whilst trying to recover from the previous night. In fact there’s photographic evidence of the event. So yeah, that stuff is rocket fuel.
    Great article though.

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