Body of evidence
It’s no longer just a case of burial or cremation. Some people are choosing to leave their bodies to medical science.
When Lynne Johnston takes her final breath, she’s not being buried or cremated – she’s donating her entire body to science.
The self-declared ‘‘greenie’’ had no reservations about the decision she made six months ago to bequeath her body to Otago University’s anatomy department. She even has a sense of humour about it.
Johnston, 60, said she was considering getting a tattoo which would join the ‘Just plain nuts’ inking she got for her 60th.
‘‘I was thinking about maybe getting a little tattoo of a zipper going down. Just kind of adding a little bit of humour.’’
She also thought a ‘reduce, reuse, recycle’ logo would be appropriate.
Johnston is one of 12 people in the last year from the Nelson region who have chosen to donate their bodies.
She was a regular blood donor and an organ donor on her licence.
But all that changed when she was diagnosed with cancer.
‘‘Once you have cancer, you can’t donate blood anymore and you can’t be an organ donor. I guess I’ve always had this, ‘If you’ve got something you can help someone with, that’s what you do’.’’
When she heard about being able to donate her body to help medical science, she thought, ‘Yeah, why not.’’
More than 100 people in the South Island have had the same idea, with 167 people from the catchment areas of Invercargill, Dunedin, Christchurch and Nelson registering their bodies in the last 12 months.
Johnston has no religious beliefs, no children and no partner – all factors which made it an easy decision.
Registrations by potential donors require the next of kin’s signature. The only family she had was her brother.
‘‘It felt weird having to get his permission, but I can see why.’’
‘‘He said something along the lines of, ‘Our bodies are just a vehicle for our soul’. It was a really lovely thing for him to say.’’
‘‘I don’t think we handle death very well as westerners and it’s a chance to embrace our death as part of our life instead of this big scary thing that noone wants to talk about. No-one wants to admit it’s going to happen to them.’’
Auckland and Otago universities take body bequests for their anatomy departments.
University of Otago bequest liaison officer Kathryn McClea said every year the department required about 50 bodies. They were embalmed and stored for at least six months before being used for teaching across the medical, dental, physiotherapy, science and surgical disciplines.
The storage space has room for 120 cadavers which could be kept for a number of years through a special embalming method.
She said there were many ways each area used the cadavers, including anatomical dissections, studying the way muscles, soft tissues, bones and organs interact, and practising surgical procedures.
Some cadaver parts were plastinated and kept long-term in the Anatomy Museum for students to learn from.
Once a cadaver has been used, the remains are cremated and scattered on a rose garden at Andersons Bay cemetery in Dunedin.
If requested, some ashes are returned to the family.
The thought of being sliced, dissected and pulled apart by medical students may give some people the heebee-jeebees, but for others, putting their body to good use makes sense.
A registered body donor from the Marlborough Sounds shares many parallels with Johnston.
Lynda Clark had older brother sign on the dotted line, giving his blessing for his sister’s body donation, a couple of months ago.
She had also battled cancer and was an organ donor.
‘‘I’m 70 now and I thought I’m not sure the bits of my body would be that useful to other people ... and maybe it would be more useful to donate the whole body.’’
She was motivated to become a donor after a discussion about it at her book club.
‘‘I don’t have any religious beliefs that tie me into rituals around death. Why just burn it, you might as well make something useful out of it.’’
Sometimes circumstances don’t allow body donation when the times comes, due to where or how people die, and both Johnston and Clark have a plan B.
Clark said she wanted to be cremated ‘‘in the most ecofriendly way’’.
Johnston and her friends in Golden Bay have been building their own simple plywood coffins.
‘‘I’ll just be placed in there and taken straight to the Wakapuaka Crematorium’’ before being scattered at Golden Bay, she said.
Third year medical student Rowan McComish had never seen a dead body before his studies at Otago University.
‘‘It was certainly a shock ... walking in on the first week of term. Oh, there’s a body.’’
The only information the students have on the cadavers are their age and some of their medical background.
He said students would often find cancer tumours or see replacement knees and operation scarring.
McComish said having real bodies to work on was ‘‘a great learning tool’’.
He said anatomy was learnt in lessons and tutorials, ‘‘so we know in theory where everything is ... but every body is different’’.
‘‘It’s getting to see the relations with all the structures; it really helps to cement your knowledge.’’
A thanksgiving service was held annually to pay homage to the bodies used and to thank the families who supported their loved ones’ choice, he said.
‘‘It’s a great learning opportunity that we get to have these people that have given up their bodies to us.’’
Cadavers have been used for centuries to teach anatomy, but the way in which the bodies were received wasn’t always above board. In Europe, while criminals put to death were often used, some turned to exhuming bodies to sell to medical schools.
These days, some medical schools are moving away from using cadavers.
Royal Australian College of Surgeons education dean Stephen Tobin said though there were many people willing to donate their bodies, the handling of bodies in Australia was heavily licensed and ‘‘potentially costly’’ to medical institutes setting up.
So while many medical students still got the human touch, a number of institutes were using other methods of teaching.
He said a couple of schools were learning on plastinated parts of the body being ‘‘walked through’’ the relevant anatomy.
‘‘They don’t actually do the dissection and they may not see a whole body.’’
Another way of teaching was through digital imaging, ‘‘3D reconstructions of the human body all digitised so you can slice
a person, you can look at them front on, you can remove the skin, there’s a whole lot of things you can do but it’s really all digital’’.
He said one school in Australia was taking technology a step further by trialling virtual reality anatomy classes.
‘‘There would be some schools where ... there was very minimal contact’’ with cadavers.
It was possible to get a qualification and ‘‘not have done any dissection but have seen specimens and things along the way’’.
‘‘I think the technology stuff is fine. After all, in clinical practice, we apply our knowledge and use imaging to help make decisions.’’
Meanwhile, in New Zealand, Johnston is happy her body is set to be used as a teaching tool for students. ‘‘I’ve had really good experiences with the medical profession, whether it’s surgeons or oncologists or GPs, and you think, if you can help the next generation of those medical people coming through with bits and pieces of you that you no longer have a need for, it’s a good thing.’’
‘‘I don’t think we handle death very well as westerners and it’s a chance to embrace our death as part of our life ...’’
Lynne Johnston