Leave my body

Death wishes to meet me, to seep through my consciousness, teach me something.
I disregard death, thinking, why should I spend my waking hours contemplating his final embrace.
Is that too sexist of me? If woman brings life, then man must bring death. Man, in a general sense, and Men, in all their guns and gusto.


In the last few years the strange call of death has become audible to me. I've watched my parents grieve, and felt guilt, because I couldn't understand. I once read, that if you were to ask a person to write unashamedly, stream of conscious, all their thoughts, love, sex, God and death would be the prevailing themes. It's surprisingly true.


But I have always wondered- why? Why do we immerse ourselves in these rituals, these ceremonies of death and plans for our corpses. Why not live instead? Is it the comfort of ritual, of having a plan, of knowing that, despite NO knowledge of the afterlife, our shells can be taken care of, and our loved ones are given an avenue for their grief?


I'm a Medicine student who looks at cadavers for knowledge. But we don't call them people, we don't refer to them as 'Mr. X's upper limb.' We call them specimens and without our knowledge, after the initial shock and inevitable fainting episodes, begin to coldly dissect and examine, poke and prod, watch videos of and attempt to physically learn the intricacies of the human body. Because that's all it becomes- a body. Tangible flesh, with once moving parts that served particular functions.


But would I donate my own body to medical pursuits? I don't know. I'm not sure what I think about the soul and the importance of maintaining the integrity of my body, even if it will just be burnt to ashes and scattered into the sea. That's a baseless idea I inherited from tradition, and despite my logical brain, it's something I have to consider.


I used to say, I had no fear of my own death, I just feared the deaths of those I love.
But then, that's still a fear of the unchangeable and inevitable. Loss and grief stem from a sense of personal loss, more often than not, and the shaking up of your own existence. Most often people grieve because they regret the mistakes they made and the time they did not spend.
I'm more concerned that they will not be happy, or comfortable, or well cared for when they most need it.


Geriatrics and palliative care are seen to be fairly depressing areas of Medicine. If you're not saving the patients life, what's the point? But I have realised in the past year that we aren't going to become doctor's so we can 'save lives,' though that is a wonderful ability to have. We're giving people more time, and better quality of life to live through that time.


I'm not afraid to die, and I would not want the people I leave behind to spend their days contemplating what could have been and what may have gone wrong. I won't be able to correct or console them. I don't think I will even know.
I think we should Live, while we still can.

Here's some Florence, to celebrate that we will be seeing her in concert next year.
Leave my body