Donating Your Brain to Science

Okay so I've had some pretty bizarre conversations in my lifetime. I'm a Mother so I've had more conversations about poop than I'd care to think about. I'm a Physical Therapist who works with the elderly so I've had more conversations about poop than I'd care to think about...old people and children love talking about their poop. (No idea why.) I've had conversations about death with people who are near the end. I've talked couples through positions for sex after hip replacement or after amputation. My point being, I'm comfortable talking to people about uncomfortable things.

Which is why I ended up being the one to ask my Mother if she'd be willing to donate her brain to science after she dies. It wasn't as terrible as you might think. Mostly odd. Kind of surreal. During her last appointment with the neurologist she, the doctor, asked me and my sister to step out of the room with her for a moment. "We're nearing the end here. Could be two weeks, could be three years." That's how the conversation began. To sum it up. My Mom has Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, there's nothing they can do to treat it. Would we be willing to donate her brain posthumously so they could study it and perhaps find a treatment.

Um...

Hmm.

"I think maybe we should talk to her about it first."

"Okay. Well I'll call you in a few days and we can work out how I'll procure it,"

Procure. My Mother's brain. Sure...no prob. My sister and I kind of looked at each other with that 'Alright, we'll rock, paper, scissors for who talks to her about this' kind of look. The last time my sister tried talking to Mom about end of life business my sister started crying, Mom started crying...it was a big mess. But I have these talks with patients all the time. Without crying. No need to do rock, paper, scissors. I won by default.

Sigh.

So after the two hour drive back to the nursing home I sat down to have this very bizarre conversation with my Mom. The person who gave me life. Surprisingly it's not the strangest conversation I've had with her. (You'd have to know us better to understand.)

"So, Mom. The Doctor wants to know if we'd be willing to donate your brain to science so she can study it and hopefully learn something that will help someone else."

She paused and gave me a blank stare. She knows the prognosis of the disease. After careful thought she said,

"Okay they can have it. But I'd like them to wait for me to be dead before they take it..."

Now that's the Mom I know and love. Laughing in the face of something that really isn't funny. I assured her I'd make sure she was completely dead before they got anywhere near her with a scalpel or saw.