A Cancer Survivor Reflects on Organ Donation

It has been 50 years since my brother, John Henry Mitchell, died at 21 of disseminated Hodgkin lymphoma, at which time he donated some of his organs to medical science in hopes that would help others in the future. The future is here. While I cannot know exactly where his tissue samples ended up over time, I do know that treatment now is tailored more to the individual — as with many cancer cases — and that some of the toxic side effects have been lessened. While statistics require more scrutiny, it is possible to say emphatically that five-year mortality rate for stage 4 has lessened dramatically.

One thing I did recently to prepare for the 50th anniversary of my brother’s death on May 15 was to add a penny for every year he lived to an Anchor Hocking carnival glass Liberty Bell bank I found at a local antique store for $12. While others were celebrating the Bicentennial in 1976, my family was mourning. Now, 250 years since the birth of our nation, I am showing a little spirit with this bank on my mantel. I had many pennies from my penny collection, and another brother helped me to fill in the seven missing years. Sometimes I pause and pick up the bank and shake it. There are so few pennies (John Henry’s life) in that glass bank. Symbolism reverberates.

Another thing I did in John Henry’s honor was to update my own donor status. I was already an organ donor, with that designated through my driver’s license, but I signed onto the National Donor Registry to expand my options. There I checked a box to agree to research as well as other uses. It is a simple box next to this statement: “I would also like to authorize organ, eye and tissue donation for research and education.” This option makes it more likely that I can help somebody after my own passing. In a comment box supplied, I also briefly summarized medical history, including HER2-positive breast cancer survivorship. That little box to authorize research is important. It shows that I agree to whatever might happen after I am gone.

When I was teaching writing to a college class, one semester we read the nonfiction book “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” by Rebecca Skloot. This book offers a perfect model for students needing to learn more about how to balance research and narrative in the exploration of complex questions. My students knew I was a breast cancer survivor. One day in class one asked me how it felt to benefit from her contribution to science, given the controversy surrounding the medical appropriation of HeLa cells from Henrietta Lacks (whose family has since been compensated for the theft as she did not sign off on her cells going to research). While that day I said I was thankful to her, I was inspired to research HeLa cells in the context of HER2-positive breast cancer. In general, although HeLa cells are not breast cancer cells, they have been manipulated to study cells relevant to breast cancer research.

On the 50th anniversary of his death I celebrate my brother for his modest contribution to cancer research. I celebrate Henrietta Lacks, who unwittingly influenced cancer research. I celebrate each and every one of us who does not mind facing mortality by becoming a donor, at any age, to help others live, perhaps, a little longer or with a little less pain. I recognize cancer needs curing to prevent human suffering. And I pick up that Liberty Bell bank once more and shake the pennies.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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