Cancel The Plan, They Have SpyTech

I’ve alerted Big Brother to my presence.

I recently submitted a change of address form online, conveniently linked to both the Ministry of Transportation and Ministry of Health and Long-Term Care (and the Ministry of Natural Resources too, but really, who’s less likely than me to have an Outdoors Card?). Now the Health Card folks are finally showing some interest in me; with my new address in hand they have after many years invited me to join the exclusive club of photo card carriers.

Yes, I’ve been clinging tenaciously to my classically designed red and white card as it has slowly cracked and peeled. It’s a lean source of vital information: name, an identification number, and a faded signature. The snazzy new edition will have my picture and electronically reproduced signature, birthdate, sex and who knows what other goodies stored on the modern era magnetic strip.

One feature of the new card that I greatly approve of is inclusion of organ and tissue donor information. Currently my consent is conveyed on some flimsy business-card like document that I believe came with a previous driver’s license mailing. Anything and everything that’s usable will be donated for transplant, and if it’s not then it goes to medical research.

My family thinks it’s slightly weird, but at least they’re aware of my choice. For me, I just don’t see the point of burial. Seems like a waste of space, not to mention the obscene cost of the whole casket, headstone, etc. angle of things. Particularly when the material can be used to help someone else or further scientific knowledge. And if these options weren’t available, I’d totally go the cremation route. I guess I’m assuming that once my remains are donated that the family doesn’t receive whatever leftovers there are.

On another note, I’m amused that I can provide my consent to transplant and research but exclude certain specific organs, such as my pancreas. Is there a reason someone would be unwilling to make their pancreas available? A question for the ages.