I remember the day I became a registered organ donor. I was 23 years old and a few months removed from leaving the State of New York for sunny Southern California.
It was the day I received my new driver’s license, which so conveniently lists your weight in California, as if regular ol’ folks like myself who’d moved to Hollywood needed any added incentive to feel like outcasts. The license also featured a circle for organ donation, on which residents who chose to opt-in to that state’s registry placed a bright pink sticker. (more…)