My Thoughts on the Experience of Viewing “Who Lives?”

March 30, 2009

Mr. Smith is a 58-year-old African-American male, who appears at least a decade older than his stated age. He is about 6’0, slim, and features a neatly-trimmed mustache. He sits stooped forward, and relies on a cane to get around. Mr. Smith has a pleasant affect, and even offers to get me a cup of water. His legs show moderate edema, and his eyes feature notable scleral icterus. Mr. Smith is on the list.
Mr. Smith inquires to whether I’m “also on dialysis,” and if I voted for Obama. I told him that I’m attending as a medical student. Mr. Smith believes that Obama will bring us “back to nature” and will stop “sending jobs overseas.” I smile and tell Mr. Smith that I hope the president helps solve the economic crisis.

Mr. Smith expounds on his dating woes. His last girlfriend was “too needy,” and wanted something more permanent than Mr. Smith was able to provide. Mr. Smith implies that his misgivings were more due to his lack of emotional readiness, rather than the fact that his remaining days are contingent on a fluctuating number on a table, and that, like many of the 101,236 current Americans waiting for an organ, he may die before receiving a much-needed kidney transplant.

I met Mr. Smith, because I happened to sit next to him this past Sunday in a downtown Los Angeles theater, to view “Who Lives?,” a play Sponsored by the Renal Support Network. The production takes place in early 1960s Seattle, and explores the moral anguish afflicting a committee dedicated to choosing the lucky few who will test a curious, but experimentally promising machine, which “removes your blood, cleans it out, and then returns it to your body.”

The panel consists of a devout priest (“God has chosen us for this very important purpose”), an overwhelmed homemaker (“Father, there isn’t anything spiritual about this!”), a blue-collar craftsman (“The workers are always getting a raw deal, so what’s so wrong…”), a pedantic, neophyte doctor (“Disease is just the gross exaggeration of aging”), a pushy Jewish lawyer (“F-ck doctors”), a beautiful, liberated grad student, and some un-endearing blonde guy, who instinctually rejects Black applicants, and focuses the rest of his attention on seducing the grad-student. The group’s task involves ranking people, not merely based on medical criteria, but also each applicant’s presumed “value” to society. Thus, the committee debates the relative “significance” of musicians versus businessmen. The wealthy versus the poor versus the “rags to riches” success stories. Women versus men. Women with children versus men. Fertile women versus infertile women versus men. Blacks versus whites.

Today, such technocratic management of life and death strikes one as pretty abhorrent. Unfortunately, however, I find no solace in our contemporary method of organ allocation. Indeed, while we, as a society, have come to recognize the human fallibility inherent in prioritizing human lives, we now do something far worse, by creating an artificial shortage of life-saving organs, and banning individuals, charities, and the government from paying people for their kidneys.

We invoke all kinds of moral arguments to dissect messy commerce and greed from the prim and genteel art of uprooting a meat-sized slab of tissue, hitching it to various tubes and plumbing out a urine stream. To defend the volunteer-only status of organ donation, liberals and conservatives alike manufacture arguments that they would never entertain, when concerning other topics: “The poor will be the first to give up their organs, and this is harmful!!” (Cs: Should we prevent the needy from obtaining payday loans or eating at McDonald’s? Ls: Ought we to restrict women from obtaining abortion or birth control, even if it posed her some risk?) “It will be racist!” (Check out the demographic makeup of the waiting list.) “It will cheapen the ideal of giving from the goodness of one’s heart! “ (Ls: Do you ascribe the same logic to food stamps? More ceremoniously- “Would you like to sign up today and volunteer to save a life?! Low risk and high ‘goodness of heart’ satisfaction! No? I, shamefully, haven’t signed up either…”) “Legalization will increase violence and coercion!” (Organ prohibition, meet drug prohibition), “Only rich people will be able afford them!” (Rich medical tourists and insurance-holders are generally the only ones who can afford obtaining organ transplants. If legalized, there may still be a disparity between the rich and poor in organ procurement, just as there is in all aspects of medicine, but this does not call for a ban on all medical procedures. However, we can legalize organ sales, and then- depending on whether you favor Heritage or TAP- accept a certain degree of inequality, or fiddle with our health care system, so that the poor can afford organs, as well).

My feeling is that most people oppose economic exchange of organs simply because the whole idea seems very, very unpleasant (yes, to me, too!). But good public policy is not constructed to convenience such a persnickety relic of natural selection as our sense of disgust. We ought to focus solely on whether we are actually helping people like Mr. Smith, who needs additional time to find the fellow freewheeling partner of his dreams.

In “Who Lives?,” while the committee pores over endless piles of pallid folders, the delicate housewife cries out, “We shouldn’t even have the power to make this decision!” However, she and her colleagues at least brave the clearly-understood ramifications of crafting countless letters featuring the dreaded words, “We regret to inform you…” Today, meanwhile, we largely avoid such formalities, by revering our high-minded legal dictates, and remaining casually inattentive to the tragic reality of thousands of end-stage kidneys.

Adina Cappell

MSII

USC Keck School of Medicine

http://healspiel.blogspot.com

Too close to home…

March 26, 2009

On the first Saturday of the play, I sat down in the Pico Playhouse, to see on its surface, the closed room dealings of renal dialysis candidate selection.  However, what Christopher Meek’s play truly centers on is the core of who we are as persons when we get to choose someone else’s sentence of life or death when there is no crime to speak of.  Who Lives? managed to mix humor with seriousness that director Joe Ochman ensured with a seemless flow of the story.  One was always wondering when the protagonist tort lawyer Gabriel was going to quip something hilarious yet again.  Or wonder if the good Dr. Shuster was ever going to get it, that it is the patient he is treating, not the disease.  The play does a wonderful job of not only putting into the minds of the audience the current events of the time, but also to capture the social mores that were prevalent at the time: the white sporting goods store owner Lazlo’s nascent chauvinism towards women and racism towards the very gifted black concertist who remains wordless yet ever present in his melodies; the stereotype mother, Francine; the progressive Alice whose graduate school experience has led her to challenge the norm openly; the union leader, Baxter, who sees things from the common man’s view; the steadfast Father William, a priest who struggles with his own ethics as selection committee chairman; the ever-pleasing law clerk, Jenny, whose efforts are at times dismissed or praised depending on Gabriel’s mood; and the neglected trophy wife, Margaret, who gave up her career after obtaining her business degree to be mother and wife for her ever cynical attorney husband.  In a lot of ways, Gabriel represents the stages that some of us go through from narrow to open-mindedness, from life to death, from in-human to human.

As someone whose significant other is still healing from a transplant in the last six months, I was curious as to the type of discussions that could possibly have taken place in the early stages of transplant medicine four decades ago.  It was amazing to see that the focus was on where someone came from, what they did, what their race was, how many children they had, and what their perceived moral status was.  Today, I know the criteria to be based on a host of factors based solely on the continued ability to thrive after the transplant is received with exclusion criteria based on the candidate’s health condition and scores such as the MELD (liver transplants).  If the play has given insight for the initial groundwork for today’s standards in candidate selection, I can tell you first hand that when the call comes in the late evening for the transplant one has been waiting for, selection bias is at most, a minimum.  Today, people can receive transplants whether they are illegal aliens, criminals, or combination thereof.  That is to say, the standards are based solely on the health of the person and of the organ being transplanted.  With this in mind, Who Lives? does a wonderful job of making one laugh, and yet hit home, for some, a little too close.

Medical Student

University of Southern California Keck School of Medicine

Brett’s Blog #1

March 2, 2009

rehearsalWe’re getting very close to sharing this ground-breaking story with the public.  To be clear though, this is a dramatization of what it was like to choose who lived and who died, and not what actually happened.  If you’re looking for a fact-accurate recreation of this story – don’t come looking for that here.  As they say, “leave the drama for the stage.”  What you will see however, is a collection of great talent, a great design team, and an amazing person (Lori Hartwell) who decided that this story needed to be staged.  Although not a world premiere, this newly-re-created version with selected script changes by the author is sure to leave audiences moved.  It’s hard to image that the first reading with this cast look place only a few weeks ago on February 12.  Just ten days later at the first run thru actors were “off book” and had transformed the words on paper to bringing life to the characters from the 1960′s, that were charged with hard choices of an imperfect system.

 

Last night we hired the final designer for our design team, and 16 miles to the south in Torrance, our master carpenter began building our set in preparation for installation into the Pico Playhouse next Friday March 6.  It’s amazing how in such a short amount of time hundreds of details come together to deliver a precise “live” performance before a live audience.  You just can’t get that in the movies.

 

I hope to blog about more tidbits in the days to come!

The Chosen One

February 20, 2009

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