Bodies for science

PORTLAND – Tina Murphy wants your body.

Not now. But one day – when you don’t need it anymore.

At retirement homes, at hospices and on the phone, Murphy woos people to give their bodies to science through her company, a private Portland concern called MedCure. Murphy says donating your body will help researchers eliminate suffering. In exchange for your “gift,” you get an all-expenses-paid cremation.

Murphy’s straightforward approach testifies to the fact that body donation is undergoing a nationwide revolution.

For decades, people known as body brokers worked largely unseen to make profitable deals for cadavers with funeral directors, crematory operators or morgue workers at medical schools or medical examiners’ offices. Periodically, scandals erupted. In the past 10 years, however, a small but growing number of companies such as MedCure have brought their industry out of the shadows through the power of corporate marketing.

MedCure’s friendly representatives, glossy brochures and snappy Web pages aim to make body donation visible and acceptable, a “death care” option that is economical, compassionate and Earth-friendly.

The industry has long operated with virtually no regulation, so its push to the mainstream has generated blowback from morticians, coordinators of the organ-transplant network and elected officials. But the biggest force shaping the destiny of body donation dwells deep inside the human heart.

Traditionally, giving your body to science meant signing up at a medical school to become Exhibit A for first-year medical students.

Today, that practice seems almost quaint as cadavers go from individual objects of academic and artistic study to … product.

Baby boomers, who in youth watched science put a man on the moon, are heading for sunset with hopes that science will cure death, a wish that drives U.S. biotechnology to revenue of more than $50 billion a year. Yet the inescapable irony is that to unlock the mysteries of living bodies, science needs dead bodies. Lots of dead bodies.

The skin of a cadaver, for example, can treat burns. Bones are fashioned into surgical screws, dowels and putty. Ligaments can rebuild knees. Researchers study cadaver tissue to look for genetic links to disease. The Army enlists cadaver feet to test the blast-worthiness of boots. Surgeons visit private practice facilities called “bioskills labs” to learn techniques or test instruments on heads or hips.

“Look at it this way,” Murphy says. “Do you want your doctor to learn how to do an operation on a cadaver or on you?”

In the body trade, an accelerating demand chases a perishable supply, and sizable sums of money change hands. But federal and state laws forbid the sale of bodies or body parts. To negotiate that shoal, companies like MedCure officially donate bodies to clients, then charge fees for preparation, administration, transportation and the like.

All parties to the commerce consider the fees to be trade secrets.

Before body donation took on a public face, obtaining consent from the previous owners of bodies or their loved ones was a nicety. When families discovered body brokering in funeral homes or medical schools, explosive stories surfaced. In 1985, Oregon’s medical examiner lost his job for donating pituitary glands and skin from bodies without consent and putting the money into an office fund for parties and furniture.

Scandals have broken across the country. For another industry, such bad press might spur politicians to produce reams of laws. Not for the body trade.

In New York and Florida, body donation companies must register with the departments of health, but there’s little enforcement. The American Association of Tissue Banks, a trade group, offers accreditation but has no regulatory power.

As science advanced and bodies became more valuable, some entrepreneurs realized that bigger money could be made by following the lead of Big Pharma. They could talk directly to the consumer.

Today, about nine companies operate in the body trade. Their names – ScienceCare, LifeLegacy, Anatomy Gifts Registry – echo those of transplant organizations. Their Web sites display photos of smiling, silver-haired adults hugging children. Slogans seek to inspire: MedCure’s is “Your Support for Finding a Cure.” Print ads on obituary pages promote donation as “Your Gift to Future Generations.” Brochures feature thanks from donors’ loved ones.

But the most effective marketing comes from personable people like Tina Murphy.

Murphy, 49, nurses a keen interest in the outcomes of body donation. She has lived with Type 1 diabetes since age 5, “and I always thought there would have been a cure by now.”

Murphy spent years in health care marketing. But nine months as a MedCure community education specialist has given her voice the knowing tone of someone who believes she is Onto Something.

“I truly feel our heart is in the right place, and the company is truly a very good company,” she says. “The people who do what they do here believe in what they’re doing.”

Murphy takes her pitch to retirement communities. She points out that only a tiny fraction of people who volunteer to donate vital organs for transplant can do so. But almost anyone can donate a body for education and research. The only exclusions: people with the viruses that cause AIDS or hepatitis B or C, and the extremely obese.

About a month after donation, loved ones receive the cremated remains, minus whatever went to science. They are bagged in plastic and tucked with a packet of wildflower seeds inside a heart-shaped, pressed-paper box – all biodegradable.