mike1414
18th April 2010, 14:16
In 1995, Sonny Graham, a 69-year-old resident of Vidalia, Georgia, and former director of the Heritage golf tournament at Sea Pines, was suffering from congestive heart failure. He received a heart transplant from 33-year-old Terry Cottle of Charleston, South Carolina, who had killed himself. Graham did well following surgery and began to write letters of gratitude to the donor's family. In 1997 he met his donor's widow, fell in love, and married her. In April 2008, 12 years following his transplant, Graham died the same way his donor did—from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. He was found dead in a utility building in his backyard from a single shotgun wound to the throat. The Georgia Bureau of Investigation found no evidence of foul play.
Following Graham's suicide, the blogosphere lit up with chatter. Some wags cruelly observed that, since both the donor and recipient had married the same woman, she must have driven them both to suicide. The fact that she was a compassionate, caring hospice worker didn't seem to matter.
Most commentators, however, offered the popular “cellular memory” hypothesis—the speculation that memories, habits, interests, and tastes may be stored not only in the brain, but in all the cells of the human body. An extension of this idea is that these traits may be transferable from one person to another via organ transplantation. According to this reasoning, Cottle's donor heart was a vehicle for transferring his suicidal depression to Graham. If true, Graham got not only a living heart, but a death sentence as well.
In 2000, Pearsall et al4 published an influential paper, “Changes in Heart Transplant Recipients that Parallel the Personalities of Their Donors.” Their study consisted of interviews with 10 patients who had received heart transplants—seven males and three females, aged from seven months to 56 years old—and their families and friends. They also interviewed 10 heart-lung recipients—five males and five females, aged 16 months to 34 years—and their families and friends. Also interviewed were the families and friends of the deceased donors.
One donor was a 16-month-old boy, Jerry, who drowned in a bathtub. The recipient of his heart was Carter, a seven-month-old boy diagnosed with tetralogy of Fallot, a congenital heart defect. If uncorrected, 70% of patients are dead by age 10.
The mother of Jerry, the donor, was a physician. She reported:
The first thing is that I could more than hear Jerry's heart. I could feel it in me. When Carter first saw me, he ran to me and pushed his nose against me and rubbed and rubbed it. It was just exactly what we did with Jerry. Jerry and Carter's heart is 5 years old now, but Carter's eyes were Jerry's eyes. When he hugged me, I could feel my son. I mean I could feel him, not just symbolically. He was there. I felt his energy.
I'm a doctor. I'm trained to be a keen observer and have always been a natural born skeptic. But this was real. I know people will say that I need to believe my son's spirit is alive, and perhaps I do. But I felt it. My husband and my father felt it. And I swear to you, and you can ask my mother, Carter said the same baby-talk words that Jerry said. Carter is 6, but he was talking Jerry's baby talk and playing with my nose just like Jerry did.
We stayed with the [recipient family] that night. In the middle of the night, Carter came in and asked to sleep with my husband and me. He cuddled up between us exactly like Jerry did, and we began to cry. Carter told us not to cry because Jerry said everything was okay. My husband and I, our parents, and those who really knew Jerry have no doubt. Our son's heart contains much of our son and beats in Carter's chest. On some level, our son is still alive.
The recipient's mother reported:
I saw Carter go to her [the donor's mother]. He never does that. He is very, very shy, but he went to her just like he used to run to me when he was a baby. When he whispered “It's okay, Mama,” I broke down. He called her Mother, or maybe it was Jerry's heart talking. And one more thing that got to us. We found out talking to Jerry's mom that Jerry had mild cerebral palsy, mostly on his left side. Carter has stiffness and some shaking on that same side. He never did as a baby and it only showed up after the transplant. The doctors say it's probably something to do with his medical condition, but I really think there's more to it.
One more thing I'd like you to know about. When we went to church together, Carter had never met Jerry's father. We came late and Jerry's dad was sitting with a group of people in the middle of the congregation. Carter let go of my hand and ran right to that man. He climbed on his lap, hugged him, and said “Daddy.” We were flabbergasted. How could he have known him? Why did he call him Dad? He never did things like that. He would never let go of my hand in church and never run to a stranger. When I asked him why he did it, he said he didn't. He said Jerry did and he went with him.
The authors found parallels between donors and recipients “in food, music, art, sexual, recreational, and career preferences, as well as specific instances of perceptions of names and sensory experiences related to the donors (eg, one donor was killed by a gunshot wound to the face; the recipient had dreams of seeing hot flashes of light in his face).” They found from two to five posttransplant parallels between donors and recipients per case. They concluded, “The effects of the immunosuppressive drugs, stress of the surgery, and statistical coincidence are likely insufficient to explain the findings. The plausibility of cellular memory, possibly systemic memory, is suggested.”
very interesting - http://www.explorejournal.com/article/S1550-8307%2808%2900210-3/fulltext
peace always
mike
Following Graham's suicide, the blogosphere lit up with chatter. Some wags cruelly observed that, since both the donor and recipient had married the same woman, she must have driven them both to suicide. The fact that she was a compassionate, caring hospice worker didn't seem to matter.
Most commentators, however, offered the popular “cellular memory” hypothesis—the speculation that memories, habits, interests, and tastes may be stored not only in the brain, but in all the cells of the human body. An extension of this idea is that these traits may be transferable from one person to another via organ transplantation. According to this reasoning, Cottle's donor heart was a vehicle for transferring his suicidal depression to Graham. If true, Graham got not only a living heart, but a death sentence as well.
In 2000, Pearsall et al4 published an influential paper, “Changes in Heart Transplant Recipients that Parallel the Personalities of Their Donors.” Their study consisted of interviews with 10 patients who had received heart transplants—seven males and three females, aged from seven months to 56 years old—and their families and friends. They also interviewed 10 heart-lung recipients—five males and five females, aged 16 months to 34 years—and their families and friends. Also interviewed were the families and friends of the deceased donors.
One donor was a 16-month-old boy, Jerry, who drowned in a bathtub. The recipient of his heart was Carter, a seven-month-old boy diagnosed with tetralogy of Fallot, a congenital heart defect. If uncorrected, 70% of patients are dead by age 10.
The mother of Jerry, the donor, was a physician. She reported:
The first thing is that I could more than hear Jerry's heart. I could feel it in me. When Carter first saw me, he ran to me and pushed his nose against me and rubbed and rubbed it. It was just exactly what we did with Jerry. Jerry and Carter's heart is 5 years old now, but Carter's eyes were Jerry's eyes. When he hugged me, I could feel my son. I mean I could feel him, not just symbolically. He was there. I felt his energy.
I'm a doctor. I'm trained to be a keen observer and have always been a natural born skeptic. But this was real. I know people will say that I need to believe my son's spirit is alive, and perhaps I do. But I felt it. My husband and my father felt it. And I swear to you, and you can ask my mother, Carter said the same baby-talk words that Jerry said. Carter is 6, but he was talking Jerry's baby talk and playing with my nose just like Jerry did.
We stayed with the [recipient family] that night. In the middle of the night, Carter came in and asked to sleep with my husband and me. He cuddled up between us exactly like Jerry did, and we began to cry. Carter told us not to cry because Jerry said everything was okay. My husband and I, our parents, and those who really knew Jerry have no doubt. Our son's heart contains much of our son and beats in Carter's chest. On some level, our son is still alive.
The recipient's mother reported:
I saw Carter go to her [the donor's mother]. He never does that. He is very, very shy, but he went to her just like he used to run to me when he was a baby. When he whispered “It's okay, Mama,” I broke down. He called her Mother, or maybe it was Jerry's heart talking. And one more thing that got to us. We found out talking to Jerry's mom that Jerry had mild cerebral palsy, mostly on his left side. Carter has stiffness and some shaking on that same side. He never did as a baby and it only showed up after the transplant. The doctors say it's probably something to do with his medical condition, but I really think there's more to it.
One more thing I'd like you to know about. When we went to church together, Carter had never met Jerry's father. We came late and Jerry's dad was sitting with a group of people in the middle of the congregation. Carter let go of my hand and ran right to that man. He climbed on his lap, hugged him, and said “Daddy.” We were flabbergasted. How could he have known him? Why did he call him Dad? He never did things like that. He would never let go of my hand in church and never run to a stranger. When I asked him why he did it, he said he didn't. He said Jerry did and he went with him.
The authors found parallels between donors and recipients “in food, music, art, sexual, recreational, and career preferences, as well as specific instances of perceptions of names and sensory experiences related to the donors (eg, one donor was killed by a gunshot wound to the face; the recipient had dreams of seeing hot flashes of light in his face).” They found from two to five posttransplant parallels between donors and recipients per case. They concluded, “The effects of the immunosuppressive drugs, stress of the surgery, and statistical coincidence are likely insufficient to explain the findings. The plausibility of cellular memory, possibly systemic memory, is suggested.”
very interesting - http://www.explorejournal.com/article/S1550-8307%2808%2900210-3/fulltext
peace always
mike