Lucy OwenReporter, Inside The World of Body Donors

Talking about death with your parents is a conversation everyone dreads, but my mum Patsy wanted that chat with me – and learning what she wants to happen to her body after she’s gone came as a shock.
Even in the darkest hours when she had bowel cancer a few years ago, I tried to avoid thinking about what it would mean to actually lose mum.
But, at 86, she sat me down to tell me she wants to donate her body to medical science after she dies.
Mum is certain she wants to be one of the 1,300 UK people every year whose bodies are donated to education as she feels without donors, the doctors of tomorrow won’t get the experience they need.
When mum told me she’d been already in touch with a university and everything was arranged, I was torn between admiration and confusion.
If I’m honest, body donation just wasn’t on my radar and I had loads of questions running around in my head.
How would her body be used? Would we be able to have a funeral?
But Patsy Cohen is nothing if not determined and pragmatic.
“I imagine a great big saw will come out and they’ll chop off a leg, but I don’t really mind,” she told me in her own inimitable way.

Mum wants to donate her body to show her gratitude to medical professionals as they helped her when she had bowel cancer and needed surgery four years ago.
She wants to help the medics of the future and told me: “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them, so this is a simple way to give back.”
As a journalist and inquisitive daughter, I naturally wanted to find out for myself more about what mum was planning to do.
So I made a documentary at a university that teaches using real human bodies – and the one where mum will go.
Our cameras were given rare access behind the scenes at Cardiff University to see what happens to our donated bodies.
We saw how students “developed a connection” with their donors and their relationship with the families left behind.
The anatomy centre is where medical students learn from real bodies rather than from textbooks in lecture theatres.
“There really is no substitute for being able to see, touch and feel real anatomy,” said Dr Hannah Shaw, who leads the anatomy education team.

Just as our bodies are different on the outside, she said physiology and conditions such as cancer or hip replacements make us different on the inside, too.
“Textbooks give you the impression that everything is the same and we’re not,” she added.
However, the use of real bodies in anatomy education is falling as advances in technology mean human bodies can be replicated in 3D on screens.

But Dr Shaw feels the real thing provides the best education for students like Freya Gillson.
“Things in real life look completely different to how you think they would look,” said the 19-year-old Cardiff University medical student.
“So working with donors is incredible. They are our very first patients and you do develop a connection with them – they’re our silent teachers.”
When someone who has pledged their body to Cardiff University dies, they are brought to the anatomy centre as quickly as possible.
The bodies are preserved and, if donors consented, some parts are removed and retained for further teaching. Donors can remain in the centre for up to three years.
When the time comes for the bodies to leave the anatomy centre, the university places them into coffins for a funeral director to collect.
Their families then get to decide if they want to cremate or bury them, with the funeral costs covered by the university.

So it can be a long wait for families as they grieve their loved ones, something the family of Joy Sesay had to adjust to.
“Her whole ethos was about helping people who were less fortunate than yourself – and being a good person,” daughter Jenny told me.
With eight children, 20 grandchildren, 23 great-grandchildren and three great-great-grandchildren, Joy left behind a very large family who held memorial services while waiting for the cremation.
Although some felt they’d had closure, granddaughter AJ admitted feeling “in limbo” without a funeral.
“It’s kind of been a bit strange because it hasn’t been your usual, go to the funeral and then you deal with it,” she said.
Inquiry rates from people wanting to donate have been lower in the UK in recent years and Cardiff has seen a fall, with about 50% fewer people registering since 2020. Although 154 people still signed up in 2024.
Not everyone can donate their body to science and for those that do consider it, universities “strongly recommend” they should tell their families.

At the end of the academic year, I went to the annual memorial event held by the university where families and students meet each other.
The students don’t say who they’ve worked with but it’s a chance for them to share what they’ve learned more generally.
“Seeing the pictures of our donors with their families, it made it all very real,” Freya said about that “poignant moment”.
“Everybody takes a step back and realises that this journey’s come to an end.”
For Joy Sesay’s family, it’s just the beginning.
“You think it might be a one-off gift of your body and you close the book, that’s not the case,” daughter Carol said.
“The fact is you open the book and the good that her body will do, not just for future doctors, but for future patients… we just didn’t realise the enormity and importance of what she did.”

It’ll be an unimaginable wrench when we do have to say that last goodbye to mum, but I’m so glad I know and understand her wishes.
In typical Patsy Cohen style she told me: “I feel when I’m not here, I’m not going to be wasted, it’s going to do some good and help make a better doctor.”
It will give me real comfort to know that she is continuing to make a difference and that makes me enormously proud of her.
Hopefully it’ll be many years before I hand mum over to the care of Cardiff University’s anatomy centre – and I’m delighted to report that Patsy is not going gently and is still living life to the full.
This journey has also led me to the decision to donate my body to the centre when I die, too.
Thanks, mum.