In 1998, Clint Hallam, a New Zealander who had amputated his own hand with a chainsaw, became the first man in the world to receive a hand transplant, at a hospital in Lyon, France. The limb belonged to a young motorcyclist who had died in a traffic accident. The operation was an unprecedented medical success, but a tragic human failure. Three years later, after repeated requests, his transplanted hand was removed at a clinic in London. It bothered him; he felt mentally disconnected from it.
This week, Vall d'Hebron Hospital announced the world's first face transplant from a donor who had requested euthanasia. Being able to schedule the donation allowed for optimal extraction conditions and more favorable results. The transplant recipient is Carme, a woman who seems determined to follow a different path than Clint Hallam. Complications from an insect bite had disfigured her face, making it difficult for her to perform basic functions such as eating, speaking, and even breathing. Her life, confined to her home, was very precarious.
Organs transplanted inside the body and hidden beneath the skin tend to have less psychological impact than those that are exposed, visible, and tangible. In Carme's case, it's true that she will need support to relearn how to recognize herself and for others to recognize her as well; however, contrary to what is often believed, due to the tyranny of body worship, a facial transformation does not, in itself, alter personal identity. Deep identity has to do with character, with what you think, what you feel, and what you do. The traits that define you are primarily internal, not just aesthetic. That's why, when faced with identical twins, indistinguishable by their faces, we end up identifying them by their personalities.
Carme's new face seems almost miraculous, but it's the result of advances in science and medical technology. A surgical feat made possible by the talent and dedication of a hundred professionals. They are the true architects of this achievement, which they wanted to share publicly. What was surprising about the press conference was the patient's presence alongside the medical team, given that it was a transplant where preserving the anonymity of both donor and recipient was essential: although no information about the donor was released that would allow her to be identified, her family members were able to identify the recipient.
Despite Carme's desire to be there, and despite the exceptional nature of the transplant, it would have been more prudent to avoid this public exposure. In any case, if this story deserves a final focus, it's not the press conference but the donor's gesture. A woman who, faced with euthanasia, was able to plan her death thinking of the lives of others. She donated several organs, including her face, as if to tell death that it hadn't yet won everything, and that she would continue to live on in other bodies.
