Today I went to the ME to pick up a young woman who apparently died after sex and drugs with a date. The guys at ME know me well enough to fill me in on these things now, and I think that's very cool. The date, needless to say, is under investigation, and I'm sure he's shitting bricks no matter what really happened.
Last week another driver and I went to the ME. While waiting for property of a decedent, a medical investigator knocked on the door to one of the offices in the lobby where a man was apparently discussing matters of a loved one who died. The man was upset for being disturbed at such a time by the investigator.
The investigator, calm and polite, said that he is sorry, and that it was his regret to tell the man that his son was killed by a car while walking to school that morning. In disbelief, the man asked how he knew it was his son. The investigator told him that they recovered his son's backpack and his ID matched.
Just then the clerk at the window shouted to us through the bulletproof glass that there was no property for us, so we quietly walked out, leaving this heavy conversation. Both of us were stunned by what we just witnessed. Families tell us all the time how hard our jobs must be; I think the guy delivering the bad news has it harder.
I need to blog more frequently. It's very difficult to remember a month's work.
One that comes to mind is a nursing home call I went to late one night. An old man in a darkened facility. The nurse showed me the way and I asked if I can just wrap him up in the bed sheets and take everything with me (this is a common procedure; it just saves time). The nurse said yes, take it all and the bad energy out. Asked about the bad energy, the nurse replied that she's seen ghosts at the home and she's spooked. I asked her whether the old man who just died was a nice man. He was, she said, so I told her that I didn't think you need to worry about him.
I asked how long she's been doing this and she said three years. I told her that in almost a year I've yet to see or hear anything. She went on to tell me about a little red-headed girl ghost and how the residents also talk to this girl. I asked that if she is so spooked why not find another job, and she just said that she has to pay the bills. She told me that when she first started she wanted to find out whether these things were true and now she believes. She also seemed eager to see me go so I left quickly.
I then drove to a hospice, thinking about what the nurse said. Perhaps for my own sanity, I concluded that one's attitude towards these things plays a big role, and mine is that whether there are ghosts or not is not up to me, and that what is is just is.
One time I had a dream that I was on a house call, and a grandma who died started moving and came back to life. The family was freaking out but I was happy for everyone since granny wasn't dead after all. What that says about me I don't know.
The cooler is completely full and then some now, with bodies on tables taking up all the floor space inside. There must be 80 bodies in there plus about 20 embalmed bodies in the prep room. It is officially the busy season for this industry.
Also today I stopped by my old place of work, a small private funeral home close to my home to pick up a body. The greedy and socially inept owner came down to get the body out of his small cooler. Nothing has changed there, except for yet another new driver who was packing creation boxes into the same old crappy van to drive up to the crematory out of town. Poor bastard, little does he know. A former office assistant from there told me that other than the lead driver, whom I still run into from time to time, and the little chihuahua bitch manager, everyone I knew there are all gone. It's been seven months since I left, and being back, all I could think was how grateful I am to be where I am now.
The Asst. and I, running night calls, often see motorcyclists driving fast, weaving in and out of lanes (we call them donorcycles). One zooms by and he'll say, "See you soon". Another zooms by even faster, and he'll say, "See you very, very soon". Jokingly we mutter to ourselves whenever old people stare at us pushing a body on a gurney down the hallways of their assisted living homes: See you soon...
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Saturday, November 5, 2011
No one dies pretty
It's been getting busier in this business of taking care of the dead. As predicted, more people have been dying as winter gets closer. The cooler is now full and embalmers are busy everyday prepping bodies for services.
A firefighter (off duty) was run over by several cars when he stopped at a fender bender on the freeway. Every part of his body was mangled, including his head, which was crushed and unrecognizable. Bruises and scrapes all over, I just hope death was quick for him.
On a night call, the Asst. and I went to a house where an old man died in his bedroom. The paramedics dragged him onto the floor and left him there, with tubes still stuck in his throat and blood all over his face. The grieving wife wanted to see him one last time and the Asst. offered to clean him up a bit before she did. It was the right decision, she and her granddaughter will have a better memory of grandpa for the rest of their lives. Afterward, the Asst. bought ice cream for both of us, to cheer himself up after such an emotional ordeal.
I like the fact that we are always in serious and sometimes emotional situations. I feel like we make a difference for the better in people's lives at tumultuous times.
Another first for me: Pick up on scene of a suicide. A Navy soldier had hung himself in his bedroom at the barracks on base. By the time we got there, Navy police were cutting off the fan blade to which the rope was attached and the body was still dangling from it. The fan was above the bed, so if he really didn't want to die, all the soldier had to do was stand up on his bed. But from what I could tell, he wanted to die so he just leaned back sitting on his bed and that was that. A young man in his 20s, we took him to the military hospital where he would be autopsied.
At the mortuary sometimes we could hear people cry over their loved ones in the viewing rooms. One day a mother was absolutely wailing over her 21 year old son who apparently said he didn't feel well, so he laid down to rest and never woke up. It was hard to listen to such cries so I went in the prep room to help the embalmers.
One night I was on call solo. A call came in about a 320 lb. woman who died in the ICU at a hospital. normally I would have declined doing this alone but for some reason I decided to give it a shot. I took the large gurney and with some help we loaded the large, round body onto it and I loaded the body into the van. It wasn't as difficult as I thought. Working out these days to increase my strength pays off in times like this.
On another solo night call, a chaplain was present where a man died in a hospice. The chaplain lady was very nice and rather pretty. Asked about her job, she said she visits terminally ill patients to offer spiritual guidance in their last moments. In this particular case, the patient had already passed by the time she got there, but she sat by him bedside anyway to pray for him. I admire people like this, doing such a job in a dignified manner even though it goes unnoticed. I wanted to ask her out as we rolled out the gurney to the van, but I didn't. I just said nice to meet you and maybe we'll meet again.
A wedding ring went missing on an old man in his casket. Such mistakes can cost someone his job in this business, so all of us in the prep room dug through all the trash, including biohazard bags for this ring. Sifting through used diapers, bloody sheets and colostomy bags was not easy. We also went to the sister mortuary to look through the casket and clothes of the deceased. Ring didn't turn up, but now more people beyond the prep room are involved, so we saved all the trash and it is now piled up inside the prep room in case anyone else wants to look through them. With so many people handling personal items it is impossible to narrow down people on possible theft. We'll see what happens this coming week.
There is an electric organ with foot pedals behind one of our chapels. I like to go play it once in a while and dust off the keyboard, since no one touches it anymore. It's challenging to play bass notes with my feet but with enough practice I think I can get the hang of it. Families really don't request organ music anymore, most opting to bring their CDs and mp3s for services. Times have changed in this regard.
A firefighter (off duty) was run over by several cars when he stopped at a fender bender on the freeway. Every part of his body was mangled, including his head, which was crushed and unrecognizable. Bruises and scrapes all over, I just hope death was quick for him.
On a night call, the Asst. and I went to a house where an old man died in his bedroom. The paramedics dragged him onto the floor and left him there, with tubes still stuck in his throat and blood all over his face. The grieving wife wanted to see him one last time and the Asst. offered to clean him up a bit before she did. It was the right decision, she and her granddaughter will have a better memory of grandpa for the rest of their lives. Afterward, the Asst. bought ice cream for both of us, to cheer himself up after such an emotional ordeal.
I like the fact that we are always in serious and sometimes emotional situations. I feel like we make a difference for the better in people's lives at tumultuous times.
Another first for me: Pick up on scene of a suicide. A Navy soldier had hung himself in his bedroom at the barracks on base. By the time we got there, Navy police were cutting off the fan blade to which the rope was attached and the body was still dangling from it. The fan was above the bed, so if he really didn't want to die, all the soldier had to do was stand up on his bed. But from what I could tell, he wanted to die so he just leaned back sitting on his bed and that was that. A young man in his 20s, we took him to the military hospital where he would be autopsied.
At the mortuary sometimes we could hear people cry over their loved ones in the viewing rooms. One day a mother was absolutely wailing over her 21 year old son who apparently said he didn't feel well, so he laid down to rest and never woke up. It was hard to listen to such cries so I went in the prep room to help the embalmers.
One night I was on call solo. A call came in about a 320 lb. woman who died in the ICU at a hospital. normally I would have declined doing this alone but for some reason I decided to give it a shot. I took the large gurney and with some help we loaded the large, round body onto it and I loaded the body into the van. It wasn't as difficult as I thought. Working out these days to increase my strength pays off in times like this.
On another solo night call, a chaplain was present where a man died in a hospice. The chaplain lady was very nice and rather pretty. Asked about her job, she said she visits terminally ill patients to offer spiritual guidance in their last moments. In this particular case, the patient had already passed by the time she got there, but she sat by him bedside anyway to pray for him. I admire people like this, doing such a job in a dignified manner even though it goes unnoticed. I wanted to ask her out as we rolled out the gurney to the van, but I didn't. I just said nice to meet you and maybe we'll meet again.
A wedding ring went missing on an old man in his casket. Such mistakes can cost someone his job in this business, so all of us in the prep room dug through all the trash, including biohazard bags for this ring. Sifting through used diapers, bloody sheets and colostomy bags was not easy. We also went to the sister mortuary to look through the casket and clothes of the deceased. Ring didn't turn up, but now more people beyond the prep room are involved, so we saved all the trash and it is now piled up inside the prep room in case anyone else wants to look through them. With so many people handling personal items it is impossible to narrow down people on possible theft. We'll see what happens this coming week.
There is an electric organ with foot pedals behind one of our chapels. I like to go play it once in a while and dust off the keyboard, since no one touches it anymore. It's challenging to play bass notes with my feet but with enough practice I think I can get the hang of it. Families really don't request organ music anymore, most opting to bring their CDs and mp3s for services. Times have changed in this regard.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
A shot in the dark
Another eventful couple of weeks. I went to a hospice to pick up an old lady. Her husband decided to put her there for her last days, and when paramedics took her into the elevator of their apartment complex, she died. They called the husband to tell him the news and asked if he wanted her back inside their home. He declined, so they brought her to the hospice already dead. When I arrived, they didn't even get to admit her, not even an ID tag ready.
They told me what happened, and the nurses were talking about a strange voice they heard earlier in the evening. Two of them heard the same thing and they were unnerved a bit. So we talked about that and how I've yet to hear anything in the mortuary late at night when I'm there by myself. They seemed intrigued with my job.
Another case from the ME: A taxi driver was shot in the head point blank. When I saw two large bullet holes in the skull of the man I expected to see larger exit wounds but I saw none. Next time at ME I asked about this case and one of the autopsy assistant said he remembered that one, and that what happened was that the bullet entered the head and exited out on the same side. The bullet took a U-turn. Strange but true, and why he got shot is anyone's guess.
Two Marine pilots who crashed in their aircrafts while training came in. The embalmer said the bodies were unrecognizable, totally mangled. Yet they were embalmed and casketed for ship out with an escort.
First one I took early in the morning with a very tall Marine escort. The soldier was rather stiff and dull, a little too serious compared to other escorts I've had ride along. Once on the tarmac at the airport, the family of the pilot walked down and witnessed their loved one being loaded onto the plane. It was sad to see in the side view mirror the teenage daughter crying. Otherwise it was really cool to drive under and around 737s on the tarmac, chatting with the airline crew.
Second one I took around noon a week later, and this time the escort met me at the airport. A Major, the escort was a very sweet guy, super humble and courteous. I really enjoyed talking with him while waiting out the delayed flight. He said to me, "I couldn't do what you do." I said I couldn't do what you do. There was no family on the tarmac this time, but as always, the escort saluted the casket as it was loaded onto the plane. We shook hands and parted ways.
Yesterday I saw a green decomposing baby in a body bag. I wondered how the baby was left or lost for days. This morning I picked up a one and a half year old baby from the children's hospital. The kid was heavy, I'd guess about 30 lbs. The histologist released the body to me, a young guy who looks through microscopes all day.
Today a body of an old lady was leaking severely from her orifices. Another embalmer brought out a clear plastic screw about three inches long and literally screwed it into the anus. Then another one for the vagina. She explained to me that the reasons for the problem is that: 1) pressure from the innards and 2) she was not prepped thoroughly by the old geezer embalmer whom no one likes. Whatever the case, it was absolutely disgusting and hard to watch, but very interesting at the same time.
We are expected to become more and more busy in the coming weeks, as more people die in wintertime. It's been getting busier, especially at night.
They told me what happened, and the nurses were talking about a strange voice they heard earlier in the evening. Two of them heard the same thing and they were unnerved a bit. So we talked about that and how I've yet to hear anything in the mortuary late at night when I'm there by myself. They seemed intrigued with my job.
Another case from the ME: A taxi driver was shot in the head point blank. When I saw two large bullet holes in the skull of the man I expected to see larger exit wounds but I saw none. Next time at ME I asked about this case and one of the autopsy assistant said he remembered that one, and that what happened was that the bullet entered the head and exited out on the same side. The bullet took a U-turn. Strange but true, and why he got shot is anyone's guess.
Two Marine pilots who crashed in their aircrafts while training came in. The embalmer said the bodies were unrecognizable, totally mangled. Yet they were embalmed and casketed for ship out with an escort.
First one I took early in the morning with a very tall Marine escort. The soldier was rather stiff and dull, a little too serious compared to other escorts I've had ride along. Once on the tarmac at the airport, the family of the pilot walked down and witnessed their loved one being loaded onto the plane. It was sad to see in the side view mirror the teenage daughter crying. Otherwise it was really cool to drive under and around 737s on the tarmac, chatting with the airline crew.
Second one I took around noon a week later, and this time the escort met me at the airport. A Major, the escort was a very sweet guy, super humble and courteous. I really enjoyed talking with him while waiting out the delayed flight. He said to me, "I couldn't do what you do." I said I couldn't do what you do. There was no family on the tarmac this time, but as always, the escort saluted the casket as it was loaded onto the plane. We shook hands and parted ways.
Yesterday I saw a green decomposing baby in a body bag. I wondered how the baby was left or lost for days. This morning I picked up a one and a half year old baby from the children's hospital. The kid was heavy, I'd guess about 30 lbs. The histologist released the body to me, a young guy who looks through microscopes all day.
Today a body of an old lady was leaking severely from her orifices. Another embalmer brought out a clear plastic screw about three inches long and literally screwed it into the anus. Then another one for the vagina. She explained to me that the reasons for the problem is that: 1) pressure from the innards and 2) she was not prepped thoroughly by the old geezer embalmer whom no one likes. Whatever the case, it was absolutely disgusting and hard to watch, but very interesting at the same time.
We are expected to become more and more busy in the coming weeks, as more people die in wintertime. It's been getting busier, especially at night.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Come, Sweet Death
Last week another driver and I went on a house call where an old man was found dead. We drove up the driveway mentally preparing ourselves in case it was bad. The old man died on the toilet, naked, in mid-poop. Although visually bad, the smell wasn't as bad as we expected since he died just a day before.
The family requested that they wanted to see him one last time. I told them that we would get the body in a better position than where he was in the bathroom. So I covered him with a fuzzy green blanket over him and wrapped a white cloth sheet around his head, exposing his face while covering the plastic. Co-driver said I did a good job in presentation and I agreed.
We waited outside while the family, including teens and kids, said their goodbyes. This was a poor man's house in a low income neighborhood. For you car nuts out there, I noticed a clean black Integra Type R in the dirty dirt backyard. Pretty sweet looking ride. Family came out emotional and said they were ready. We loaded the body into the van and left, on our way to a hospice to pick up another old man. But I don't really remember the latter pick up.
Maybe it's because I notice them more these days, but there seems to be a higher number of young people committing suicides lately. A kid in his early twenties came in a couple of weeks ago. He apparently shot himself--in the chest. Another young guy I picked up from the ME had rope marks around his neck. What compelled these young and otherwise healthy guys to off themselves is a mystery to us. I just hope it's not over some girl. That would be pathetic.
A good looking woman around 30 years old was killed while jogging recently. She had rather large breasts. Her body had already been harvested by an organ company, and when the embalmer took her out of the bag and onto the table she hardly looked human. Her legs had been replaced by two blue PVC pipes, connecting her feet to her hips. Upon cutting the sutures to expose her thoracic cavity there was nothing inside, except for a pair of silicone implants under her breasts. Never seen that before.
Another driver, who has been working with this company for almost two years now, went to San Bernardino county Coroner's office to pick up a case. What he brought back in a thick yellow body bag was another first for me: A young man had died in a car fire. Everything was charred black except for his face. His legs and arms were burnt to a crisp, and his torso wasn't much better. His eyes and mouth were wide open and his fingers were burned down to short nubs. All we could imagine was that he was awake as he started to burn. This kind of death must be the worst way to go, I said. I think I would rather fall off a tall building.
Or drowning, since I know firsthand what that's like. Rather peaceful, from what I can remember of losing my inner tube at a river as a small child. I remember sinking down and things going black, going to sleep. I don't remember who rescued me or what happened after that. It's funny how as a kid I never really thought about how close I came to dying that day.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Die Hard
Couple of weeks ago the Asst. and I picked up a body at a hospital early in the morning. Upon opening the body bag we discovered that the man had a full erection. The hospital transport and the Asst. busted out laughing, pointing out the tent pitcher to me. Having never seen that before, I commented, "Well it is morning..." to which the guys laughed even harder. The embalmers in our prep room, who are mostly women, got a chuckle out of the poor bonered bastard as well, and said that most likely he has a inflatable pump inside his member. When I die I hope I don't die like this...
The Asst. broke his ankle playing beach volleyball over Labor Day weekend. Unable to walk without crutches, I took over his usual on-call duties last week. Money!
One of the newer drivers and I went on a house call. The removal was normal, nothing unusual. But the new guy's attitude over the past few weeks has declined, and I watched him as we worked. Once we got back to the mortuary I shelved the body, hoping he would offer more help than just standing there. Not to be. So for the rest of the week I only called him when absolutely necessary.
This job is easy once you get over the fact that you're working with dead bodies. In our prep room, no one is expected to work like a slave and everyone is helpful. But some drivers think they're entitled to easy on-call money at night. The Asst. and I both agree that it is a privilege to earn extra income and those who pout and do not work hard when called upon do not deserve the opportunity.
Anyway........
A Marine sargent died while riding his motorcycle. His body was prepped and put in a casket, to be shipped out at the airport early morning this week. Another sargent came to escort me and the casket. We loaded the hearse and drove to the airport cargo area. In full dress and gloves, the young female sargent asked about what I do, telling me that she is interested in this work once she gets out of the military in four years. I gave her the rundown, basically a condensed version of this blog. She was cute I must say.
After unloading the casket, I drove her to the passenger terminal. Must've been quite a sight for other travelers, a hearse pulling up to the curb and out comes a military person. She was to ride on the same plane as the deceased, escorting the body the entire trip across the country. Driving back to the mortuary I gunned the V8 Cadillac hearse. This heavy thing is fast and handles very well. I'm tempted to do some donuts with the traction control off...
The Asst. and I did a few on-calls together this week, even though his ankle is not yet healed. I commend his effort, limping and all, I guess he needs the money. He has the athlete's mentality and is highly driven, but I told him that he cannot force his ankle to heal and that only rest will accelerate the process. After a few removals, he texted me that his ankle was badly swollen, so that was it for him that night.
The Asst. broke his ankle playing beach volleyball over Labor Day weekend. Unable to walk without crutches, I took over his usual on-call duties last week. Money!
One of the newer drivers and I went on a house call. The removal was normal, nothing unusual. But the new guy's attitude over the past few weeks has declined, and I watched him as we worked. Once we got back to the mortuary I shelved the body, hoping he would offer more help than just standing there. Not to be. So for the rest of the week I only called him when absolutely necessary.
This job is easy once you get over the fact that you're working with dead bodies. In our prep room, no one is expected to work like a slave and everyone is helpful. But some drivers think they're entitled to easy on-call money at night. The Asst. and I both agree that it is a privilege to earn extra income and those who pout and do not work hard when called upon do not deserve the opportunity.
Anyway........
A Marine sargent died while riding his motorcycle. His body was prepped and put in a casket, to be shipped out at the airport early morning this week. Another sargent came to escort me and the casket. We loaded the hearse and drove to the airport cargo area. In full dress and gloves, the young female sargent asked about what I do, telling me that she is interested in this work once she gets out of the military in four years. I gave her the rundown, basically a condensed version of this blog. She was cute I must say.
After unloading the casket, I drove her to the passenger terminal. Must've been quite a sight for other travelers, a hearse pulling up to the curb and out comes a military person. She was to ride on the same plane as the deceased, escorting the body the entire trip across the country. Driving back to the mortuary I gunned the V8 Cadillac hearse. This heavy thing is fast and handles very well. I'm tempted to do some donuts with the traction control off...
The Asst. and I did a few on-calls together this week, even though his ankle is not yet healed. I commend his effort, limping and all, I guess he needs the money. He has the athlete's mentality and is highly driven, but I told him that he cannot force his ankle to heal and that only rest will accelerate the process. After a few removals, he texted me that his ankle was badly swollen, so that was it for him that night.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
You are the sunshine of my life
Thurs. 1:00 am
I am trying something new tonight; On-call Monday and Wednesday, with plenty of sleep in between on Tuesday. So far so good, I feel pretty fresh. Just an hour ago the Asst. and I finished two pick ups, first an old woman at a nursing home and the second another old woman at her house. There was a large family at the house, and the son told me they were expecting this so all of her grandchildren came to stay with her for a couple of weeks.
A granddaughter told us, "This was a special woman. Magical. I know you guys hear that all the time but I want you to know how great she was. I want to ask you to please take extra care in taking her and treat her with the utmost dignity." We will, I promise. And everyone else at the mortuary will, too, I replied.
She started to tear up. "So do you guys do this every day?" Yes, this is what we do...
There was a moment of silence as she and I looked at each other. The Asst. interrupted this moment to get back to the task at hand, and we wrapped up grandma in a sheet and loaded her onto the gurney. As we were leaving the granddaughter gave hugs to both of us. That was nice, usually people keep their distance from those of us taking away their loved ones. One time a woman jumped back from me when I leaned in too close.
Now here's some really sad stuff. The other night we went to a house where a young woman passed away. She died from cancer. On the table in the hallway upstairs were pictures of this young pretty gal, including wedding pictures. She and her husband got married just a year ago, her mother-in-law told me, and based on those pictures, one would never suspect any type of serious illness in her future.
The girl was on her bed, all skin and bones, with a buzzed head. Her husband was there but when I shook his hand I realized he really wasn't there. They had a child together, and I hope he thinks of his child in case he has any thoughts of suicide. In my eight months on this job, that is a legitimate concern. We carried her downstairs on a stretcher and placed her on the gurney. The family gathered around and cried one last time. The Asst. and I just stood outside waiting. Once back on the road we talked about this pick up. Someone so young who gets struck by cancer...
Earlier today, another driver and I went to go pick up a baby at a house. The Asst. told us to be extra careful and respectful. The boy was less than a year old and the parents took him out of hospice care so he can spend his last days at home. What condition the boy had is unknown to us. Upon entering the house, we saw the mother holding her son on her chest, now pale and lifeless, as if he were taking a nap after a meal. That sight shocked me for a moment, then I understood that I'd probably do the same if I had a child.
We sat down to get signatures from the father, who was also barely holding it together. They asked if they can come to the mortuary today. I said I wasn't sure but that I'll ask the arranger to call them as soon as we get back. We brought in white sheets from the van, unfolded them on the ottoman, placed the little body on them and folded them over. Then I gently lifted the body and handed him to my associate. "Can we walk with you to your car?" the parents asked. Of course you can, I said. We walked out the door slowly, placed the baby on the floor of the van between the front seats. When I turned around to say goodbye, both parents were crying. They said thank you, I said again I'm sorry for your loss, then we left.
Fuck. Once in a while we make house calls that just breaks your heart. As much as I try to stay detached from strangers, I can't help but get emotional when I get into such sad situations. It's like seeing a really sad movie, except this is not a movie; it's really happening. I can't help but imagine what that young couple must be going through. From joy of bringing in a new life into this world then seeing that life suffer and die, all in one year. We drove away from this house saddened from what we just witnessed.
The nurse at the facility tonight said she's had better days. I told her about the baby and his parents and told her no matter how bad her day was, it can't be as bad as that, and the nurse agreed.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Real heroes don't come home
Today, for the second time in a week, I drove the company hearse to pick up another Navy Seal who was killed in Afghanistan while aboard the now-famous Chinook chopper incident. This time we picked up from the Naval Air Base. I drove onto the tarmac and waited for the charter jet to land while going over details with the Assistant who rode with me and the Patriot Guard, a group of motorcycle riding veterans who escort hearses on such occasions.
As we waited, the family of the soldier walked out of the building and dozens of other Navy Seals lined up in anticipation of the jet. Motorcycles lined up as well, then the Ceremonial Guard (six Navy personnel who carry caskets from the jet to the hearse) formed in front. There were many Navy officers on hand. When the jet landed and came to a stop some distance in front of the family, I was signaled to drive around the jet and park in front of it, back hatch facing the jet.
The veterans lined up between the jet and the hearse holding large flags in salute. Slowly, the pilots brought down the casket, then the Ceremonial Guard ceremoniously lifted the casket onto our church truck. Then they backed off, giving family time to come forward and touch the casket. The family declined the invitation. During all of this, the Asst. and I stood by our hearse, in our suits, watching.
The Ceremonial Guard then carried the casket into the hearse, stood back in salute as I drove behind the motorcycles up front. With the soldier's family right behind us, we were escorted by the Navy Police out of the Base. It's a big place, and soldiers we passed all saluted their fallen comrade as we drove by.
Once out onto civilian roads, many families lined the streets, waving flags and saluting the hearse. Police officers lined up at intersections, saluting as well. I felt so honored to be the one to drive this soldier. I felt like I was in a parade, but instead of looking and waving back at people I just looked straight ahead, as this was not about me, but about a brave young man who served his country and lost his life for it.
It was a very nice escort to the cemetery. We went through a rather ghetto part of town and there was some traffic on the freeway but overall it was smooth. Upon entering the cemetery, we broke away from the caravan and parked next to the chapel. Veterans in biker clothes came to unload the casket, and I handed out white gloves to them. The family walked past me to witness the unloading. I wonder how they feel, to get that phone call, to learn that their son won't be coming home alive.
After the veterans dispersed, I parked the hearse in the garage and told coworkers about the experience. I told the Asst. that I'd be happy to do this once a week. I think I should polish my shoes for next time, as every soldier we saw had brilliantly shined shoes. To those who serve in the armed forces--thank you.
As we waited, the family of the soldier walked out of the building and dozens of other Navy Seals lined up in anticipation of the jet. Motorcycles lined up as well, then the Ceremonial Guard (six Navy personnel who carry caskets from the jet to the hearse) formed in front. There were many Navy officers on hand. When the jet landed and came to a stop some distance in front of the family, I was signaled to drive around the jet and park in front of it, back hatch facing the jet.
The veterans lined up between the jet and the hearse holding large flags in salute. Slowly, the pilots brought down the casket, then the Ceremonial Guard ceremoniously lifted the casket onto our church truck. Then they backed off, giving family time to come forward and touch the casket. The family declined the invitation. During all of this, the Asst. and I stood by our hearse, in our suits, watching.
The Ceremonial Guard then carried the casket into the hearse, stood back in salute as I drove behind the motorcycles up front. With the soldier's family right behind us, we were escorted by the Navy Police out of the Base. It's a big place, and soldiers we passed all saluted their fallen comrade as we drove by.
Once out onto civilian roads, many families lined the streets, waving flags and saluting the hearse. Police officers lined up at intersections, saluting as well. I felt so honored to be the one to drive this soldier. I felt like I was in a parade, but instead of looking and waving back at people I just looked straight ahead, as this was not about me, but about a brave young man who served his country and lost his life for it.
It was a very nice escort to the cemetery. We went through a rather ghetto part of town and there was some traffic on the freeway but overall it was smooth. Upon entering the cemetery, we broke away from the caravan and parked next to the chapel. Veterans in biker clothes came to unload the casket, and I handed out white gloves to them. The family walked past me to witness the unloading. I wonder how they feel, to get that phone call, to learn that their son won't be coming home alive.
After the veterans dispersed, I parked the hearse in the garage and told coworkers about the experience. I told the Asst. that I'd be happy to do this once a week. I think I should polish my shoes for next time, as every soldier we saw had brilliantly shined shoes. To those who serve in the armed forces--thank you.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Ticket to ride
8:30pm
On-call again tonight. Last week I was on-call every night. Last Monday I did my personal best 13 pick ups, ten of them with the Assistant. From 8 pm to 8 am I worked non-stop, stopping by drive-thrus twice to eat on the road. But the next night I was exhausted, but luckily I only missed a couple of calls. I saved some money on gas since my car was at work all week.
Last Wednesday night, every next of kin was highly emotional. There was one lady whose mother had passed, and she was very distraught. She was crying like a little girl and I found myself trying to console her, rubbing her shoulder. I wanted to hug her but I didn't, and looking back I should have. She was telling us how her large family came to say goodbye and that she hadn't had any time alone with her yet. I told her she can call us in the morning, or whenever she felt ready for us to pick up her mother, and she accepted. The next day, a transport company that my company has a contract with went for the pick up.
Last night I did nine, which is still very good. With so many done so quickly it's nearly impossible to remember details. Bang bang, in and out, and no looking back. Bring 'em in, tag 'em, then split, since time is money at night.
So far it's been quiet tonight, I may get a nap in for a bit.
Three weeks ago we went to the Emergency Room for a night pick-up. Walking in the room where an old man had passed, his daughter and I made eye contact for a good while. She asked finally, "Have we met before? I feel like I know you." I replied the same and when I told her about the nursing home I drove for it hit her: "Now I remember! You drove my father and I to a doctor's appointment once. Do you remember? You even let me sit in the front seat! How are you?"
Note: I usually never let anyone other than coworkers sit up front, as I saw patients and emotional family members as a potential threat to safety. Specifically, my safety.
I vaguely remembered the day she talked about, but I replied, "Yes! How are you? (Dumb question under the circumstances) It's nice to see you again." She told me to look at her father's face and I did, and told her that yeah, I remember Mr. so-and-so. Now that I think about it, I remember having difficulty strapping him in the van because he was so tall and his legs were extended straight out from his wheelchair.
Today me and the newer driver went to go pick up an old lady. There was a police car out front and I said to my co-driver, "Uh oh, that's not a good sign." It turned out that the granddaughter of the woman was an EMT, in a similar uniform of her policeman friend who came by to pay his respects. They were waiting for a Catholic priest to arrive and asked if we can wait. The young EMT was so nice it was an easy decision for us to wait with her.
Emergency Medical Technicians save lives for peanuts. While not qualified to do fully what Paramedics do, EMTs are sometimes called upon to administer first aid at a scene. How they make less money than those who work at Starbucks is beyond me. She was emotional but held it together very well, I thought.
I still like everyone I work with, but there is one grumpy old embalmer that bothers me. He is old-school, meaning he is used to working alone in a mom and pop mortuary. He has had run-ins with just about everyone, including management. He is an old dog who can't adapt to working with others, and in my opinion, a passive-aggressive weasel who is quick to blame others to save his own ass. I have no respect for such people. I'm hoping he leaves on his own or gets canned, since no one can stand the old cranky bastard.
We have another veteran embalmer, a former pro baseball player and Highway Patrolman. He is awesome and as humble as can be. He tells us stories of his cop days, and of meeting Ty Cobb and Mickey Mantle. And absolutely no attitude or some sense of entitlement because he's been in the business for as long as he has.
Back to my job, there was another suicide case last week from the ME. A small caliber bullet through the temple and out the other side of the head that left a small exit wound. The cool old embalmer said that even a .22 can go through the head like that. I read the brief suicide note, and in essence he was getting back at his ex, while realizing there was something wrong with himself mentally. Our supervisor said to me, "I'm all for mentally ill people to commit suicide." That statement surprised me for a moment. Then she explained, "It's better they take themselves out before taking out someone else." Makes sense.
This past weekend I got stopped for speeding in my own car, trying to make it up north to see my friend's baby daughter's baptism. Then I almost touched fenders at speed with an inattentive driver who drove the same car as mine. Then I went to the wrong address. The best driver I know had a thick slice of humble pie. The ticket won't be cheap but I'm okay with it. I've gotten away with speeding more times than I can count so it was only a matter of time.
On-call again tonight. Last week I was on-call every night. Last Monday I did my personal best 13 pick ups, ten of them with the Assistant. From 8 pm to 8 am I worked non-stop, stopping by drive-thrus twice to eat on the road. But the next night I was exhausted, but luckily I only missed a couple of calls. I saved some money on gas since my car was at work all week.
Last Wednesday night, every next of kin was highly emotional. There was one lady whose mother had passed, and she was very distraught. She was crying like a little girl and I found myself trying to console her, rubbing her shoulder. I wanted to hug her but I didn't, and looking back I should have. She was telling us how her large family came to say goodbye and that she hadn't had any time alone with her yet. I told her she can call us in the morning, or whenever she felt ready for us to pick up her mother, and she accepted. The next day, a transport company that my company has a contract with went for the pick up.
Last night I did nine, which is still very good. With so many done so quickly it's nearly impossible to remember details. Bang bang, in and out, and no looking back. Bring 'em in, tag 'em, then split, since time is money at night.
So far it's been quiet tonight, I may get a nap in for a bit.
Three weeks ago we went to the Emergency Room for a night pick-up. Walking in the room where an old man had passed, his daughter and I made eye contact for a good while. She asked finally, "Have we met before? I feel like I know you." I replied the same and when I told her about the nursing home I drove for it hit her: "Now I remember! You drove my father and I to a doctor's appointment once. Do you remember? You even let me sit in the front seat! How are you?"
Note: I usually never let anyone other than coworkers sit up front, as I saw patients and emotional family members as a potential threat to safety. Specifically, my safety.
I vaguely remembered the day she talked about, but I replied, "Yes! How are you? (Dumb question under the circumstances) It's nice to see you again." She told me to look at her father's face and I did, and told her that yeah, I remember Mr. so-and-so. Now that I think about it, I remember having difficulty strapping him in the van because he was so tall and his legs were extended straight out from his wheelchair.
Today me and the newer driver went to go pick up an old lady. There was a police car out front and I said to my co-driver, "Uh oh, that's not a good sign." It turned out that the granddaughter of the woman was an EMT, in a similar uniform of her policeman friend who came by to pay his respects. They were waiting for a Catholic priest to arrive and asked if we can wait. The young EMT was so nice it was an easy decision for us to wait with her.
Emergency Medical Technicians save lives for peanuts. While not qualified to do fully what Paramedics do, EMTs are sometimes called upon to administer first aid at a scene. How they make less money than those who work at Starbucks is beyond me. She was emotional but held it together very well, I thought.
I still like everyone I work with, but there is one grumpy old embalmer that bothers me. He is old-school, meaning he is used to working alone in a mom and pop mortuary. He has had run-ins with just about everyone, including management. He is an old dog who can't adapt to working with others, and in my opinion, a passive-aggressive weasel who is quick to blame others to save his own ass. I have no respect for such people. I'm hoping he leaves on his own or gets canned, since no one can stand the old cranky bastard.
We have another veteran embalmer, a former pro baseball player and Highway Patrolman. He is awesome and as humble as can be. He tells us stories of his cop days, and of meeting Ty Cobb and Mickey Mantle. And absolutely no attitude or some sense of entitlement because he's been in the business for as long as he has.
Back to my job, there was another suicide case last week from the ME. A small caliber bullet through the temple and out the other side of the head that left a small exit wound. The cool old embalmer said that even a .22 can go through the head like that. I read the brief suicide note, and in essence he was getting back at his ex, while realizing there was something wrong with himself mentally. Our supervisor said to me, "I'm all for mentally ill people to commit suicide." That statement surprised me for a moment. Then she explained, "It's better they take themselves out before taking out someone else." Makes sense.
This past weekend I got stopped for speeding in my own car, trying to make it up north to see my friend's baby daughter's baptism. Then I almost touched fenders at speed with an inattentive driver who drove the same car as mine. Then I went to the wrong address. The best driver I know had a thick slice of humble pie. The ticket won't be cheap but I'm okay with it. I've gotten away with speeding more times than I can count so it was only a matter of time.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Soon to die near you...
I apologize for not posting recently. Ironically, I've been working a lot and I've been too tired to type out all the things I've seen. I promise though--I will post some new shit soon.
Or, as in this past week, I saw two women in the cooler whom I knew from the nursing home I worked at. One was old, a woman with dementia and a scooter with incredible hand strength and a great sense of humor. A little old lady who told me I was an excellent driver. I used to tell her all the time, "Hey granny! Slow down or you'll run over somebody!"
The other, a fairly young woman whom I knew had problems and was extremely lonely. I felt sad for the latter. She was a kind soul who--in my opinion--lost her family and just wanted to be loved and accepted.
Isn't that what we all want? I was sad to see her cold, lifeless face after I decided to confirm whether it was really her or not after seeing her name in the log book. I really hope she found peace in her last moments.
That makes six old people I knew who came in. I'll write about #4 soon.
In the meantime, here's another tune I would like to be heard in case I die. Sounds macabre? One of my favorites from JSB:
Or, as in this past week, I saw two women in the cooler whom I knew from the nursing home I worked at. One was old, a woman with dementia and a scooter with incredible hand strength and a great sense of humor. A little old lady who told me I was an excellent driver. I used to tell her all the time, "Hey granny! Slow down or you'll run over somebody!"
The other, a fairly young woman whom I knew had problems and was extremely lonely. I felt sad for the latter. She was a kind soul who--in my opinion--lost her family and just wanted to be loved and accepted.
Isn't that what we all want? I was sad to see her cold, lifeless face after I decided to confirm whether it was really her or not after seeing her name in the log book. I really hope she found peace in her last moments.
That makes six old people I knew who came in. I'll write about #4 soon.
In the meantime, here's another tune I would like to be heard in case I die. Sounds macabre? One of my favorites from JSB:
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
This death has no title
Monday 9:00 pm
A trailer trash looking female driver stopped by to pick up the gangrene lady that day. I helped her locate the body in the cooler and open up the bag and ID the body. It smelled just as foul as it did the day before.
Today the family of the old man the Assistant and I picked up last week had their service. Turns out he and I were the only ones available for the casket service, so both of us stood in the chapel and carried the body into a very expensive casket. I wondered what the family thought, seeing the two of us again. I ran into the granddaughter of the man in the hallway later in the day and we chatted a bit. She asked if I get scared doing my job. I said I used to be but I'm better at it now. She gave me her phone number in case I want to chat again in the future. Now there's a first for me, getting digits in a funeral home.
The Asst. and I made some pick ups during the day since he wanted to get away from the mortuary for a while. It was odd driving with him during daylight since we usually ride together at night.
Tuesday 3:00 am
Just got back from driving all around picking up four decedents. First up was a residential in a ghetto ass part of town. There was a car with no wheels in front of the house; that kind of ghetto. A 200+lbs. woman died, presumably after a long illness. There were family around and among them was a young girl who asked me when I came in:
"Are you going to take my prize?" Yes, I'm afraid so, we're here to take grandma.
"Did she die?" Yes, she passed away.
Perhaps I could've put it better but I believe in being straight with kids. When taking the body out through the living room in front of everyone, the little girl asked one last time:
"Will you take good care of her?" Yes, we will. I promise.
Next up was a hospital call up north. From what I could tell, this was a cancer patient. It was a quick pick up. So quick that we decided to stop by In N Out for a bite.
Next was another residential call. Another long-term illness and the mother of the woman had to make the phone call. I imagine no matter how old you get, your child is still your baby. The mom was upset, seeming angry. You never know how people deal with their grief. No doubt she had valiantly taken care of her adult daughter for a long time. She fought back tears while trying to deal with us, I feel for her.
I'm happy to let the Assistant do all the talking with families. He's rather good at it. I'm content being Silent Bob, driving while Jay takes phone calls and tells me crazy stories of his younger days.
Last one was at nursing facility where an old man died. Two women were in the room, perhaps his wife and daughter. One was crying and the other was listening to the Assistant on what to expect next. We wrapped it up quick and left.
It was a lot of time driving but I don't mind. Roads are smooth and empty and I can cruise at a comfortable speed while maintaining my smooth nursing home driving style. I think the Assistant and I make a good team at night. We'll see what happens tonight.
A trailer trash looking female driver stopped by to pick up the gangrene lady that day. I helped her locate the body in the cooler and open up the bag and ID the body. It smelled just as foul as it did the day before.
Today the family of the old man the Assistant and I picked up last week had their service. Turns out he and I were the only ones available for the casket service, so both of us stood in the chapel and carried the body into a very expensive casket. I wondered what the family thought, seeing the two of us again. I ran into the granddaughter of the man in the hallway later in the day and we chatted a bit. She asked if I get scared doing my job. I said I used to be but I'm better at it now. She gave me her phone number in case I want to chat again in the future. Now there's a first for me, getting digits in a funeral home.
The Asst. and I made some pick ups during the day since he wanted to get away from the mortuary for a while. It was odd driving with him during daylight since we usually ride together at night.
Tuesday 3:00 am
Just got back from driving all around picking up four decedents. First up was a residential in a ghetto ass part of town. There was a car with no wheels in front of the house; that kind of ghetto. A 200+lbs. woman died, presumably after a long illness. There were family around and among them was a young girl who asked me when I came in:
"Are you going to take my prize?" Yes, I'm afraid so, we're here to take grandma.
"Did she die?" Yes, she passed away.
Perhaps I could've put it better but I believe in being straight with kids. When taking the body out through the living room in front of everyone, the little girl asked one last time:
"Will you take good care of her?" Yes, we will. I promise.
Next up was a hospital call up north. From what I could tell, this was a cancer patient. It was a quick pick up. So quick that we decided to stop by In N Out for a bite.
Next was another residential call. Another long-term illness and the mother of the woman had to make the phone call. I imagine no matter how old you get, your child is still your baby. The mom was upset, seeming angry. You never know how people deal with their grief. No doubt she had valiantly taken care of her adult daughter for a long time. She fought back tears while trying to deal with us, I feel for her.
I'm happy to let the Assistant do all the talking with families. He's rather good at it. I'm content being Silent Bob, driving while Jay takes phone calls and tells me crazy stories of his younger days.
Last one was at nursing facility where an old man died. Two women were in the room, perhaps his wife and daughter. One was crying and the other was listening to the Assistant on what to expect next. We wrapped it up quick and left.
It was a lot of time driving but I don't mind. Roads are smooth and empty and I can cruise at a comfortable speed while maintaining my smooth nursing home driving style. I think the Assistant and I make a good team at night. We'll see what happens tonight.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Eau de Gangrene
Tonight was a good one and it may not be over yet. I've gotten used to staying up late Mondays and Tuesdays, or should I say I handle better being tired on Wednesdays. Wednesdays are easy since there are four or five of us drivers.
The Assistant and I got started around 9 tonight. I picked up a body at a small hospital. The main entrance was closed so I entered through the ER. The nurse called the House Supervisor down, an old lady I recognized and we went up to her office.
She had no record of the decedent. She asked if the patient was from the sanitarium next door. I said I didn't think so, I thought the body was in the morgue. I said the patient expired today and she called ER to ask about any deaths today. Nurse replied negative, and we were now wondering whether the body was here or not.
She called security and asked them to physically check the morgue, and voila, five minutes later security confirmed the decedent. We found the paperwork and I quickly scooped up the body and met up with the Assistant at the mortuary. One of the cosmeticians was working late by herself. She is a nice gal but loves to milk the clock.
Before going on a residential call, we were hungry so we stopped by McDonald's for a bite. Big Mac tasted delicious, and we chowed down right in the van, watching shady individuals in the parking lot in this ghetto part of town.
Onto the house call. An old man died. We were greeted by a large family inside. They were Buddhist, so they asked us to place a music player next to the head of grandpa and this music was supposed to play for days until the service much like the one I attended a couple weeks ago.
The music is loud enough to be heard in the next room, a folk song in a foreign language with simple cadences, repeating again and again. I mentioned to the Asst. that I'm going to hear this song in my sleep tonight as I drove away from the house.
Next up was a middle-aged woman from the hospital. Nothing unusual, we just loaded her quickly and were on our way back to the mortuary when the phone rang for a pick-up on the way back.
It was another small hospital, one without a morgue so we went up to the room. The body of a woman had a rotten smell, strong enough for us to put on masks. The Asst. said, "You know what that smell is? It's gangrene." I almost didn't want to know, since now the funk has a name. The woman's legs looked like roasted Poblano chilis, blackened by decomposition while she was still alive. I felt nauseated from the odor, so in the elevator with the body I held my breath. "Fucking stinks bro," the Asst. said. Gross.
We got back to the mortuary at midnight only to find the cosmetician still milking the clock. We shoved everyone into the cooler and parted ways for the night, waiting for another possible call later. I should rest my eyes, it's almost 3 am.
The Assistant and I got started around 9 tonight. I picked up a body at a small hospital. The main entrance was closed so I entered through the ER. The nurse called the House Supervisor down, an old lady I recognized and we went up to her office.
She had no record of the decedent. She asked if the patient was from the sanitarium next door. I said I didn't think so, I thought the body was in the morgue. I said the patient expired today and she called ER to ask about any deaths today. Nurse replied negative, and we were now wondering whether the body was here or not.
She called security and asked them to physically check the morgue, and voila, five minutes later security confirmed the decedent. We found the paperwork and I quickly scooped up the body and met up with the Assistant at the mortuary. One of the cosmeticians was working late by herself. She is a nice gal but loves to milk the clock.
Before going on a residential call, we were hungry so we stopped by McDonald's for a bite. Big Mac tasted delicious, and we chowed down right in the van, watching shady individuals in the parking lot in this ghetto part of town.
Onto the house call. An old man died. We were greeted by a large family inside. They were Buddhist, so they asked us to place a music player next to the head of grandpa and this music was supposed to play for days until the service much like the one I attended a couple weeks ago.
The music is loud enough to be heard in the next room, a folk song in a foreign language with simple cadences, repeating again and again. I mentioned to the Asst. that I'm going to hear this song in my sleep tonight as I drove away from the house.
Next up was a middle-aged woman from the hospital. Nothing unusual, we just loaded her quickly and were on our way back to the mortuary when the phone rang for a pick-up on the way back.
It was another small hospital, one without a morgue so we went up to the room. The body of a woman had a rotten smell, strong enough for us to put on masks. The Asst. said, "You know what that smell is? It's gangrene." I almost didn't want to know, since now the funk has a name. The woman's legs looked like roasted Poblano chilis, blackened by decomposition while she was still alive. I felt nauseated from the odor, so in the elevator with the body I held my breath. "Fucking stinks bro," the Asst. said. Gross.
We got back to the mortuary at midnight only to find the cosmetician still milking the clock. We shoved everyone into the cooler and parted ways for the night, waiting for another possible call later. I should rest my eyes, it's almost 3 am.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Hot & Sticky
3:00 am
I was fortunate enough to have had 4th of July off. Hope you had a great holiday too. I was going to ask for it off last week but the Supervisor came up to me one day and told me to enjoy the holiday. I'd like to think it's because I'm a good employee and an unselfish coworker.
After a good sweaty run after work I was on-call tonight. The Assistant and I had to really earn our pay earlier, removing large bodies and sweating in our dress shirts. Three consecutive dead people over 200 lbs. Good thing the Asst. is an athlete who is in great shape.
First up was a home removal in a trailer park. Paramedics unsuccessfully tried to save the obese old lady on the floor and left her there. We collapsed the gurney and lifted her onto it and carefully carried her down a few stairs. The family members were quite large as well and there was food all over the place...
Second was a hospice call. We were told this one had Hepatitis C so we were careful. The nurse gave us a box containing an urn for the man's ashes after cremation.
A word about cremation: It's not really ashes you get in an urn. In the giant furnace called a retort, everything burns away except bones. The crematory operator then scrapes up the bones and grinds them in a giant grinder, much like a coffee grinder. What remains is ground bone the consistency of coarse sand. So next time you see an urn on a mantle at a party you can explain what's really inside.
Third case was inland. It was hot and humid, and mosquitoes all over the place. A big man died upstairs in his condo, another failed paramedic resuscitation. There were many family members downstairs. The man's daughter happened to be a nurse at a hospice but she couldn't help but be emotional and I can't blame her. At the request of the family we removed the trachea tube so they can see him one last time. We then waited outside fighting off very aggressive mosquitoes.
This situation was just like the Death Breath Lady. We brought up the stretcher and stood him up and we brought him down one step at a time. After some help from a big family member we said goodbye and jumped in the van, blasted the a/c then left, both of us sweating profusely.
After shelving the bodies we went to our respective homes. After midnight the Asst. called, a woman died in ICU of a hospital very close to me. So we met up in the loading dock and went upstairs looking for the ICU and expecting to see family of the deceased.
There was no family. This happens often at hospitals and nursing homes, where the nurses blatantly lie to the mortuary in hopes of moving out the body quicker. It's always, "Oh they just left...." Riiiight.
I was fortunate enough to have had 4th of July off. Hope you had a great holiday too. I was going to ask for it off last week but the Supervisor came up to me one day and told me to enjoy the holiday. I'd like to think it's because I'm a good employee and an unselfish coworker.
After a good sweaty run after work I was on-call tonight. The Assistant and I had to really earn our pay earlier, removing large bodies and sweating in our dress shirts. Three consecutive dead people over 200 lbs. Good thing the Asst. is an athlete who is in great shape.
First up was a home removal in a trailer park. Paramedics unsuccessfully tried to save the obese old lady on the floor and left her there. We collapsed the gurney and lifted her onto it and carefully carried her down a few stairs. The family members were quite large as well and there was food all over the place...
Second was a hospice call. We were told this one had Hepatitis C so we were careful. The nurse gave us a box containing an urn for the man's ashes after cremation.
A word about cremation: It's not really ashes you get in an urn. In the giant furnace called a retort, everything burns away except bones. The crematory operator then scrapes up the bones and grinds them in a giant grinder, much like a coffee grinder. What remains is ground bone the consistency of coarse sand. So next time you see an urn on a mantle at a party you can explain what's really inside.
Third case was inland. It was hot and humid, and mosquitoes all over the place. A big man died upstairs in his condo, another failed paramedic resuscitation. There were many family members downstairs. The man's daughter happened to be a nurse at a hospice but she couldn't help but be emotional and I can't blame her. At the request of the family we removed the trachea tube so they can see him one last time. We then waited outside fighting off very aggressive mosquitoes.
This situation was just like the Death Breath Lady. We brought up the stretcher and stood him up and we brought him down one step at a time. After some help from a big family member we said goodbye and jumped in the van, blasted the a/c then left, both of us sweating profusely.
After shelving the bodies we went to our respective homes. After midnight the Asst. called, a woman died in ICU of a hospital very close to me. So we met up in the loading dock and went upstairs looking for the ICU and expecting to see family of the deceased.
There was no family. This happens often at hospitals and nursing homes, where the nurses blatantly lie to the mortuary in hopes of moving out the body quicker. It's always, "Oh they just left...." Riiiight.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Another week in the books
Happy Friday. Yesterday I attended my first Buddhist funeral service at another mortuary in their chapel. My best guess on the language spoken by the monks was Vietnamese. Co-driver and I brought the old lady on a gurney and part of the ceremony was for us to carry the body into the casket. We didn't stick around for the end of the service, but I was told these services can go for three days.
This week a military casket came in containing the remains of a fighter pilot who was MIA in Vietnam since the 70's. Upon opening the casket to ID the body, we discovered that there was no body but just his uniform. Presumably there were bone fragments inside. Apparently he died a long time ago and his bones were discovered and identified almost 40 years later.
I'm having a hard time remembering cases I picked up. Perhaps it's age or lack of sleep, or because many cases (homes, morgues) are so similar. And it's not like I have time to study the people who died.
Yesterday we picked up the guy who murdered his g/f and her kids. He jumped to his death, the coward. The body of the father who killed his own kids was still here and a coworker joked that we should put these bodies together in a demeaning position. Such is mortuary humor I guess.
Another driver was hired and he's been riding with me. His van driving skills is below par so I hope he will improve in that area before he kills somebody. He's very knowledgeable about all the places to eat around town, however. To me that means he's lazy, since lazy people are highly diligent when it comes to food.
This week a military casket came in containing the remains of a fighter pilot who was MIA in Vietnam since the 70's. Upon opening the casket to ID the body, we discovered that there was no body but just his uniform. Presumably there were bone fragments inside. Apparently he died a long time ago and his bones were discovered and identified almost 40 years later.
I'm having a hard time remembering cases I picked up. Perhaps it's age or lack of sleep, or because many cases (homes, morgues) are so similar. And it's not like I have time to study the people who died.
Yesterday we picked up the guy who murdered his g/f and her kids. He jumped to his death, the coward. The body of the father who killed his own kids was still here and a coworker joked that we should put these bodies together in a demeaning position. Such is mortuary humor I guess.
Another driver was hired and he's been riding with me. His van driving skills is below par so I hope he will improve in that area before he kills somebody. He's very knowledgeable about all the places to eat around town, however. To me that means he's lazy, since lazy people are highly diligent when it comes to food.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Die Me A River
5:00 am
I drove early Wednesday morning to pick up a decedent close to where I grew up in a dinky privately-owned hospital. I checked the ID tag on the hairy leg on the extra-large body. The security and I waited a long time for the Lift Team but these guys just would not show, so we took care of it ourselves and placed the body on the gurney. Then I drove back to the mortuary in horrendous traffic for over two hours.
As I got closer into town, my lack of sleep this week started to catch up with me. It was hard to keep my focus and the traffic started to look like it's moving in slow motion. When it became difficult to decide whether I should pass a car or not I decided I should pull off the road.
I parked at a rest area, stepped out to stretch my legs and recoup. I still felt very tired so I decided the best thing to do was close my eyes and rest for a while. I took a 20 minute nap, reassessed myself and decided I was fit to drive, so I made it back to the mortuary.
The body I brought back turned out to be a nun who died in the ER. I assumed it was a man due to its size and hair but I was wrong. When the embalmer removed the brown habit (I thought they were pants) to expose her breast I finally realized that this was indeed a woman.
After work I agreed to be first on-call with the new driver as second. The new guy is a former EMT who can handle some gore so I wasn't worried. I went home, sat down and immediately fell asleep until the phone rang a half hour later.
An old woman died in her house and the police had come by. This should have raised a red flag in my mind but it didn't, so I called the young new guy and we met up to go on this call.
When we arrived there were a lot of family members in a small house. After getting signatures I asked to see the body. A young man led me to the kitchen, and what I saw jolted me awake: The woman died sitting on her walker, and she was covered with a red blanket. The smell was strong, and when I got closer I saw there was blood on the floor under the walker. She'd been dead for about a week.
We went outside to get the gurney. I told the new guy that this was going to be bad, not pretty at all. He seemed willing so we went back in. Two men stayed in the kitchen to watch despite my warning to them. Lifting the blanket off we saw the woman who died with her head tilted back, her arms over the sides. Her legs were extremely swollen. Fluids started to leak when I attached the ID tags around the large ankles, so we went to the van to look for something that can contain all the fluid. Luckily we found a body bag, so we wrapped the collapsed gurney with it and slid the gurney under the legs and thought about how to get the body on it.
We used a rolled up sheet to place around her back and under the arms so we can lift her off the walker. When my partner pulled on her legs as I lifted the body, the skin of the legs finally ruptured and gushed fluid all over the kitchen. I mean an absolute flood of opaque fluid, perhaps a gallon or more. We backed off to avoid being splashed, wondering what to do next. I asked for towels and sheets. The men, who were clearly disturbed by what they just saw (they were grandchildren of this woman), brought out all the towels they can find. They weren't enough to sop up the deluge.
We managed to get the body in the bag and tossed dripping towel after dripping towel into the bag along with the body. The stench of this body was strong and the fluids made it worse. Although not the foulest smell in my short career (greenies are, by far, the worst), it was still pretty fucking bad.
I should add that while we were struggling with the body, the family was loudly arguing and bickering in the living room. It was total chaos for a while. We loaded the body into the van, said parting words and got the hell out of there, both of us shocked by what we just went through.
Poor new guy. To his credit, he handled it well, and I assured him it doesn't get much worse than that. He said that at one point he thought he was going to vomit. I know that feeling very well. We came back to the mortuary, shelved the body, then doused the equipment with Cavicide (an anti-viral disinfectant). He said he was hungry before this call but not anymore, and that he needed to go home and take another shower.
I came home and promptly fell asleep. I was absolutely spent. Six hours later at 4 am the phone rang with a one-man call. It was a simple hospital ICU pick up so I did that one by myself.
Yesterday I went to ME to pick up two teenage siblings in another high profile case. The number of such cases involving parents and their children this year is very disturbing. I wish I could elaborate more but I don't think I should.
I declined any on-call work last night and that was the right decision. I came home after work and immediately went to bed at 5 pm. Woke up at midnight to finish up watching company videos on correct procedures in dealing with families, as required for new employees. Videos are lame but at least I'm getting paid for it.
It's been a very long week.
It's been a very long week.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Death in the Desert
1:30am
Drove out to butt-fuck boonies far away to pick up a case yesterday. On the first day of summer, it was 113 degrees in that county. Bodies decompose fast in this kind of weather, but luckily this body I got was only mildly turning green. It was a long drive back but there are some great scenery out there. California truly has all types of terrain.
Before that our new driver and I went to the children's hospital to pick up an infant. The baby was well over 10 lbs. and had it's organs and brain in separate zip-lock bags. The brain had been chopped up for sampling. It's amazing how big the human brain is, especially in a baby. The embalmer worked on the little one right away and now it is lying on a table.
Just about an hour ago I went to go pick up an old man in a nursing home. The entire extended family was there, at midnight, waiting for me to arrive. The man served in three wars, his son told me: WWII, Korea and Vietnam. To me that is impressive. The cooler is now completely full so all I could do was put the body on the table and shove it in the cooler. In a way I hope no more calls come in early this morning so I don't have to rearrange bodies.
Around 5 am today I will drive out of town two hours to pick up a body. It will be interesting seeing that the hospital will be close to where I grew up. I think I will put my radar detector to use for this one.
Drove out to butt-fuck boonies far away to pick up a case yesterday. On the first day of summer, it was 113 degrees in that county. Bodies decompose fast in this kind of weather, but luckily this body I got was only mildly turning green. It was a long drive back but there are some great scenery out there. California truly has all types of terrain.
Before that our new driver and I went to the children's hospital to pick up an infant. The baby was well over 10 lbs. and had it's organs and brain in separate zip-lock bags. The brain had been chopped up for sampling. It's amazing how big the human brain is, especially in a baby. The embalmer worked on the little one right away and now it is lying on a table.
Just about an hour ago I went to go pick up an old man in a nursing home. The entire extended family was there, at midnight, waiting for me to arrive. The man served in three wars, his son told me: WWII, Korea and Vietnam. To me that is impressive. The cooler is now completely full so all I could do was put the body on the table and shove it in the cooler. In a way I hope no more calls come in early this morning so I don't have to rearrange bodies.
Around 5 am today I will drive out of town two hours to pick up a body. It will be interesting seeing that the hospital will be close to where I grew up. I think I will put my radar detector to use for this one.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Ooh That Smell
Right after my run early Wednesday morning the phone rang, there was a residential pick up to go to. I met up with the Assistant at the house and found out he already talked to the family and all I had to do was help load the body on the gurney. I didn't speak a word and barely made eye contact with the family.
Right after that there was another on-call. A woman died at a fancy senior complex rather far away, so I went on that one solo. It turned out to be a place I have been to before; I dropped off an old lady there when I drove for a nursing home. Very nice place and nurses were nice.
Her body was still warm and she was dressed in her nightgown. As I prepared the gurney, the nurse told me that in the year that she worked there no one visited this old lady until this morning, when her family visited, and then she passed away. I wondered the circumstances of her family and what went through the woman's mind when she decided there was no longer any reason to hang on.
I have imagined what dying is like. Although I don't really know for sure, I imagine that at an old age I'd sort of let go and fall asleep realizing it's my turn to go. I'd be sad for my kids and their kids, but relieved that I'd no longer be a burden to them. When I can no longer support myself like dressing and eating, or even talking, I imagine that I'd be quite depressed, assuming my mind still worked. Resting In Peace would really seem comforting...
Anyway I drove back and shelved the body and went about the workday. There were three adult bodies from a sister mortuary up north and a fetus to be picked up from a local hospital, so I took the double-decker van.
Two of the three adults were severely decomposed. As usual, I had to open the bags and check their ID tags. Each smelled awful but in different ways. Their skin colors were different as well; one was dark green and the other dark purple. Neither were frozen so they reeked, times two. Driving back 45 minutes I had the windows rolled down and the a/c blasting. I wasn't too grossed out though, as I still sipped my coffee and chewed bubble gum. I got a little frustrated when I took a wrong turn and had to take a long detour.
I arrived at the local hospital for the baby. It was warm by this point and I knew I'd have to hold my breath when I came back to the van. I waited for a long time in the lobby until a nurse came to escort me upstairs. Same thing as last time, the little body was wrapped up inside the refrigerator. I checked and tagged the body and placed it in a plastic company bag, then walked out to the van.
I held my breath as long as I could as I rolled down the windows but I still got a few lungfuls of foul odor as I drove out of the complex. When I came back to the mortuary I learned that they would be cremated the next day so we left them out at room temperature with other cases.
Next morning I could smell those two bodies across the parking lot as they were being carted away. The entire building stunk to high hell and people were spraying Febreeze and Lysol all over the place.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Wacky Wednesday
It's 4:00 am. Picked up a few last night and a big leaky body this morning at two. Going to an empty mortuary at night alone still gives me chills down my back but I'm finding that I manage somehow.
Some nursing homes are filled with lazy bitches who don't want to help move a large body and the one this morning was like that. Nursing is hard work and a noble profession, but there are some nurses who need to make a change in their careers. I just don't understand how people stay in jobs they are clearly unhappy in.
The security guard lady said she used to do what I do and how she had fun doing it. I asked why she had a gun and she replied that it's because she responds to alarms.
I'm trying to adjust to irregular sleeping couple nights a week to make more money. So far the effort has been worth it financially.
On Monday I picked up a young girl in her twenties who got hit by a car while standing at the bus stop. Why don't they install one or two of those poles like those in parking lots to protect waiting riders at bus stops? I always think how vulnerable people are when I drive by bus stops. In the case of this girl, it was an elderly driver who lost control of her vehicle, and just like that...gone. Life is not fair.
Last week a young motorcyclist came in. His belongings were in the bag with the body, and his helmet top was crushed in. You can imagine how he died. Hopefully it was quick and painless.
One of the embalmers I work with is a pretty gal with a bubbly personality. I didn't expect good looking women to be in this field, yet she works on the tough cases, bodies all cut open, organs taken out, etc. She was working on another young girl with a hollow torso yesterday (ME case). I asked for her opinion on how she died, and she said based on the skin on her face she seemed like a drug addict who overdosed.
Coffee is kicking in nicely. I think I'll go for a run this morning before going to work.
Some nursing homes are filled with lazy bitches who don't want to help move a large body and the one this morning was like that. Nursing is hard work and a noble profession, but there are some nurses who need to make a change in their careers. I just don't understand how people stay in jobs they are clearly unhappy in.
The security guard lady said she used to do what I do and how she had fun doing it. I asked why she had a gun and she replied that it's because she responds to alarms.
I'm trying to adjust to irregular sleeping couple nights a week to make more money. So far the effort has been worth it financially.
On Monday I picked up a young girl in her twenties who got hit by a car while standing at the bus stop. Why don't they install one or two of those poles like those in parking lots to protect waiting riders at bus stops? I always think how vulnerable people are when I drive by bus stops. In the case of this girl, it was an elderly driver who lost control of her vehicle, and just like that...gone. Life is not fair.
Last week a young motorcyclist came in. His belongings were in the bag with the body, and his helmet top was crushed in. You can imagine how he died. Hopefully it was quick and painless.
One of the embalmers I work with is a pretty gal with a bubbly personality. I didn't expect good looking women to be in this field, yet she works on the tough cases, bodies all cut open, organs taken out, etc. She was working on another young girl with a hollow torso yesterday (ME case). I asked for her opinion on how she died, and she said based on the skin on her face she seemed like a drug addict who overdosed.
Coffee is kicking in nicely. I think I'll go for a run this morning before going to work.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
'Round Midnight
It's Tuesday night, doing the on-call again. Already picked up two bodies right after work today and despite getting little sleep last night I feel I can pick up a couple more tonight. I'm totally into watching episodes of History Channel's "Ancient Aliens" while I wait for the phone call. Knowing myself, once I fall asleep a fire truck siren may not wake me, so I'm making the best use of my time. I should practice some keyboard.
The Assistant and I picked up four elderly bodies from midnight to 2 am last night, easy money. He also likes to drive fast and we made a trek up north about 25 miles in no time. Two vans hauling ass, we must've looked like some government or criminal vehicles to those we blew by. I'm considering using my radar detector in the future.
Yesterday everyone wanted some breakfast so we all pitched in for some Mexican food down the street. I got rolled tacos and a quesadilla. This place has a very tasty salsa. It doesn't seem so odd to me now when we all talk about what to eat with all the bodies around. Today the Supervisor bought breakfast for all of us from the same place. I had a mediocre California burrito but I'm grateful for the free meal.
An entire small family came in this week after being murdered. It's a high profile case so I won't go into too much detail, but young children are among the victims. The suspect is apparently dead also. If there's a Hell I hope the son of a bitch gets what he deserves by Satan himself.
Again, I really like these people I work with. They each have their own quirks, and some are downright weird at times, but over all I like working with them. They are genuine and and I like that.
I don't really look at dead faces anymore. Not because I don't care, but because I'm not as curious as I used to be. I look for the ID tag and anything unusual but that's about it.
The embalmer worked on a newborn baby today, making small incisions to look for the artery in its arm. In the afternoon I picked up a solid 240 lbs. male from ME and rearranged bodies in the cooler. It's very full in there right now. They tell me in the winter bodies really pile up.
12:50 am:
I just picked up and shelved a four-month old baby from a nearby hospice. I've been there many times to pick up elderly bodies, I didn't know they care for the young as well. This baby had a heart defect and struggled his entire brief life. No family was present when I arrived.
I was apprehensive about going into the mortuary and the prep room by myself at night (I still have issues with this) but I figured if there is a ghost it would have mercy on me carrying a baby in. I'm thinking of calling it a night and getting some sleep now.
2:50 am:
Just as I finished the above, another call came in for the same place. Yep, the same place. I debated whether I really wanted to go but instead of wondering I decided to just go. An old man in his nineties passed.
As the security and I walked down the long basement corridors, he started to tell me how that place is haunted, that he sees stuff all the time. Like shadows, smells, even women in all white. He even told me he once saw red eyes looking at him from the trees outside at night. He said he sees things whenever he goes to a local haunted attraction that tourists go to. We stood outside in near darkness talking about this and shows like "Ghost Adventures" that I also like to watch:
I arrived at the mortuary, just kept my focus on the task at hand, shelved the body, then left. Nothing unusual to report. I think I'm really done for the night.
The Assistant and I picked up four elderly bodies from midnight to 2 am last night, easy money. He also likes to drive fast and we made a trek up north about 25 miles in no time. Two vans hauling ass, we must've looked like some government or criminal vehicles to those we blew by. I'm considering using my radar detector in the future.
Yesterday everyone wanted some breakfast so we all pitched in for some Mexican food down the street. I got rolled tacos and a quesadilla. This place has a very tasty salsa. It doesn't seem so odd to me now when we all talk about what to eat with all the bodies around. Today the Supervisor bought breakfast for all of us from the same place. I had a mediocre California burrito but I'm grateful for the free meal.
An entire small family came in this week after being murdered. It's a high profile case so I won't go into too much detail, but young children are among the victims. The suspect is apparently dead also. If there's a Hell I hope the son of a bitch gets what he deserves by Satan himself.
Again, I really like these people I work with. They each have their own quirks, and some are downright weird at times, but over all I like working with them. They are genuine and and I like that.
I don't really look at dead faces anymore. Not because I don't care, but because I'm not as curious as I used to be. I look for the ID tag and anything unusual but that's about it.
The embalmer worked on a newborn baby today, making small incisions to look for the artery in its arm. In the afternoon I picked up a solid 240 lbs. male from ME and rearranged bodies in the cooler. It's very full in there right now. They tell me in the winter bodies really pile up.
12:50 am:
I just picked up and shelved a four-month old baby from a nearby hospice. I've been there many times to pick up elderly bodies, I didn't know they care for the young as well. This baby had a heart defect and struggled his entire brief life. No family was present when I arrived.
I was apprehensive about going into the mortuary and the prep room by myself at night (I still have issues with this) but I figured if there is a ghost it would have mercy on me carrying a baby in. I'm thinking of calling it a night and getting some sleep now.
2:50 am:
Just as I finished the above, another call came in for the same place. Yep, the same place. I debated whether I really wanted to go but instead of wondering I decided to just go. An old man in his nineties passed.
As the security and I walked down the long basement corridors, he started to tell me how that place is haunted, that he sees stuff all the time. Like shadows, smells, even women in all white. He even told me he once saw red eyes looking at him from the trees outside at night. He said he sees things whenever he goes to a local haunted attraction that tourists go to. We stood outside in near darkness talking about this and shows like "Ghost Adventures" that I also like to watch:
I arrived at the mortuary, just kept my focus on the task at hand, shelved the body, then left. Nothing unusual to report. I think I'm really done for the night.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Only The Good Die Young
Doing the on-call thing tonight, we already picked up five bodies earlier. This time I drove while the Asst. answered calls and did paperwork and it worked out perfectly. I demonstrated for him my smooth, nursing home driving style. We went to go pick up a body at a house only to find out that the hospice nurse called our company by mistake. So no body, but we still get paid for driving out there.
While on the road tonight, I told the assistant about my latest TV obsession: "Ghost Adventures". He told me that in over 500 times he's been at the mortuary alone at night, he's yet to see a single ghost or anything out of the ordinary. Although he doesn't believe in such things, he told me about his late father who died ten years ago and how he would smell his father at random places months after his passing. I said maybe your dad misses you so he visits you on occasion and wants you to think of him without frightening you, and he conceded that may be possible.
This morning another driver and I did a house call in an affluent seniors' condo. Her adult children seemed rather happy about it all, and the driver said to me they must have a nice inheritance coming their way. After seeing the place and learning that the woman had pre-arranged for the inevitable, I thought to myself that he may be right.
Our mortuary has a double-decker van that can carry up to four bodies at a time and I used it today to pick up three bodies from ME. The top "shelf" goes up and down via electric motor and is useful on busy days. This is the van we drove tonight and is sitting on my street as I type this.
One of the bodies from ME was a suicide case. There was a jagged hole on the top of his head three inches wide. I've never seen a gaping gunshot wound like that before.
While on the road tonight, I told the assistant about my latest TV obsession: "Ghost Adventures". He told me that in over 500 times he's been at the mortuary alone at night, he's yet to see a single ghost or anything out of the ordinary. Although he doesn't believe in such things, he told me about his late father who died ten years ago and how he would smell his father at random places months after his passing. I said maybe your dad misses you so he visits you on occasion and wants you to think of him without frightening you, and he conceded that may be possible.
This morning another driver and I did a house call in an affluent seniors' condo. Her adult children seemed rather happy about it all, and the driver said to me they must have a nice inheritance coming their way. After seeing the place and learning that the woman had pre-arranged for the inevitable, I thought to myself that he may be right.
Our mortuary has a double-decker van that can carry up to four bodies at a time and I used it today to pick up three bodies from ME. The top "shelf" goes up and down via electric motor and is useful on busy days. This is the van we drove tonight and is sitting on my street as I type this.
One of the bodies from ME was a suicide case. There was a jagged hole on the top of his head three inches wide. I've never seen a gaping gunshot wound like that before.
I learned earlier today that a wonderful lady who worked in decedent affairs at the military hospital passed away this morning. I've only met her twice but she made a strong impression on me each time with her enthusiasm, sincerity and dignity. She just didn't seem to get caught up in petty stuff like the rest of us. She seemed very motherly, far wiser than her age (she was just a year older than me).
Just two weeks ago I was there to pick up a death certificate of a soldier and she told me I should apply for a job in her office and gave me her business card. She said not many people apply and that civilian jobs pay well and benefits are good. I was flattered that she wanted me to apply, but I still haven't yet. I'm sad over this and every other driver who knew her feels the same way. Rest in peace, C.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
God Is A Bullet
Just past midnight, waiting to see if there are any deaths to go pick up. This will be my third straight on-call night.
My first night of on-call I couldn't get to sleep so I just stayed up, when a call came at 2:00 am. It was a residential call, an elderly man died on the floor despite paramedics' attempts to save him. The family was there and many were crying. It must be heart wrenching to see your loved one die suddenly with strangers beating on their chest. The first on-call driver, now an unofficial assistant supervisor by day, still takes calls at night during the week. I met him at the house then at the mortuary to shelf the body. I got back home at 3:30 am and tried to shut my eyes for a bit before morning.
I was awakened by a phone call from the same assistant supervisor, calling me to see where I am being 20 minutes late. Shit. I dressed quickly and got to work, and luckily he and everyone else was cool about it and we went about our day.
Last night things went just right. There were two bodies to take to the airport right after my shift ended. Cha-ching, easy money. Went home and relaxed for a bit when the phone rang. There were three bodies to be picked up. Not all three needed two drivers but since the second one did, the assistant got permission for me to also get paid for all three. We dropped one off at the airport then went to go pick up an old lady at a very nice boarding home. The nurse told us she had scabies so we put on gowns and washed our hands thoroughly afterwards.
The assistant is a super cool guy and is highly concerned about pathogens and is religious about hygiene. I like that he cares about that, since people at the old place really didn't give a shit about drivers' well-being.
Third body was at the hospital morgue. We drove back to the mortuary and put away the bodies, and I was home going to bed by 11 pm. And just like that, I made almost as much money in 24 hours as I would the whole week.
In the afternoon today I picked up a mother and son who died together in a house fire. They weren't charred, likely dying from smoke inhalation. The head of the adult son started bleeding when I brought it back, the blood was seeping through the zipper of the body bag. Gross.
This morning I picked up a body from Mexico at our sister facility. A young American got shot to oblivion, I mean riddled with bullets. This is the first time for me seeing a human Swiss cheese up close. This guy really got dumped on, I counted at least ten bullet holes, all sutured up individually. My guess is 9 mm, possibly a machine gun. Makes you wonder what kind of trouble (obviously) this guy got mixed up in.
I'm still waiting for a call, I think I'll close my eyes for a little while...
My first night of on-call I couldn't get to sleep so I just stayed up, when a call came at 2:00 am. It was a residential call, an elderly man died on the floor despite paramedics' attempts to save him. The family was there and many were crying. It must be heart wrenching to see your loved one die suddenly with strangers beating on their chest. The first on-call driver, now an unofficial assistant supervisor by day, still takes calls at night during the week. I met him at the house then at the mortuary to shelf the body. I got back home at 3:30 am and tried to shut my eyes for a bit before morning.
I was awakened by a phone call from the same assistant supervisor, calling me to see where I am being 20 minutes late. Shit. I dressed quickly and got to work, and luckily he and everyone else was cool about it and we went about our day.
Last night things went just right. There were two bodies to take to the airport right after my shift ended. Cha-ching, easy money. Went home and relaxed for a bit when the phone rang. There were three bodies to be picked up. Not all three needed two drivers but since the second one did, the assistant got permission for me to also get paid for all three. We dropped one off at the airport then went to go pick up an old lady at a very nice boarding home. The nurse told us she had scabies so we put on gowns and washed our hands thoroughly afterwards.
The assistant is a super cool guy and is highly concerned about pathogens and is religious about hygiene. I like that he cares about that, since people at the old place really didn't give a shit about drivers' well-being.
Third body was at the hospital morgue. We drove back to the mortuary and put away the bodies, and I was home going to bed by 11 pm. And just like that, I made almost as much money in 24 hours as I would the whole week.
In the afternoon today I picked up a mother and son who died together in a house fire. They weren't charred, likely dying from smoke inhalation. The head of the adult son started bleeding when I brought it back, the blood was seeping through the zipper of the body bag. Gross.
This morning I picked up a body from Mexico at our sister facility. A young American got shot to oblivion, I mean riddled with bullets. This is the first time for me seeing a human Swiss cheese up close. This guy really got dumped on, I counted at least ten bullet holes, all sutured up individually. My guess is 9 mm, possibly a machine gun. Makes you wonder what kind of trouble (obviously) this guy got mixed up in.
I'm still waiting for a call, I think I'll close my eyes for a little while...
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Nightfly
My last removal before the weekend was a fetus. This morning my first removal was a two-month old baby. The weight of this baby was substantial, I'd guess around 10 lbs. They performed an autopsy at the children's hospital, so it was sutured up just like those from the MEO.
Tonight I am trying something new at this job: Second on-call driver. I'm not the first to be called tonight, but if there's a two-man removal I'll go assist and get paid a flat rate. The rate is much better than the old place. I even drove the company van home so I can go tho the location directly. I figure since I often stay up late practicing music for no pay I might as well get paid during my breaks.
Today was very mellow, and another driver and I discussed how fast the time went by despite being so un-busy. He and I went on a residential call together, my first bathtub removal. A man over 50 died in his bathtub and we had to lift him out. He didn't smell, but he had his underwear on. He had some bruising on his neck, so we mentioned that to our supervisor. MEO was contacted and the body will go in for autopsy to see if there is more to this case. The apartment was also upstairs so I'm glad there were two of us.
I'm glad my coworkers are fans of good coffee. The crap they were drinking was unacceptable so I brought in a pound of Starbucks for all to share. They love it (as do I) and hopefully we won't drink bad coffee again at work.
Tonight I am trying something new at this job: Second on-call driver. I'm not the first to be called tonight, but if there's a two-man removal I'll go assist and get paid a flat rate. The rate is much better than the old place. I even drove the company van home so I can go tho the location directly. I figure since I often stay up late practicing music for no pay I might as well get paid during my breaks.
Today was very mellow, and another driver and I discussed how fast the time went by despite being so un-busy. He and I went on a residential call together, my first bathtub removal. A man over 50 died in his bathtub and we had to lift him out. He didn't smell, but he had his underwear on. He had some bruising on his neck, so we mentioned that to our supervisor. MEO was contacted and the body will go in for autopsy to see if there is more to this case. The apartment was also upstairs so I'm glad there were two of us.
I'm glad my coworkers are fans of good coffee. The crap they were drinking was unacceptable so I brought in a pound of Starbucks for all to share. They love it (as do I) and hopefully we won't drink bad coffee again at work.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Behind the Sun
Rain and cold came in yesterday and it continued today. Whenever drastic changes in weather occur, people tend to die more. Or so it seems, and so I'm told by those who have been doing this longer than me. I can do my job without blinking (much) now, but I still empathize with those who lost their loved ones.
There's been several babies (fetuses in particular) that came in the past two days. Embalmers I work with tell me they come in in droves; a whole bunch suddenly and then none for a while. I went to go pick up a 25 week old fetus at women's hospital this morning, where they specialize in delivering babies. I carried in a company bag, as there was no need for a gurney. The morgue for fetuses is actually a regular household refrigerator with a padlock on it, and a curtain for privacy.
On the wall there were instructions printed, "Demise Procedures". I wondered if fetal demise is medically considered death; after all, it was never born to begin with. They fill out death certificates for them, so I guess it is. The supervisor was telling me fetuses die all the time, and that it's sad but common. We unwrapped the little blanket so I can check its ID and attach our own tag. Attaching a 2x4 tag with a ziptie on its tiny ankle seemed excessive, but I have to follow procedure. We wrapped it back up, put it inside the bag and I carried it out to the van like I just went shopping.
Twin sibling fetuses came in early this morning. Seeing their little faces and still-forming bodies is still not easy for me. These little beings did nothing wrong to deserve this. But such is nature I guess. I remember a security guard in the desert tell me that a hospital is a "Vortex of souls". Makes sense.
Other drivers I work with tell me that I probably won't see the nasty cases like I have at the other place, mainly because the company is picky about what cases they take. That's good, but they make the best stories I think.
I really like the people I work with. Morale is good and that makes the workday go by so much easier. I still feel like I'm just showing up to hang out and get paid. Over all, there hasn't been that many removals, so I help out the embalmers and watch what they do, and it's very interesting. Maybe after a year I may consider going into that field, but it's too early to say right now.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Back in Black
I'm back! Thanks for your patience, I hope to restart what I started. That means more about dead people.
A lot has happened since last month. I'm still doing the same line of work but for a different company now. Much better working environment at the new mortuary; better equipment, better morale, just better all around. Not that I regret the old place, but now that I can compare, yeah, that old place sucked. Especially the owner, who is so consumed by greed he can't see straight. Seeing the way he runs things employee turnover will always be high.
At the new place, I'm still doing the same job, removing dead people from homes, hospitals and MEO. No lengthy crematory driving though, the crematory picks up the bodies. It's a bigger facility with more bodies in the cooler. The best part is that the people I work with are infinitely better than the old place. I mean, my co-workers are actually a cooperative bunch, helping each other whenever possible and actually have manners. I like that.
Today I removed a couple of bodies from a nursing home and a hospital. Nothing new. Management likes the fact that I know where all the places are. I like the fact that the vans and gurneys are in great condition. Air conditioning works just fine in the vans here. I even did a two-man on-call run right after my shift, an old lady who died sitting in her Lay-Z-Boy. Just like that man who died on his couch, we slid the gurney under her legs and dragged her onto it, nice and simple.
More to come...
A lot has happened since last month. I'm still doing the same line of work but for a different company now. Much better working environment at the new mortuary; better equipment, better morale, just better all around. Not that I regret the old place, but now that I can compare, yeah, that old place sucked. Especially the owner, who is so consumed by greed he can't see straight. Seeing the way he runs things employee turnover will always be high.
At the new place, I'm still doing the same job, removing dead people from homes, hospitals and MEO. No lengthy crematory driving though, the crematory picks up the bodies. It's a bigger facility with more bodies in the cooler. The best part is that the people I work with are infinitely better than the old place. I mean, my co-workers are actually a cooperative bunch, helping each other whenever possible and actually have manners. I like that.
Today I removed a couple of bodies from a nursing home and a hospital. Nothing new. Management likes the fact that I know where all the places are. I like the fact that the vans and gurneys are in great condition. Air conditioning works just fine in the vans here. I even did a two-man on-call run right after my shift, an old lady who died sitting in her Lay-Z-Boy. Just like that man who died on his couch, we slid the gurney under her legs and dragged her onto it, nice and simple.
More to come...
Thursday, April 21, 2011
And how do you like your corpse?
Drove up to the crematory today after not going there for over a month. Took a party of seven, none of which I knew because I haven't picked up any bodies this week. Guess it was slow enough this week that the temp stayed home today. I drove, enjoying the scenery, munching on a PB&J sandwich and Doritos I packed for myself in the morning.
I also walked to work this morning, which I don't do that as much as I used to. The crematory guy is the same, though his hair got longer. Nothing has changed at the crematory, I guess I'm the one who's changed in the last three months. I had one body to pick up at a mortuary nearby, a normal looking old man, nothing unusual. Driving back with ashes, I realized how much I missed driving to the crematory, taking my time, getting into the music, alone with my thoughts for hours, etc. The best part is no pesky phone calls from the office every 15 minutes asking me where I am.
The other day, after not picking up any bodies all day, I visited the prep room where an embalmer was working on a body. It was a tall slightly decomposed male that had come back from MEO. The entire thorax was hollowed out, all organs now in a bio-hazards bin, along with the brain (Organs are removed at MEO and put back in the body after slicing off small samples). Lying by the feet was the sternum and a few inches of ribs that they cracked apart. Next to the empty head was skull cap that was sawed off. The face was intact but the skin was peeling off from decomposition.
The odor of the body was overwhelmed by the odor of the embalming fluid, and it was toxic, literally. When I commented that my eyes and nose stung from the vapor, the embalmer replied, "Yeah, I made this one a little stronger because of the decomp." Asked if it bothers him, he said that after 30 years of doing this it doesn't really bother him. The fluid was being injected into the carotid artery, slowly pumping it through the body. Much of the fluid was collecting into the chest cavity. With the skin peeled back you can see all the bright-red musculature, looking much like beef ribs at the supermarket.
Done with one side, the embalmer found the other artery on the other side of the neck and jammed the large needle into it and turned the pump back on. Inside the skull, a cut artery (that would've gone into the brain) was leaking fluid, so the embalmer pinched it off with a pincer. I asked about all the fluid in the chest and he said he'll drain it, but it's good to let it sit in there for a while. I also learned that it's not considered a full autopsy until the tongue, trachea and esophagus are removed.
Watching all this, it felt like I was watching TV, but of course it wasn't. There was no way in hell I could've stood in the prep room and watched this when I first started this job. Especially right after eating chili cheese dogs like I did. My chest started to ache from all the vapors so I left. The sensations from the vapors didn't go away for a while, I even smelled it when I woke up the next day.
I might add that I cooked up a little steak on the when I got home. Rare of course....
The odor of the body was overwhelmed by the odor of the embalming fluid, and it was toxic, literally. When I commented that my eyes and nose stung from the vapor, the embalmer replied, "Yeah, I made this one a little stronger because of the decomp." Asked if it bothers him, he said that after 30 years of doing this it doesn't really bother him. The fluid was being injected into the carotid artery, slowly pumping it through the body. Much of the fluid was collecting into the chest cavity. With the skin peeled back you can see all the bright-red musculature, looking much like beef ribs at the supermarket.
Done with one side, the embalmer found the other artery on the other side of the neck and jammed the large needle into it and turned the pump back on. Inside the skull, a cut artery (that would've gone into the brain) was leaking fluid, so the embalmer pinched it off with a pincer. I asked about all the fluid in the chest and he said he'll drain it, but it's good to let it sit in there for a while. I also learned that it's not considered a full autopsy until the tongue, trachea and esophagus are removed.
Watching all this, it felt like I was watching TV, but of course it wasn't. There was no way in hell I could've stood in the prep room and watched this when I first started this job. Especially right after eating chili cheese dogs like I did. My chest started to ache from all the vapors so I left. The sensations from the vapors didn't go away for a while, I even smelled it when I woke up the next day.
I might add that I cooked up a little steak on the when I got home. Rare of course....
Monday, April 18, 2011
Working Girl
Today was slooowww. There was a new driver (another one?) hired who started training today. A woman who is finishing her other gig as an EMT. Apparently the plan is for her to come in at night to answer calls and remove bodies overnight. Something I would not do, but then again, I wasn't sure about whether I could do my job either just three months ago.
I had a removal to go to so she tagged along to observe. A simple removal at a nursing home, though it took a little while to find the rear entrance. There were children playing in the courtyard and I wondered how to deal with that. The charge nurse was helpful, she even came into the room to help move the body of a woman who died just an hour prior.
Deliberately I checked the body for jewelry and pacemaker, tagged the ID on the wrist, slowly pulled the body onto the gurney, wrapped up the body, strapped it down, then covered it. Leaving the facility, I told the new driver to tell the kids to go inside for a bit while we left. She seemed to handle the situation well.
Driving back I told her about my trepidations when I started and how I've gotten used to a lot of things on this job. She said she was nervous about the unknown, and I told her it's easier when you go out alone because you can do things your way. Back at the funeral home, the lead driver stood back and watched with arms crossed as I showed her how to construct a box and load a body in it. She said she has a daughter; I wish her well.
Earlier, in the morning, I went to go remove a body that had been in the hospital morgue for some time. The blood in the bag had dried and the stomach was green. The smell was like that of bad beef jerky, if there was such a thing. Apparently this body was that of a gang member, based on the tattoos. The security guard mentioned that he was caught stealing purses even after he was admitted as a patient. Your guess is as good as mine as to how he died.
Things were so slow, that for the rest of the day the manager had me write out and organize a cross-reference list for the new urn catalog, writing out the item numbers and descriptions. Yawn...
I had a removal to go to so she tagged along to observe. A simple removal at a nursing home, though it took a little while to find the rear entrance. There were children playing in the courtyard and I wondered how to deal with that. The charge nurse was helpful, she even came into the room to help move the body of a woman who died just an hour prior.
Deliberately I checked the body for jewelry and pacemaker, tagged the ID on the wrist, slowly pulled the body onto the gurney, wrapped up the body, strapped it down, then covered it. Leaving the facility, I told the new driver to tell the kids to go inside for a bit while we left. She seemed to handle the situation well.
Driving back I told her about my trepidations when I started and how I've gotten used to a lot of things on this job. She said she was nervous about the unknown, and I told her it's easier when you go out alone because you can do things your way. Back at the funeral home, the lead driver stood back and watched with arms crossed as I showed her how to construct a box and load a body in it. She said she has a daughter; I wish her well.
Earlier, in the morning, I went to go remove a body that had been in the hospital morgue for some time. The blood in the bag had dried and the stomach was green. The smell was like that of bad beef jerky, if there was such a thing. Apparently this body was that of a gang member, based on the tattoos. The security guard mentioned that he was caught stealing purses even after he was admitted as a patient. Your guess is as good as mine as to how he died.
Things were so slow, that for the rest of the day the manager had me write out and organize a cross-reference list for the new urn catalog, writing out the item numbers and descriptions. Yawn...
Friday, April 15, 2011
Sleepers Awake!
The last two days have been relatively uneventful compared to the puke-covered Master Beta from the other day.
Today I picked up an old man from a nursing home. He was a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) case, so that means just that, they made no effort to bring him back when he croaked. He had two roommates, one on each side, who were more interested in watching TV; they were eager for me to take the man away and pull the curtains back so they can get back to their favorite show.
Then it was time for a two-man job at another hospital. I enjoy going on removals with the lead, who is the guy who trained me from the beginning. He listens to no music while driving and always has his black tie on tight and proper. I think he's had the same crew cut his entire life. Once in a while he'll crack a joke but when it's time to work he's very serious. Dead serious (rim shot!) Kinda like Dragnet with Tom Hanks and Dan Aykroyd. We wondered just how big the female would be since all we knew was "300+lbs." on the first call sheet.
Once in the morgue, we saw it, a huge woman at around 340. We opened the bag to check and discovered she had thick beard stubble like a man. We figured she had some hormonal issues. Luckily they left the Hoyer lift blanket under her so it was fairly easy to transfer her onto the bariatric gurney.
Yesterday, in contrast, I went to a house to pick up a 60 lbs. elderly woman. She was absolutely tiny. The thing that struck me was her family. Her husband and two daughters were the most jovial grieving family I've ever met. They joked around and told me stories as if I were a guest over for dinner. It was nice talking to them. As I was saying goodbye, one of the daughters explained that--as she wiped her tears--this is just how they cope, with humor and conversation.
I stopped by In N Out for lunch, enjoyed a Double Double and not concerned in the least about the bodies I had to pick up immediately after.
Then I went to remove an old woman from the hospital ICU room, where her children (who were retirement age themselves) sat around their mother until I arrived. They were very somber, no doubt reminiscing many years of memories. When they left they took all the flowers with them.
The office manager told me that I'd be going up to the crematory Friday. Hooray! It's been a while, and I'm looking forward to some quality time driving uninterrupted with the radio on, staying away from the office all day.
I was also thinking today what if a "dead" person wasn't really dead at all, and they wake up gasping for air while alone with me? It reminded me of the following clip, one of my favorite JS Bach pieces, one that I hope to be played when I die and people gather to cry over me.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Keep it in you pants
Today started out with another Public Administrator case. PA cases usually involve the police and a decomposing body, and this one was no exception.
When I arrived at the screen door, the decedent was on his sofa with his pants and underwear down around his ankles and vomit all over himself. The officer was sitting behind the sofa at the desk, surfing the internet on his cop computer. The small TV atop the shelf was on with some static-filled station. The officer said this 200 lbs. guy had a heart attack while masturbating three days ago. Apparently he complained about pain down his arm to his neighbor just before passing. The neighbor, out of concern, peeked through the window blinds early this morning and saw him dead so he called 911.
I said to the officer that he seemed like a grizzled veteran and he said, "Almost 22 years, I've seen a lot of things. I don't really get bothered by things like this anymore, um, what's the word I'm looking for..." Unaffected? I said. "Yes, unaffected. I'd like to think that people can count on me in times of crisis, knowing that I can handle a bad situation with a clear mind, and that makes me feel good."
He went on, "The worst one of these cases I've seen was a woman found in her jacuzzi after a week, ass up. The water was black. They had to use a lift to pick her out, and the body almost fell apart. I told my junior partner to watch that one while I went outside."
Back to the present, this man died lounging back into his sofa, busting a nut to his VCR porn. There was a lot of vomit, all over his stomach, sofa, and legs. There were flies swarming on the body. I thought the best course of action (and to avoid wrapping my arms around him) was to collapse the gurney, slide it under his feet, then pull the body onto it directly from the sofa. So I laid out the plastic and asked the officer to step on the other end of the gurney to stop it from sliding out. Then, I pulled. Didn't budge. This guy was glued to the couch by his own fluids, I thought. Officer suggested moving his upper body around to loosen him, and that seemed to help. Inch by inch, I tugged at the body by the ankles and this large body finally landed on the gurney. While wrapping him up the smell finally started to hit me, but I was prepared for it this time.
After this, I drove all the way across town, smelling the foul vomit/decomp stench the whole way, to pick up an elderly woman. Apparently the woman had cardiac arrest and EMTs tried to resuscitate her on the floor. The family had blankets covering her, and when I uncovered the body she had all kinds of tubes and an IV bag still stuck in her. She wasn't that big but I had to use the stretcher to get her off the floor. The family asked about tissue donation, but I just told them to call our office with any questions.
Later on I helped the lead driver set up a young man's body for a viewing for the family. He had no brain or skull; top of his head was just a flappy scalp after the autopsy at MEO. I wonder how he died...
To finish out the day I picked up a 50 year old at her house with a lot of people watching me remove her. Even her daughter wanted to watch. That was strange.
When I arrived at the screen door, the decedent was on his sofa with his pants and underwear down around his ankles and vomit all over himself. The officer was sitting behind the sofa at the desk, surfing the internet on his cop computer. The small TV atop the shelf was on with some static-filled station. The officer said this 200 lbs. guy had a heart attack while masturbating three days ago. Apparently he complained about pain down his arm to his neighbor just before passing. The neighbor, out of concern, peeked through the window blinds early this morning and saw him dead so he called 911.
I said to the officer that he seemed like a grizzled veteran and he said, "Almost 22 years, I've seen a lot of things. I don't really get bothered by things like this anymore, um, what's the word I'm looking for..." Unaffected? I said. "Yes, unaffected. I'd like to think that people can count on me in times of crisis, knowing that I can handle a bad situation with a clear mind, and that makes me feel good."
He went on, "The worst one of these cases I've seen was a woman found in her jacuzzi after a week, ass up. The water was black. They had to use a lift to pick her out, and the body almost fell apart. I told my junior partner to watch that one while I went outside."
Back to the present, this man died lounging back into his sofa, busting a nut to his VCR porn. There was a lot of vomit, all over his stomach, sofa, and legs. There were flies swarming on the body. I thought the best course of action (and to avoid wrapping my arms around him) was to collapse the gurney, slide it under his feet, then pull the body onto it directly from the sofa. So I laid out the plastic and asked the officer to step on the other end of the gurney to stop it from sliding out. Then, I pulled. Didn't budge. This guy was glued to the couch by his own fluids, I thought. Officer suggested moving his upper body around to loosen him, and that seemed to help. Inch by inch, I tugged at the body by the ankles and this large body finally landed on the gurney. While wrapping him up the smell finally started to hit me, but I was prepared for it this time.
After this, I drove all the way across town, smelling the foul vomit/decomp stench the whole way, to pick up an elderly woman. Apparently the woman had cardiac arrest and EMTs tried to resuscitate her on the floor. The family had blankets covering her, and when I uncovered the body she had all kinds of tubes and an IV bag still stuck in her. She wasn't that big but I had to use the stretcher to get her off the floor. The family asked about tissue donation, but I just told them to call our office with any questions.
Later on I helped the lead driver set up a young man's body for a viewing for the family. He had no brain or skull; top of his head was just a flappy scalp after the autopsy at MEO. I wonder how he died...
To finish out the day I picked up a 50 year old at her house with a lot of people watching me remove her. Even her daughter wanted to watch. That was strange.
Monday, April 11, 2011
She's So Heavy
It was nice to wake up at 9:30 this morning, though I was still five minutes late. Turns out the lead driver didn't show up today, and as far as I know no one has heard from him. I hope he's alright; after all, he's almost 60.
Right away I drove up north to pick up my first body of the workweek, an elderly male at the hospital. He was rail-thin. Then it was a heavier than average female at the local hospital.
This leads me to believe most, if not all, women lie about their weight on their IDs. I've been hauling bodies long enough now to know what 100, 150, 200, and even 250 lbs. feel like. There have been several occasions where the first call sheet listed 120 lbs., yet when I lift these females all I can think is, "There's no way in hell she is 120. More like 160, these lying family bastards!"
Of course I keep that to myself in front of the family. I guess it's like men rounding up on their height, but I've never met a man who lists himself six inches taller than he really is.
Weight is important to know for the funeral home and crematory. Anyone over 300 lbs. is charged extra because of extra time it takes to cremate the body, and presumably, extra labor in moving it. There are also pollution limits set by the county in how many pounds of human flesh the crematory can burn per hour, per day.
My lunch was at 4:30 pm. I hadn't eaten anything all day so the chili cheese Big Bites tasted delicious, washed down with a big Dr. Pepper. Right after that I picked up an autopsied body at MEO then drove a different route to another hospital (to avoid traffic) for my last one. I could've sat in traffic listening to music and make some overtime but I didn't feel like it, I wanted to get home and go for a nice run through the park, since I need to drop a couple of pounds myself.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Thank God It's Dieday
It's early Friday morning before work. It's been slow the past couple of days. Those I work with say things slow down around this time of year. "Death is seasonal," said the lead driver, meaning less people die in the summertime, spiking in numbers right after Christmas.
I hope this doesn't affect my employment or my full-time status. Lucky for me, I'll just go back to driving to the crematory if things really slow down and the temp goes on to another gig. I miss driving to the crematory; there's just so much less stress. As long as I get there and return in a reasonable time no one says anything.
Yesterday I went to a nursing home to pick up an old lady who'd lived there for the past 10 years, many of those bedridden. The nurse who helped me agreed that she would rather not be in a nursing home for that long. This nurse was very attractive and very nice, so I accepted her offer to help moving the 95 lb. body. I didn't need help, obviously, it was just nice talking to her. I hope somebody else there kicks the bucket soon so I can pay another visit.
I also stopped by the county health dept. to pick up death certificates for the bodies that came through the funeral home recently. One of them described a suicide with a handgun. Among the ones we get I wonder how many are suicides, since they don't tell the drivers anything about them at the time of removal. Another one described the car accident and the location of the accident.
Rain is in the forecast today which means more time in traffic and less in the office, which is always welcome. Drive safe out there; it could be your last every time out.
I hope this doesn't affect my employment or my full-time status. Lucky for me, I'll just go back to driving to the crematory if things really slow down and the temp goes on to another gig. I miss driving to the crematory; there's just so much less stress. As long as I get there and return in a reasonable time no one says anything.
Yesterday I went to a nursing home to pick up an old lady who'd lived there for the past 10 years, many of those bedridden. The nurse who helped me agreed that she would rather not be in a nursing home for that long. This nurse was very attractive and very nice, so I accepted her offer to help moving the 95 lb. body. I didn't need help, obviously, it was just nice talking to her. I hope somebody else there kicks the bucket soon so I can pay another visit.
I also stopped by the county health dept. to pick up death certificates for the bodies that came through the funeral home recently. One of them described a suicide with a handgun. Among the ones we get I wonder how many are suicides, since they don't tell the drivers anything about them at the time of removal. Another one described the car accident and the location of the accident.
Rain is in the forecast today which means more time in traffic and less in the office, which is always welcome. Drive safe out there; it could be your last every time out.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The bigger they are, the harder they die
The little van was finally fixed after two days. The owner decided not to fix the a/c since the whole system needed to be replaced. That seems cheap, but I can understand, considering the age and value of the van at this point. At least the brakes are done, and I read that sweating is good for your skin anyway.
Got a call late today for a pick up at the hospital. When the security opened the cooler in the morgue he started laughing. When I looked in I knew why: The biggest body I have ever removed. I've removed fat people with just a lot of fat. This one was just thick all around. Even the body bag was of a different variety, a lot tougher than the flimsy regular bags. I had to go back to the van and bring in the bariatric gurney.
This man must've been a former NFL lineman or something. He was big and wasn't even that fat really. His wrist was thicker than my ankle, and I am not exaggerating. 300 lbs. is my conservative estimate but this kind of weight is new to me. The security guard commented how the body looked like a casket under the cover.
Starting next week I'll be coming in to work around brunch time and finish early evening. Apparently all the overtime last pay period (due to all the late calls in the day) made the owner reconsider scheduling. Works for me, I was never a morning person anyway.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Good guys wear black
Today was memorable. The van was due to go in for service, but we should've known it'd be too busy for that on a Monday. Even with the temp driving a load to the crematory, the lead and I were busy all day.
I started out picking up an elderly woman at her house. Her son told me when I arrived, "I used to do what you do. But it's different when it's your own mother." I said I'll have to go through the same someday. Another cramped house, I tilted the gurney to get the body out.
I then drove up north an hour to pick up my first newborn/premature baby. I wasn't sure until I got to the hospital, but when the security opened up the cooler to reveal a football-sized wrap there was no doubt. My instinct was totally opposed to unwrapping the body, but it is my job to make sure I remove the correct one so I did. A little baby about two hand lengths, umbilical cord still attached, name tag on the tiny ankle about as big as my thumb. He/she (I didn't check that part, nor did I check the face) apparently died this morning.
Having not removed a baby before, I wrapped it back up, then wrapped it some more in the adult-sized plastic wrap, put it on the gurney, strapped it down and covered it just like any other body. Walking outside to the van, some delivery drivers stared at what was on my gurney. Usually I look back at people but I just looked straight ahead, loaded the body and took off, feeling odd. My heart goes out to the mother.
On the long drive back I wondered what age to die is the saddest. Certainly not 80 and up, at least to me. Is it newborn or and older age, when a person is aware of being alive and possibly aware of dying as well? Five to ten? Or teens? My choice is young children with cancer or a similarly slow-killing disease. That has to be the saddest.
Back at the funeral home, I boxed up a 90-something grandmother and taped up and labeled the newborn. An adult-sized box would have been too big for such a tiny body.
After lunch it was time to pick up two more. First was a hospital that I used to drive nursing home patients to on a regular basis, but first time in this capacity. While waiting for the nursing supervisor for paperwork a Catholic priest I knew from the home walked by and I stopped him to say hello.
The priest is a fairly young guy who sticks out of the crowd because he rides a big, black Harley with a crucifix on the front and a Jesus plate holder on the back, wearing the black shirt and white collar with a black half helmet and black leather pants with a big crucifix belt buckle. Imagine that. He was as nice as I remember and we chatted, and I told him what I do now.
The priest, Father Dave, told me, "A long time ago I was a funeral director, and a licensed embalmer, and I used to go on first calls just like you." No way, I said and he said it's true. I told him that blows my mind and that I would've never guessed such a thing from a priest and that he really must've seen it all. He nodded yes.
The thing that strikes me the most about Father Dave is his placid, pleasant demeanor. You can say well it's his job as a priest, but even among the priests I've met he just exudes a positive energy and a humble, approachable nature. In essence, the kind of person I'd like to be...
After that I went to the second hospital. I got the paperwork and I read the letters HIV on them. I heard that HIV dies off soon after the host, but still, I tried to be extra careful. Turns out to be a 245 lb male in a bloody body bag. Great. I used a lift that resembles an engine lift to try and get him onto the gurney but I wasn't sure if I could handle it so I took the cute security gal's offer of calling the Lift Team. As the name implies, the Lift Team goes around the hospital and lifts people; on and off beds, wheelchairs, tables, etc.
Two big guys came in (although not quite Hans & Franz as I imagined) and I told them about HIV and all the blood. They looked concerned but lifted the body onto the gurney like pros. One of them got a smidge of blood on his arm, but he washed up right away then they left, mission accomplished.
I had some difficulty in boxing up this one, and wrote "HIV" on the box to let others know when handling it, especially the crematory guy. Nothing wrong with following Universal Precautions (assume worst; cover up and wash up), right?
I started out picking up an elderly woman at her house. Her son told me when I arrived, "I used to do what you do. But it's different when it's your own mother." I said I'll have to go through the same someday. Another cramped house, I tilted the gurney to get the body out.
I then drove up north an hour to pick up my first newborn/premature baby. I wasn't sure until I got to the hospital, but when the security opened up the cooler to reveal a football-sized wrap there was no doubt. My instinct was totally opposed to unwrapping the body, but it is my job to make sure I remove the correct one so I did. A little baby about two hand lengths, umbilical cord still attached, name tag on the tiny ankle about as big as my thumb. He/she (I didn't check that part, nor did I check the face) apparently died this morning.
Having not removed a baby before, I wrapped it back up, then wrapped it some more in the adult-sized plastic wrap, put it on the gurney, strapped it down and covered it just like any other body. Walking outside to the van, some delivery drivers stared at what was on my gurney. Usually I look back at people but I just looked straight ahead, loaded the body and took off, feeling odd. My heart goes out to the mother.
On the long drive back I wondered what age to die is the saddest. Certainly not 80 and up, at least to me. Is it newborn or and older age, when a person is aware of being alive and possibly aware of dying as well? Five to ten? Or teens? My choice is young children with cancer or a similarly slow-killing disease. That has to be the saddest.
Back at the funeral home, I boxed up a 90-something grandmother and taped up and labeled the newborn. An adult-sized box would have been too big for such a tiny body.
After lunch it was time to pick up two more. First was a hospital that I used to drive nursing home patients to on a regular basis, but first time in this capacity. While waiting for the nursing supervisor for paperwork a Catholic priest I knew from the home walked by and I stopped him to say hello.
The priest is a fairly young guy who sticks out of the crowd because he rides a big, black Harley with a crucifix on the front and a Jesus plate holder on the back, wearing the black shirt and white collar with a black half helmet and black leather pants with a big crucifix belt buckle. Imagine that. He was as nice as I remember and we chatted, and I told him what I do now.
The priest, Father Dave, told me, "A long time ago I was a funeral director, and a licensed embalmer, and I used to go on first calls just like you." No way, I said and he said it's true. I told him that blows my mind and that I would've never guessed such a thing from a priest and that he really must've seen it all. He nodded yes.
The thing that strikes me the most about Father Dave is his placid, pleasant demeanor. You can say well it's his job as a priest, but even among the priests I've met he just exudes a positive energy and a humble, approachable nature. In essence, the kind of person I'd like to be...
After that I went to the second hospital. I got the paperwork and I read the letters HIV on them. I heard that HIV dies off soon after the host, but still, I tried to be extra careful. Turns out to be a 245 lb male in a bloody body bag. Great. I used a lift that resembles an engine lift to try and get him onto the gurney but I wasn't sure if I could handle it so I took the cute security gal's offer of calling the Lift Team. As the name implies, the Lift Team goes around the hospital and lifts people; on and off beds, wheelchairs, tables, etc.
Two big guys came in (although not quite Hans & Franz as I imagined) and I told them about HIV and all the blood. They looked concerned but lifted the body onto the gurney like pros. One of them got a smidge of blood on his arm, but he washed up right away then they left, mission accomplished.
I had some difficulty in boxing up this one, and wrote "HIV" on the box to let others know when handling it, especially the crematory guy. Nothing wrong with following Universal Precautions (assume worst; cover up and wash up), right?
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