Case # 3652-C
(Not an actual case #) (Names are changed to protect the dead)
Do you ever imagine what it would be like to die in a horrific car accident? Marcus Welby never thought his life would end so tragically. On the bright side, I would imagine he didn't suffer much.
Marcus was a 27 year old film student. He was cruising down PCH in his convertible, music blaring and bluetooth in his ear. Driving erratically, he failed to notice the 18-wheeler ahead of him coming to a stop. Marcus slammed on his brakes, but to no avail, he slammed into the back of the truck. The metal sheering off the hood of his new convertible, going through the windshield, and finally, taking off his head. His bluetooth still attached to his ear, flashing that blue light.
I get a call to go pick Marcus up from the coroner's office. I go through the usual processes: paperwork, identify the body, gather personal belongings. I put the gurneys side by side, no clue that he is decapitated. I go to move the body, and his head rolls right off of the table. It's going to hit the floor, and for some reason I am worried about it smashing open or some other unsightly consequence. I instinctively put my foot out to break its fall...and then think "what the hell did I do that for?' I pick the head back up by the hair, like a mom picking up her kitten by the scruff of the neck. I put it into the body bag and zip it up. I head back to the office.
This incident prompts me to share a vital piece of information with you all. If you are going to rear end an 18-wheeler, or any other type of giant truck, do me a favor, actually do yourself a favor. RECLINE YOUR SEAT!! Seriously, put your seat back as fast as you can and save yourself the pain of having your head chopped off. You probably won't escape total injury, but it will save someone from having to wander up and down the road trying to find your head.
So, take my advice.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
New beginnings....
So, now this will officially be my first morbid entry. A glimpse into my life, my job.....
Case #2738-A
(Not an actual case #) (Names have been changed to protect the dead).
It's my first day on the job....well, not my actual first day, but my first assignment alone
My assignment? Fight my way through traffic and absolute horrid directions to the coroner's office. Michael Jorgensen, a 47 year old overweight man, who in a past life may have been good looking. Now, all I see is a weathered, wrinkled face far beyond his years, due to alcohol abuse. A look on his face which, though bloated and macerated, lets me into a small corner of his depression.
I get all the paperwork taken care of. Unload the gurney from the van....let the door shut behind me so I have to walk around the entire building again. Open the heavy door to the refrigerator...the familiar oder escapes into the hallway. I walk down the rows of gurneys, checking all the toes tags until I find the man I have come searching for. I wheel him out into the hallway and line him up with my gurney...
Brakes?.....Check.
Personal belongings?......Check.
I start with the feet, and slide them from his gurney onto mine.
I grab his shoulders....then I see it...but it's too late. I feel a cool, think liquid running down my leg and between my toes.
My shoes....man...I liked those shoes.
Apparently Michael wasn't a very happy man. I imagined him sitting in his recliner, with cheap whiskey in one hand and fingering the cold steel trigger of his gun in the other.
He had put the gun up to his temple and solved all his problems right there.
Before I had a chance to step away, brain matter, skull fragments, CSF, blood, and embalming fluid had found their way down my legs and into a nice, sticky, slightly chunky puddle in my shoes.
I strapped him onto my gurney, put his gurney back in the fridge, cleaned up the floor and hosed myself off in the bathroom.
I returned to work....processed the body, did the paperwork and showered, making sure to loosen all of the sticky clots from between my toes.
............
There you have it....your first look into my life.
Case #2738-A
(Not an actual case #) (Names have been changed to protect the dead).
It's my first day on the job....well, not my actual first day, but my first assignment alone
My assignment? Fight my way through traffic and absolute horrid directions to the coroner's office. Michael Jorgensen, a 47 year old overweight man, who in a past life may have been good looking. Now, all I see is a weathered, wrinkled face far beyond his years, due to alcohol abuse. A look on his face which, though bloated and macerated, lets me into a small corner of his depression.
I get all the paperwork taken care of. Unload the gurney from the van....let the door shut behind me so I have to walk around the entire building again. Open the heavy door to the refrigerator...the familiar oder escapes into the hallway. I walk down the rows of gurneys, checking all the toes tags until I find the man I have come searching for. I wheel him out into the hallway and line him up with my gurney...
Brakes?.....Check.
Personal belongings?......Check.
I start with the feet, and slide them from his gurney onto mine.
I grab his shoulders....then I see it...but it's too late. I feel a cool, think liquid running down my leg and between my toes.
My shoes....man...I liked those shoes.
Apparently Michael wasn't a very happy man. I imagined him sitting in his recliner, with cheap whiskey in one hand and fingering the cold steel trigger of his gun in the other.
He had put the gun up to his temple and solved all his problems right there.
Before I had a chance to step away, brain matter, skull fragments, CSF, blood, and embalming fluid had found their way down my legs and into a nice, sticky, slightly chunky puddle in my shoes.
I strapped him onto my gurney, put his gurney back in the fridge, cleaned up the floor and hosed myself off in the bathroom.
I returned to work....processed the body, did the paperwork and showered, making sure to loosen all of the sticky clots from between my toes.
............
There you have it....your first look into my life.
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