Is it really only Tuesday?

So, I'm feeling a lot less depressed.

I had services last week for a 15 year old girl that died. Her parents hadn't been together for a long time, and they don't get along at all, so I was the go-between. They each came in to arrange services separately, and each party had their own visitation/funeral for their daughter. Very odd. Everything went smoothly though, and both the mother and the father complimented the Kid and myself with how wonderfully it went. They both also told me that they were grateful for me dealing with their ex so that they didn't have to. Honestly, they were both pleasant, so it didn't bother me really, except for the extra time. Whatever.

These are my goals this week today:
1. organize a price list for all the funeral programs. Do not stop until it makes sense and looks pretty.
2. get new windshield wipers. My car is suffering. It also needs a bath.
3. organize Clem's 7th birthday party.
4. find and order some cute suspenders.
5. grocery shopping! I don't know why I avoid doing that on weekends when I have time to.

So, we'll see if I can kick it into gear and get stuff done.

Question from 8thday

I was wondering - do you know what the percentage is of people using churches vs. funeral homes for their funerals? And has that percentage changed over the years? It seems like the vast majority of services I attend are now done (non-religiously) right in the funeral home. But that might be a product of who I am and where I live.

I really wish I had an answer for you, but it's hard for me to figure out. I mean, I suppose that the families that choose to have services tend toward their own church, but I have seen an increase in the number of chapel services, and I have had families ask for the chapel specifically because they wanted something non-religious. Part of the reason I don't feel like I can accurately answer you though, is that the last job I had was in a fairly large city, and larger cities tend to be less religious, therefore making the church services less popular. Before that I was in a smaller farming community, and they are traditional as anything, so they are more likely to use churches (and also more likely to choose burial instead of cremation, which also means they are more likely to have services of any kind). Does that clear anything up?

Disinterments

So, I had a disinterment this week. A family wanted their mother shipped to another state after having been buried here for 15 years. Luckily, her casket is metal, and she had been buried in a full vault, not just a liner (I suppose you'll need a vocab lesson for those), but not luckily the casket was quite rusty, and she's kinda gross looking I'm sure. But you know what is the best part? This particular cemetery didn't make me climb in the hole to inspect everything first. Nope, they just had me show up after getting her out of the ground, helped me put her in the car, and that was that.

See, thus is how it usually happens: I get to the cemetery when they are digging the hole and once they hit the vault they take off the lid and tell me to go on in to make sure the casket is in good enough shape for them to lift out. I have to open it to make sure the bottom won't fall out either. It smells. I gag profusely while the cemetery guys watch. I have to swallow my own puke. It. Is. Gross. The sit I wore that day has to be thrown away, not even the dry cleaner can get the smell off. My hair smells for days. My skin feels disgusting. The odor is in my noise hairs and I can't get it out. It's really bad.

So, this week's disinterment? Cake walk.

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Batesville Casket Company

I think this one was Monday's post

One of the giants in funeral service products is Batesville Casket Company. They are run by Hillenbrand Industries, which own a shit ton of stuff (it seems) that is related to funeral service. I would bet that anyone working in the death industry knows Batesville, and most funeral homes in America probably have some sort of casket or urn on their show floor.

They’ve been around a long time, and as most of the caskets we carry, and the funeral homes that have employed me in the past carried, are Batesville caskets. In mortuary school we watch videos on how caskets are made, and those videos were shot at the Batesville plant (probably) in Batesville, Indiana. The company even offers employees of funeral homes that carry their products an all-expense paid trip to see their Indiana plant, and apparently it’s awesome (my ex has been twice).

They also make urns, and googling Batesville Urn or Batesville Casket will probably show you a wide range of what they make. They are known for being higher-end, and therefore more expensive, but all of their products are mass produced, so they aren’t as expensive as places (or people) that offer one-of-a-kind or handmade funeral products.

Their website is here, although, for a company that is so large, it’s really crap.

New friends

So, I am finally feeling a bit better today.  I am tired, mostly tired of coughing, but I finally don't have a headache the size of Alaska.

Wednesday, right? So that means funeral services.

I haven't worked any really fascinating services lately, but I have worked some services that have ended by starting a new friendship or two.

One, a service for a woman in her late 50s (I think), her daughter was the one to make arrangements, along with her grandma (the mother of the deceased), and everything went really well.  So well, in fact, that the daughter invited me (the service was on a Saturday), along with my J and Clem, to meet up with them (she and her hubby, her dad, grandma, some aunts , uncles and a few friends) for breakfast and bloody marys the next morning, so we went.  We had a blast.  They loved Clem, and weren't at all odded out by my having a girlfriend.  It was great.  So great, in fact, that they called a few weeks later when they were back in town (the daughter and her husband) to do it again.  It really was wonderful.  We went to the same Basque place, had an awesome breakfast (served with wine, ???), and they taught Clem how to say she's from the area code that we live in. Hilarious.

I'm not really sure why, but I wanted to share that one with you.  Maybe I needed a little pick-me-up this week.

Mourners, party of 3...

I know I've mentioned before that some people decide to pre-plan their funeral services, and that it insures that their wishes are followed after they die.  Well, we had a death this week for a woman who had done just that, and pre-planned a funeral service in the chapel, followed by burial in a cemetery here.  She picked out everything, and prepaid for it all, so when she died we got started arranging for everything and found out she has no family.  Apparently the state (or county or whatever) appointed a public guardian to her to help take care of her (find a nursing home, figure out medical care, take care of finances, etc.) since her husband died 20 years ago and she had no other family.  Normally in that sort of case the public guardian will just have the remains cremated and then buried somewhere, using any funds that the deceased has left, but in her case it was all taken care of, so the guardian let us take care of it all.

Anyway, we knew no one was going to come to the service. It seems sad to think that, and I suppose it is, but all of us were kind of excited that we would get to be the attendees for the service.  Our very own Buck was the officiate, and Monica, Tank and I sat in the first pew of the chapel.  Boss sat in the back (he was the only one that knew the deceased at all), and Big Bird popped her head in a few times.  The service lasted about 25 minutes, and at the end Buck and Buffy sang Amazing Grace a cappella, and it was beautiful.  We were all given a chance to say a few words about the woman that had died, and although we didn't know her we said what was on out hearts.  It was really a wonderful service, and a great end to my week.

Death becomes me

I like wearing skirts. I even like wearing dresses. Actually, i love both, and most of the summer I am in dresses instead of pants (never shorts, those are awful). The thing is though, being required to not wear pants at work has made me re-think my dress-loving sense of style.  Weird, yes. Where am I going with this? I'll tell you.

I have been bitching a bit lately about this "no pants at work" policy (gotta love old-fashioned managers), and I've come to realize that it isn't the requirement to wear skirt suits, but the requirement to wear pantyhose that goes along with it. They really are awful things, and I'm starting to really hate summer because of them (christ almighty, they're warm).  And through all my complaining I forgot something: I look good in my skirt suits.

See, i was out to lunch a couple of weeks ago on a Saturday, and i ran into a guy I recognized from a funeral (I had been the director for his mother's service about a year ago, and his dad's about 5 months ago). I went up to him and said hi, he was with a friend of his and introduced me, and he gave me a hug and kiss.  He told me I look different, but good, in my normal clothes (jeans and a long sleeve shirt), and turned to his buddy and said "you should see this woman in one of her suits. With looks like that not one of us could pay attention to the first ten minutes of Mass." I was flattered, and I told him thanks, and he gave me his business card, telling me I should call him if I ever needed anything.

So, it turns out the skirt suits aren't that bad, I mean, at least I look decent...

I would LOL but it would interfere with the pouting

Monica got flowers.

I am totally jealous.

See, I'm not really the type that gives a shit about getting flowers (well, not that much of a shit anyway), and I'm definitely not jealous of getting red roses (yep, Monica got red. fucking. roses.), as I'm not a rose person, but she got them from a family she did the services for, and that makes me jealous.  I couldn't have cared less if they had been from her man (cuz he's totally unworthy of her, and all other women), but from a family? Because they were grateful? And with a card that reads "Thanks for the wonderful job you did???" You would be jealous, too. I deserve flowers, damn it. I'm a fucking charming embalmer. People love me...don't they??

So, here I sit flowerless and jealous. Maybe I'll steal them...

Doll, if anyone asks, nothing happened last night

The title of this post was the first thing the boss said to me this morning when I saw him at work, and without knowing what it was I did last night, it sounds pretty juicy...

Yesterday, by the end of the day we had 9 new cases.  I already had two families scheduled to come in today, one at 10 and one at 1130.  Pretty close together, and I was feeling a bit of pressure knowing how hectic today would be, not counting whatever cases died overnight.  Anyway, the boss comes in yesterday around 430:

Boss: Doll! It's been a long day! Boys night out tonight. After work. (Lists the guys that are gonna be there)
Me: *laughs* I'm one of the boys??
Boss: Yes, Doll, one of the guys in particular made sure you were notified.
Me: Is your Sugar Lips gonna be there?
Boss: Definitely not. No girls allowed. And no telling the women, Doll. It's a secret boys night. We're going to that new beer spot in town.
Me: *confused* But I'm not a boy. I don't even look like a boy. *starting to panic* BOSS! DO I LOOK LIKE A BOY???
Boss: *chuckle* You don't look like a boy. *another chuckle* But the boys think you are one of us, you are more vulgar than we are, so you're an honorary boy. And you can hold your beer. We like that.
Me: *slightly embarrassed* That's sweet boss.  I have Clem tonight though.
Boss: You need a night out, kiddo. Bring her with you.
Me: What about J? It sounds like girlfriends are forbidden from this boys night out.
Boss: She's good to go. The old guys want to meet her anyway.
Me: So lemme get this straight, Boss. You are having a boys night out at a pub and you are inviting me, my daughter, and my girlfriend?
Boss:*laughing* You coming or not, Doll?
Me: We'll be there... Wait! are the Giants gonna be on???
Boss: You're too much, kiddo.

So, we went out and had a great time.  And apparently so did the boys.

And I'm super swamped. The family I met with at 10 lasted til 12, so Monica had to meet with the 1130 which sucks because she had just come in from a funeral Mass about 10 minutes prior, and as I was finishing up with the 10 o'clock we got a new case that was supposed to be here at 2 and still hasn't called or showed up.  Jane is pissed because I am busy with four hundred pounds of paperwork and families that don't show up, so I cant work in the prep room and she's got more bodies than she can handle in an 8 hour work day.

Fuck. At least I got to have a couple of beers last night.

There's always one...

So, I'm live blogging a funeral right now. It's in our chapel, and we are heading out to the cemetery in a bit.  Tank and Opie and I are all working this service, and they are funny about certian things, one of which is women. Particularly women at funerals.

See, there's this rule about funerals: there is always one, some woman, at every service, that is a little too cute and a lot too sexy to be at a funeral. Don't get me wrong, it's quite amusing (Tank goes a bit ape-shit), but it's also a little embarassing as well. I mean, you kinda can't help but stare, and we (the funeral staff) always tell each other who to look for. Like with this gal (whom i thought was about 17 until i found out how old she really was), as soon as she came in Tank comes up to me and says. "Foyer, green top, black skirt and HEELS!" So I go out there and yep, she's a little hottie, and i immediately feel a bit dirty and tell Tank he's in trouble, what with how young she is.  And to make matters worse she had this flirty "yeah, I know I'm trouble" look on her face.

So, i end up being the one to take the family to the cemetery in the limo, and she sat in the center seat of the back row, right in my line of vision in the rear view mirror.  She was kinda making me nervous, and it was hard to look in the rear view without thinking that she would think I was staring at her, so I would quickly look away. It was all a bit amusing (and very embarrassing) and I was glad to be out of the car when we got to the graveside.

On the way back it was the same, but she was talkative, and I swear she winked at me in the mirror. Wtf, right? Anyway, i laughed this nervous laugh, and looked away and didn't look again the rest of the trip.

Conversations with my mother

I was talking to my mom the other night, she had shoulder surgery and I went over to check up on her and I was telling her about my manager, Tank (whom she knows), and the experience he had last week. Back years ago, when he had first received his embalmer’s license, he got a case, a young woman who had been murdered, and it was his first homicide. She had been pretty badly beaten, and he embalmed her and also met with her family, and he remembers a lot about the case: her name, how old she was, the family, etc. Apparently there had been other murders in the area all by what looked like the same person, and the man (I’m not just assuming it was a man, the victims all had been sexually assaulted and there was semen found on them) had never been caught. So, the other night he was watching the news and he heard that a man had been convicted of these murders from the time period and in the same area as this gal, but no victim names were mentioned in the clip, so he googled the story, finding the name of the girl he had embalmed decades ago as one of those victims this guy had been convicted of murdering. Pretty effing crazy, no?

So, I tell this all to my mom who is shocked that Tank remembered, and then she looked at me and said how sad it was.

Mom: That’s so sad, Doll.
Me: Yeah, but sometimes people die that way.
Mom: No, I mean that he was so affected. How awful.
Me: It’s not that bad, mom.
Mom: But it stayed with him all that time. It must have really weighed heavy on him to have stayed with him for so long. How awful to have had to work on a homicide. You’ve never had to do that, have you??
Me: Work on a homicide?
Mom: Yeah.
Me: Of course I have, mom.
Mom: How sad!!
Me: It’s part of the job, mom. It’s helpful.

So, I was thinking about it, my poor mother, all doped up on surgery meds, being surprised at the fact that I’ve worked on homicides, when I know she and I have talked about it before. Hell, I was a mess a while back working on the little one (4 years old) that had been murdered and bawled my brains out at her, so I know she knew that I’ve had to do that before, but I think it wasn’t until Tank’s story that she realized that some of this shit doesn’t go away. Some of it just stays with us. He will always see the marks on that woman’s body, remembering how he had to cover up the strangulation marks on her neck so that her parents and sister wouldn’t see the extent of the damage done to their girl, and that will always be part of the game. I will never forget that little one, and cannot seem to escape the knowledge that they suffered. Suffered badly, and for what reason? I remember my tears falling on the child’s arms as I dressed the little body, and watching a father place them in a casket that shouldn’t even be made that small.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that my mom is right. It is sad. And I think I am starting to understand that it might hurt every now and then. But it’s my job. And I love it. And I think I am starting to realize that it’s okay to be affected, at least every once in a while.

In which I was busy

Eek!

High profile cases were everywhere last week.  I am glad that's over.

I had a baby (preemie, lived two weeks) service yesterday- a graveside- and the priest was a half-hour late, and it was cold outside.  I was not too happy, not to mention the family was irate, but as soon as the service got started it was okay.  The sun even came out for a few minutes.

I had lunch with Big Bird yesterday as well, and it was quite awkward.  She is just so strange.  And I feel like she doesn't quite know what to say to me with the whole divorce situation.  She does ask about Clem, making sure she's okay, and that's nice, but I sorta feel like she wants details and doesn't know how to ask.  So, the lunch was a bit weird (to say the least) and I ended up getting hit on by a guy eating next to us (which she brought up to the rest of the office when we got back, embarrassing me a bit).  Very odd.

We ended up with a total of four suicides in the last two weeks.  Two gunshot wounds to the head, one OD on pills, and one suffocation, all self-inflicted (obviously).  I'm not too sure what's with the suicides, but whatever.

This week I have an AIDS case.  It's one of those cause of deaths that seems like it would worry those of us that work with the bodies, but doesn't.  See, AIDS is a very picky virus.  It can't live long in a body that isn't the right temperature, unlike Hepatitis or TB, so once a body has been refrigerated for a while it is unlikely that the remains could infect one of us (that, and it's blood borne, not airborne (again, like TB)).  The AIDS case is an older man, and from the other things listed on his death certificate it seems like he probably contracted it from needles.

Also, I have a Facebook page if any of you want to be a fan (but if you know me in real life, please don't, as I am a bit paranoid).

Manic Monday

Busiest. Day. Ever!!!

So, I was on call this weekend, and didn't end up having to go in the office once, which was nice because I had a long, emotionally draining time with the hubby.  I got six new cases, most of which were on Sunday, and the families all acted like they wanted to come in on Monday to make arrangements, and two of the cases were coroner's cases that wouldn't be released until Monday anyway, so we couldn't embalm them until then.

Anyway, I feel like I have been making arrangements ALL DAY, which I have.  My first appointment was at eleven, making arrangements for a 12 day old infant that apparently died of SIDS, but the ruling most likely won't be for months.  SIDS cases are hard to determine right away, it seems to be one of those cause of deaths that is kinda a catchall.  So, the mom and dad weren't really good buddies, and both of their parents came in to help, as well as friends of the family and the pastor.  They prayed throughout the whole thing, which I'm totally for, but I felt very awkward the whole time.  They picked a nice little casket, and the service is going to be at a church, which I'm glad for, as I don't know that our chapel would be big enough.  I gave them all my cell number so that they could reach me if they had questions (I figure two eighteen year olds might have a few questions) and sent them on their way.

The second family I met with was nice, they had a pre-arrangement on their dad who died, and the arrangement went smoothly.  The arrangements were being made by three of the sons, whom, within five minutes of the arrangement had been charmed by my loveliness and humor.  They hadn't been one of the calls that came in over the weekend, and they just walked in without an appointment (NOT the day to do that, but whatever), but luckily I had the time to meet with them since my manager ended up taking my other appointment, who had been running late.

Then I had a three o'clock, and they were strange.  They wanted a cremation for their dad, and asked every question in the book about every little thing.  It was two sons and a daughter of the deceased, and one of the sons was doing that look-at-me-a-little-too-long thing that was a bit creepy, but at the same time made me feel like I was overreacting and he was just weird, but not creepy.  But let me reiterate: they asked EVERY QUESTION IN THE BOOK!!! I even said to them that my mort sci teachers would be very proud of me if they were there listening.  they laughed, and I'm sure they have no idea that no one asks all those questions.

Anyway, there was only one case for me to get ready today, and he looked great, but when all was said and done we had six that needed to be embalmed today, none of which I embalmed, and I am sure to get an earful from Jane tomorrow about that.

ANd now I'm sitting on my sister's bed, having a vodka cranberry (all about the health), checking her farmville (is it possible to be addicted and NOT have my own facebook?), and posting, but grateful because my daughter is sleeping in the next room and not across town, and starting to get a little tired.

It's like being in an episode of The Twilight Zone

So, this week has been unending.  We had six services today, and new families to meet with.  It was insane.  We had five services yesterday.  I have just about gone mad.

Anyway, there's a visitation tonight, it starts in just a few minutes, and the family was a little late in approving the info we have on the deceased, so Buffy is just finishing up on printing the programs and register book.  He's been super busy all day anyway though, so it's not like it would have been completed a long time ago had the family approved our paperwork sooner.  Anyway, Big Bird (funeral office Nazi) just took a call that apparently was a family member of the visitation-tonight-guy, letting us know that we had an incorrect middle initial for him.  So, she tells Buffy and he just says, "great, now I have to reprint the book and everything." He sounded really sad when he said it, you could hear the I-thought-today-was-over-and-now-I-have-to-stay-late disappointment in his voice, and Big Bird did something I never thought I'd see.  She leaned in to him (he was sitting with his back to her, she was standing behind him) and lightly rubbed his back with the back of her index finger.  It was so loving and mother-like I just about died.  Buffy even looked over at me with this "wtf" expression, and we just kinda stared at each other.  It was the weirdest thing.  So, anyway, that's all I've got for today.

Join me next week for a recap of the decapitation case...

The comfort of tradition

I'm at a service. It's a Rosary followed by a Mass, followed by the cremation of the deceased's remains. Usually when we're as busy as we are right now I don't like working services, as I am constantly thinking about what I could be doing at the office, not thinking about being a great funeral director, but today I am glad to be here. It could be partly because I don't have to go to the cemetery after we finish, which is always cold at this hour and this time of year, but mostly it's because I just need a break, and it turns out this Rosary the priest is saying is soothing me. I love the sound of his voice, and the response the crowd gives. The words sound beautiful and melodic, and I just want to hear them over and over, the rest of the day, and let them wash my tiredness and stress away in a river of peacefull lyrics. I can think here. I can relax. I can breathe.

I don't suppose I will ever know why it is that the words of the Rosary are so wonderful to me. I'm not Catholic, although my mom often tells me that I should have been born her (raised Catholic) and she been born me (raised Presbyterian). There's just something about it having always been done this way, the tradition of the prayers, and the holiness of it all. I'm just glad to be here, at this little church, hearing these words.

I don't remember ever being this busy

OMFG.

Number of cases we have in house: 21

Number of cases I want to be working on: 0

I am so busy I can hardly see straight.  Monica was on call this weekend, and she called to let me know we were swamped over the weekend.  We got an auto accident case who is actually Monica's uncle (in-law), and he should be arriving any minute for me to check him out and see how extensive the damage is on his head.  I'm hoping that he's not too bad mostly because of how little time I have to work on him, and also because I don't want Monica to see him like that, even if she is a tough girl.

I also have a case that is going to be shipped in from Oregon.  I love seeing death certificates from other states, so that should be fun.

Anyway, I am really sorry for the lack of posting.

Just a small update

It's been a busy week, I had three services yesterday and have four today. I'm out at a cemetery right now, at a service for a young guy that was killed in an accident (motorcycle). His viewing was yesterday, he is such a handsome kid, and the family thought he looked amazing. His bone structure was fine for the most part, the only fractures I found were inside his cranium, where the occipital lobes attach to the rest of the skull, and the flesh was still intact so I wasn't required to do any wiring of the bones. His face was a bit scratched and fairly bruised, but after a while I was able to get him looking perfect. His dad even called my cell last night to tell me how beautiful his son looked and to tell me thanks, which was really nice.

Okay, I'm back in the office now. I have a memorial service starting shortly, and I'm not going to have time to blog later today, as I have a few cases that need my attention after the service, but I am on call this weekend, so there's a chance I will be blogging tomorrow.

Jewish Services

So, I don't know how many of my reader friends are Jewish, or even have many Jews in their community, but this past month I've had two Jewish funerals, and let me tell you: they are not easy.

So, Jews, Orthodox Jews in particular, have rules about burial, like, not just traditions, but rules.  When one dies, the interment (burial) must be within 24 hours (as long as that's possible), not counting the Sabbath (sundown Friday to sundown Saturday) on which it is forbidden to do work pertaining to the funeral arrangements.  This can be a bit hectic, especially when the deceased's doctor isn't Jewish, as they don't always cooperate with the funeral home in how quickly they do the death certificate paperwork (which is necessary for burial to take place).  The evening before burial (the day of the death) the body must be bathed and shrouded, then placed in an Orthodox casket, called an Aron, which is always a wooden casket with no metal or animal-based glues, and usually has holes in the bottom (to aid in decomposition of the remains) and a Star of David on the lid.

So, the bathing ritual takes place in the embalming room, so I have to make sure it's extra clean, and I have to take down the crucifix that I always have hanging above the sink, and get out protective gowns, shoe covers, gloves, etc. for the people to wear that come in to do the bathing.  The ceremony is done by four members of the Synegauge that are of the same sex as the deceased, and I have never watched it, I feel out of place when they start chanting in Hebrew, but I do pop my head in every once in a while to make sure they don't need anything.  It takes about three hours, and when the bathing/praying/shrouding is done we all put the deceased in the Aron.  There are candles that get light when the bathing ceremony is taking place, ones that look a lot like the Catholic ones, but instead of Jesus they are decorated with a Star of David and words in Hebrew.  THe candle is to stay with the remains before they are buried, lit the whole time, and then after the burial they are taken by the surving family members and burned for another 6 days at home.

At the time of the death (if the Rabbi is there) the Rabbi tears the clothing of the family members.  The clothing is then worn for a week to remind the family to grieve.  If family members weren't present at the death their clothing is torn at the graveside.

The attendees at the burial all help shovel the earth into the plot once the Aron is lowered into the ground, and that's it.

It doesn't seem like as much work as it really was, rereading the post, but I promise, it was stressful.

Friday Question-fest

Question from Jenn:
Also, most of us like to think of death as a nice, quiet passing; but there are those that pass quite violently (car accidents, buildings collapse, airplane crashes) how does that differ? Have you ever encountered anything so horrific that you couldn't stand it?

It's strange I suppose, but the horrifying part of dying is usually okay with me.  There have been auto accidents that have been very scary looking when the body reaches me, with the re-building of the skull alone taking a whole day, and the actual face taking a lot longer.  A few suicides have also been quite the projects, shotguns are very damaging.   The worst looking cases (and most likely that I cannot help them) are usually drowning victims that don't get removed from the water quickly.  We call them floaters, and the water makes them decompose very quickly, and they smell awful and look even worse.  But really, I haven't ever had a case that I couldn't work on because it was too gross, I actually like the gross ones, they give me something to do. 

And IT asked:
Do funeral homes charge like a corkage fee if somebody already has casket that they bought from Walmart or Costco?

LoL.  It's actually illegal to charge a casket handling fee, but funeral homes get around it by either offering package pricing when a family buys a casket from them and then itemizing their service fees if the casket is purchased elsewhere, or by raising their service fees and lowering casket prices so that they get the money anyway.  Costco has been selling caskets for a while now, and I have only encountered a family using them twice, so I'm not really sure how well they're doing with the whole thing, and just as a side note: the caskets offered now by Walmart are made by the same company as the Costco ones.

And a last one from RIC Girl:
I have a question about facial reconstruction. Can you explain how you disguise bad cuts, broken bones or areas of the face that are shattered? How about the smells involved with the whole embalming process? Is it something you get used to?

As for facial abrasions, it depends a lot on the type of wound.  No matter what the hole is stitched up, I usually use dental floss (white, mint).  It's very strong, and thick enough not to rip through and tear the skin when pulled tightly enough to close a gaping facial wound, but not heavy like the string I ues to stitch up the embalming incision(s), and it smells nice.  Anyway, if part of the skin is missing i bring the two (or more) sides together as much as possible when I stitch it up without pulling too hard so that the skin looks too tight.  That way there is floss going across the hole, giving the stuff I use to fill the hole up with something to hold on to.  once its all stitched I dry the tissue really well with a chemical, and I can then start rebuilding.  The product I like to use the most for that sort of thing is called "Easy Way" (I know, totally lame name) and is made by a chemical company called Dodge (I think they're out of Massachusetts (wow, I don't think I would have EVER been able to spell that state n my own)).  The Easy Way is a powder and a liquid that I mix together when I'm ready to use it, and I can make it any consistency I need.  I usually make it a little more pliable than modeling wax, and stick it where I need it.  If I'm using it to fill a hole I just sculpt it to fit the surrounding tissue, and smooth it over using a paint brush and a chemical called "Dry Wash II" something a lot like nail polish remover, that allows the brush to glide over the Easy Way and not stick to it.  When the Easy Way looks the way I want it to I cover it with some of the powder in the mixture and let it sit for a bit.  I can add layer after layer to build up features (like a nose or lip, or something like the brow bone or cheekbone if it wasn't able to be rebuilt from the underside) after the underneath layers dry and become hard if I need to.  When Easy Way first came out it was hard to work with, but I kept at it, and now I like it much more than the wax clays we used for eons before the Easy Way came along.  I've been trying to teach Jane to use it as well, but she's old and set in her ways (and she usually hires me to do reconstructions anyway).  Once the features are the way I want them I use make-up over them, and then apply any hair that might need to be there (eyebrows/eyelashes are common things that need to be replaced in accident victims).

As for the smells, yeah, they're gross, and I'll admit, I have gagged a time or two, but they really don't bother me too often.  Don't get me wrong, I dont adore the smell of decomposing flesh, or the smell of viscera on an autopsied case (imagine what rotting feces would smell like), but it's just part of the job.  Same thing for the smells of the chemicals, I just kinda have to bear them, so I do.

Busy girl

I was a busy busy bee today. Tank is out of town so I have been meeting with more families than usual and have had to be the one to approve all the cremations before they leave our facility to be cremated. Jane is also out of town, but I've been to busy with other stuff to do the embalmings today so I called in a part-timer to come do them for us. Actually, I am kinda glad I didn't have to embalm today, it's been getting cooler and I am one of those people that's constantly cold anyway, so I just freeze in the prep room.

J checked on me last night and I told her that I was really hurt and sad, but that I would be here whenever she sorted all her stuff out. It was wonderful to hear the relief in her voice, I think she has been worried that I would hate her, and today she texted to let me know how much better today has been for her compared with this last week. It just might mean progress, folks.

One thing I wondered: Is there anything you want to know about my job? If not that's fine, I'll keep posting the happenings, but if there's something you wonder you can ask and if I know the answer I will tell you.