Best. Saturday. Ever.

What a lazy day.  Having a great time, beer, guacamole, and the people I love. Doesn't get any better, folks.

Yummy lunch!

Just a photo of the oysters i'm eating...

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.

Just a giveaway

Part of the rules were that I had to let you all know about this lovely little giveaway in order to enter, so, why don't you check it out.

Also, I have a baseball bat to the face to do right now, will post tomorrow!

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).

I got an email question:

Good Day Dollface:
First off, I enjoy your blog for giving us readers an insight into both your professional and personal life. I live in Canada and I have a question.
I would like to simply be cremated in a cardboard box without embalming. Is this possible? How can I ensure my wishes?
If you could address this question on your blog, I would really appreciate it.

Now, I don't know the rules there in the land above, but I do know them here, and I would imagine they are a lot the same, and to be sure I called up a funeral home in Vancouver to ask a question or two, and I was right.

If one wants to be cremated, and there is no viewing of the body, there is no reason to embalm the remains.  Instead, the remains are refrigerated, so as to slow down their decomposition, and then cremated when the proper documents are filed and the cremation is approved.  Into a cardboard box the remains will go, and into a retort (mortuary term!) and viola! the cremation begins.  Now, in order to ensure that your wishes to be cremated (directly, without viewing) are followed, you need to pre-arrange your cremation with a local funeral home, and then let your family know that you have done so, so that they don't call the wrong place when you die, and make unnecessary (and unwanted) arrangements. It would also be a good idea to prepay for the services, as most mortuaries will offer a guaranteed price when you pre-pay.

Is that sufficient? Would you like me to email you some mortuaries' contact info in your area?

Eight things

1. A 500 pound dead person is very large. Not to mention hard to lift into a casket.
We got a large one this week. VERY large. Like size 60 pants. Anyhoo, he ended up taking three tanks of fluid (each tank is about three gallons), and luckily (as with a lot of over-sized people) was on some sort of blood thinner before he died, so the fluid pushed through quite nicely.

2. When the office smells like marijuana nobody will fess up to being the culprit.
Not really sure what to say about this one, but the place stunk for a bit this morning.

3. Turns out that it is always better when someone leaves a suicide note.
We had two (that's right, two) self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head cases this week, neither one of which left a note, which means the authorities have more work to do to prove it was a suicide, which can make life even more difficult for an already distraught family. Imagine finding out your husband/wife/child/parent has died, then add them seizing your phone, computer, mail, bank records, etc., to investigate you in their death. Not fun.

4. The office staff do a great job of singing “Happy Birthday”
My birthday is coming up, and the boss and one of the co-workers won't be here tomorrow, so they sang to me this morning. It was nice, and we don't do that for each other normally, but I always make cupcakes for the staff on their birthday, and I think it's their way of appreciating me on my day like I do on theirs.

5. Not everyone I expected to be at my 30th birthday party is going to be there. Actually, the people I expected are the ones not showing up.
Kind of bummed about this one, especially since it's a major milestone, but I'm gonna have fun anyway, and am excited about seeing my old roommate from college whom I haven't seen in a couple of years. She's flying in from New Jersey.

6. Moving into a new apartment is a pain in the ass, especially with a full-time job and a small child.
Not really anything to say about that, except that I found my own place and have moved out of the hubby's apartment.

7. When we get wrong numbers at the funeral home, they can be quite funny.
Call went like this:
Monica: Happy Days Mortuary, this is Monica!
Caller: Yes, hi, I would like to speak with someone in your Parts Department.
Monica: Excuse me?
Caller: Yes, Parts Department please?
Monica: Sir, this is a funeral home.
Caller: I can hold.
*puts him on hold and starts laughing hysterically.  Like the kind of laughing that makes one pee their pants. Finally stops crying from laughing so hard and tells me what happened. I laugh and ask if she wants me to take the call. she says yes. I pick up the phone*
Me: This is Doll, can I help you?
Caller: Yeah, hi, I was calling to get your prices on (some word I don't remember) fibers. Can you help me with a quote on that?
Me: Sir, You have called a funeral home (I'm speaking slowly at this point, figuring that a prank caller would have given up by now, and this guy must be hard of hearing or retarded).  Are you trying to reach *name of company that we get calls for all the time*?
Caller: Yes, isn't that you?
Me: No, sir, this is a FUNERAL HOME.
Caller: *laughs* Oh, I'm sorry to have bothered you.
Me: Oh, it's no bother, have a nice day!
Caller: Thanks, you too.

8. It is not easy to get lip prints from a dead lady.
There's a company that makes jewelry from thumb prints.  The stuff is awesome (and I think it's even cool to do for a non-dead person, like a baby or pet) and we sell quite a few of them.  This week however, we had a family that wanted something made from their mother's lip print.  We explained that it wouldn't come out looking like a kiss, as mom couldn't pucker any longer, and they were fine with that, so we spent the better part of an hour trying to get prints from this lady's mouth.  Oddly enough, the jewelry company had run into the same request before.