Read Online Down Among the Dead Men by Michelle Williams - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Williams
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you?’ he asked with that half-smile I was starting to know
so well. I guess the fact that I was ashen and holding my breath at intervals to stop myself heaving gave the game away.
I was embarrassed, and thought this would be the end of my career as a Medical Technical Officer, but when, after ten minutes, I returned to the dissection room feeling slightly more in control
of my breakfast, I was received by Graham and Dr Burberry with great compassion. This was not a job for the faint-hearted, and they both knew that. This was a job that, given a small amount of
bravery and acceptance, becomes a day-to-day occurrence that you can get used to.
I went home that evening, collapsed on the sofa after our evening dog walk, and drifted off to sleep. I was woken suddenly by a dream of the decomposed body getting up off the table and coming
out of the PM room to get me, maggots and all. I spent an hour that night after I woke thinking about whether I was going to return to the morgue the next day, as this did freak me out. But, me
being me, curiosity got the better of my misgivings and I was back there at seven forty the next morning ready for the kettle clicking to tell me that it had boiled.
THIRTEEN
The smell had not died down the following day, but as I was let in I had a pleasant surprise: Clive presented me with a bunch of keys. After nine weeks or so I had earned the
right to my very own set. Clive sat me down with a coffee and explained the importance of owning a set of keys to the hospital mortuary. This was big business to him, a sort of ceremony, and I
finally felt part of the team. I also felt extremely chuffed that I had been given this responsibility so early into my new role, but scared at the same time. What, precisely, did this mean? I was
about to be told.
I was aware that the mortuary had an on-call procedure, but that was all I did know; this state of ignorance was about to change, though, as I was going to be informed about everything you need
to know to do on-call and be asked to participate. I had been led to believe that it was usual practice for a technician to be given a three-month trial period to see if they and the managers were
happy with their progress; only then, if everyone was satisfied, were they expected to join the on-call rota. In my case, two months or so down the line and I was already being given my own set of
keys to the department (only three sets existed in total) and being asked to come on to the rota. I had obviously made progress without realizing it.
Clive went on tell me how he was impressed by my attitude: the fact that I had returned after the retired GP episode apparently proved that I had what it takes. I could not say at the time that
I agreed with this, but it meant a chance to prove myself so I was not about to argue. Clive went on to explain what my responsibilities would be when I was on call. After the mortuary was closed
in the evening at four thirty, the switchboard would have my mobile number, and they would call me if I was needed. This would involve viewings of the deceased out of working hours if families
requested it which, at that time, could be any time of the night. The policy has since changed (thank goodness) to a couple of hours added on to the end of the working day.
He went on to say, and at the time it was news to me but I soon became fully aware of it, that the public perception of a mortuary is that it is manned 24/7. This is understandable as the main
hospital is staffed twenty-four hours a day and you would not expect a ward to be left unstaffed. He went on to tell me about how he had often been called out at ‘stupid o’clock’
in the morning for the family of a deceased relative who arrived drunk and then decided that they had changed their minds when they arrived. When we meet a family, we take them into the
relatives’ waiting area, and when we are ready, they are invited into the viewing room to spend some time with the
so well. I guess the fact that I was ashen and holding my breath at intervals to stop myself heaving gave the game away.
I was embarrassed, and thought this would be the end of my career as a Medical Technical Officer, but when, after ten minutes, I returned to the dissection room feeling slightly more in control
of my breakfast, I was received by Graham and Dr Burberry with great compassion. This was not a job for the faint-hearted, and they both knew that. This was a job that, given a small amount of
bravery and acceptance, becomes a day-to-day occurrence that you can get used to.
I went home that evening, collapsed on the sofa after our evening dog walk, and drifted off to sleep. I was woken suddenly by a dream of the decomposed body getting up off the table and coming
out of the PM room to get me, maggots and all. I spent an hour that night after I woke thinking about whether I was going to return to the morgue the next day, as this did freak me out. But, me
being me, curiosity got the better of my misgivings and I was back there at seven forty the next morning ready for the kettle clicking to tell me that it had boiled.
THIRTEEN
The smell had not died down the following day, but as I was let in I had a pleasant surprise: Clive presented me with a bunch of keys. After nine weeks or so I had earned the
right to my very own set. Clive sat me down with a coffee and explained the importance of owning a set of keys to the hospital mortuary. This was big business to him, a sort of ceremony, and I
finally felt part of the team. I also felt extremely chuffed that I had been given this responsibility so early into my new role, but scared at the same time. What, precisely, did this mean? I was
about to be told.
I was aware that the mortuary had an on-call procedure, but that was all I did know; this state of ignorance was about to change, though, as I was going to be informed about everything you need
to know to do on-call and be asked to participate. I had been led to believe that it was usual practice for a technician to be given a three-month trial period to see if they and the managers were
happy with their progress; only then, if everyone was satisfied, were they expected to join the on-call rota. In my case, two months or so down the line and I was already being given my own set of
keys to the department (only three sets existed in total) and being asked to come on to the rota. I had obviously made progress without realizing it.
Clive went on tell me how he was impressed by my attitude: the fact that I had returned after the retired GP episode apparently proved that I had what it takes. I could not say at the time that
I agreed with this, but it meant a chance to prove myself so I was not about to argue. Clive went on to explain what my responsibilities would be when I was on call. After the mortuary was closed
in the evening at four thirty, the switchboard would have my mobile number, and they would call me if I was needed. This would involve viewings of the deceased out of working hours if families
requested it which, at that time, could be any time of the night. The policy has since changed (thank goodness) to a couple of hours added on to the end of the working day.
He went on to say, and at the time it was news to me but I soon became fully aware of it, that the public perception of a mortuary is that it is manned 24/7. This is understandable as the main
hospital is staffed twenty-four hours a day and you would not expect a ward to be left unstaffed. He went on to tell me about how he had often been called out at ‘stupid o’clock’
in the morning for the family of a deceased relative who arrived drunk and then decided that they had changed their minds when they arrived. When we meet a family, we take them into the
relatives’ waiting area, and when we are ready, they are invited into the viewing room to spend some time with the
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