As lab tech students, we got to observe an autopsy, and that was truly fascinating, too - I mean, I knew from anatomy that we had all these parts in our body, but you don’t get a true idea of what an incredibly piece of machinery a human body is until you see it opened up like that. And then the pathologist pretended to throw an organ at us…
The parts that come off in surgery and go to histotechnology are also fascinating. Except the breasts. The breasts were mostly just containers (sometimes pails) of gross yellow fat tissue.
He died at the hospital; Mom kept staring at him doing this sort of low wailing noise, she’d look to us for a moment when we talked to her but go back to staring at him. So I turned the top of the bedsheet over. Beat Dad’s best friend to it, he was making the gesture to do the same… irishgirl, I haven’t read all the thread, but I’ve been told stories by friends who were in Med School at the time of locating parts that were particularly difficult (and therefore favorites of the Anatomy teachers) and snipping them out, so that when they asked “find me the nervius minimus anteroposterioris sinistrus” (name taken out of my anus), they could in truth look at that general area and say “sir, I do not find it”.
The teachers could only ask for a limited number of items, and they couldn’t say “ok, look for it in the corpse next table.”
Oh: in Spain, the bodies used for Anatomy lessons aren’t returned to the families. They stay around for as long as they’re deemed usable, then they get buried.
The Anatomy lessons include, when possible, minimal cutting-off (the bits should still be there so the teachers can ask about them during finals!). “Cut-up” Anatomy isn’t done until they start rotations (the rotation for Forensic Patology includes assisting in autopsies).
Spanish dentists aren’t a different professions. They’re MDs, specialty “stomatologist”; so they do the same Anatomy practices as the rest.
When I was about seven or eight, my priest’s father died and we went to the funeral home to pay respects. I had never met the deceased and the whole thing was a little weird for me.
But, curious child that I was, I went up to the casket and looked at him. He looked like a sculpture. I touched his hand.
I was horrified. I burst into tears and wouldn’t go back in the room. He was a man, but he was cold. I felt absolutely sick. My mom told me I was being stupid because I didn’t even know the guy, but it was more a matter of being struck with a sudden understanding of death. How a man can really, truly, leave his body and how a body can become just… this cold, stiff thing
Yes, but not today.
As a nurse, I’ve had adult codes who didn’t make it, newborn codes that didn’t make it, fetal demises, and those born alive with lethal anomolies that need comfort care until they’re gone.
I see preparing bodies as a way to serve that baby for a little while longer. Letting the families say good-bye, preserving dignity and memory for the brief time they were here.
I’m glad I didn’t have to do that today, though.
Well, it’s possible. My grandparents died on the other side of the country and we didn’t go to their funerals. My stepfather died on the other other side of the country (I has switched sides by then) and I tried to make it to his funeral but didn’t. As far as I can recall, none of my friends or even schoolchums died while I was around to hear about it.
Maybe it’s just that I don’t know people very well. But I guess my remaining aunts can’t live forever…time will tell.
I don’t have an aversion, but I am worried about what to wear.
By the way, Terrifel, I just love this quote of yours from the other thread: Also, let us not forget that if America ever strays from the path of Ceremonial Deism, we risk incurring the wrath of the Ceremonial Deity, who will smite us all with a sternly worded letter of formal censure.
Thanks, bluethree! I’ve attended a few funerals in my time, but I wouldn’t presume to offer any sort of fashion advice for such an occasion. I’m fortunate in that everyone in my family is just as big a slob as I am, so that particular anxiety really isn’t there for me. The relatives see no real point of wearing fancy clothes to a funeral when they’re just going to get soaked with beer afterward. The clothes, I mean. But also the relatives.
Anyway, if you ever do learn to safely harness your immortality powers, please let me know.
Many times. Touched, wrapped, toe tagged. I’ve had the ultimate honor in providing comfort care to many dying patients. I say honor because it truly is. To witness the passing of life into death is a unique experience.
Most times I didn’t witness it but still provided the after care.
I have. When my MIL passed in our home. We were her caregivers for almost 6 years, I was very accustomed to touching her body. Every crevice, every fold. As a stroke survivor she had a lot of parts that required propping or splints, wedges or pillows. By the end it almost seemed her every part required something. It was uncomfortable for her to be moved and rearranged, propped, splinted etc, but it had to be done so she would be comfortable throughout the day.
When she passed, I first closed her eyes, then put a rolled up facecloth under her chin to keep her mouth closed. Then I proceeded to remove all of the splints, props, wedges and pillows. I’m still not sure why, she wasn’t in any discomfort anymore. Perhaps I just needed to see her at peace without all the constant reminders of her disabilities. I didn’t just remove them, I put them entirely out of sight. And she did look very peaceful. I kissed her and held her hand for a long, long time. And I spoke to her at length.
I refused to let them come for her for at least 8 hrs, partly my Buddhist beliefs and partly I just didn’t want to let her go. 8hrs brought us to after 10pm, I was secretly hoping they’d say they couldn’t come then and leave her overnight, but that’s not how it works .The time flew by. It was extremely disconcerting to surrender her body. I had fussed and creamed and massaged and caressed that body for so long. It was almost unbearable to watch them take her from my home.
And it seemed as the time neared for them to come I could not stop touching her.
Had a lady die in my arms when I was the first on the scene of a car accident. Another time I gave a drunken snowmobiler CPR for 45 minutes, and then helped load him into the body bag and load him up into the ambulance.