Great expectations

Hello everyone, its been a month since I last posted, sorry.   Sometimes I feel I have covered everything here, then every day something new happens and I want to share it with you.   I find myself needing to wait though, to ensure the anonymity of the people I look after.

Do take a moment to watch the film I posted by Briony Campbell.  It is very moving, and in the spirit of Death Cafe , very relevant.  People talking about death is a good thing.  Hard.  But good.

I was horrified when a family member asked to meet me a couple of weeks ago.   It's not something I do very often as I am more of a 'back room staff' kind of girl.  I have no formal training on meeting the families and I am never, ever dressed appropriately for it.   

I telephoned and spoke to him and apologised for my jeans and t-shirt but would be happy to see them in an hour.    He was so sad at the death of his father and wanted to go over a few things that he didn't want for him.  One of those was embalming.

The funeral director had already explained that as various other family members wanted to see Dad, we encourage embalming.  I expanded on this explaining that we want everyone to have the best experience they can, and embalming would ensure this for them.  We both agreed that Dad needed to look peaceful and natural.   We discussed hair washing, shaving, bathing and cleaning nails and the son explained that he had previously had a couple of experiences with chapel visits and they weren't good. ( Not with my company I hasten to add!  )

He didn't want Dad to have swollen features, nor his teeth replaced as he never wore his dentures.   Rather interestingly, Dad wasn't to be dressed in pyjamas, clothes or a gown either.  Just a plain sheet.  Wrapped like a towel out of the bath.    Also, his hands weren't to touch as he had gripped them during his illness, whenever he was in pain.   

We always want to help the families with their requests.  No matter how different they are.   I completely understood his feelings and everyone did their best to ensure every detail was perfect. 

My embalming treatment was a subtle one.  It felt odd not using any colourant, and not replacing teeth, but I managed to get a peaceful look none the less.    Wrapping him in a clean white sheet and placing him in his coffin was easy enough, and the effect was actually quite clinical.  Medical, healing even. Peaceful too.

Viewings occurred later that week, and from what I have been told, everyone was pleased to see him to say their goodbyes.   The immediate family didn't come in, but I hope his son took comfort from knowing we carried out all his wishes, to the letter.  

Death Cafe: The Dad Project

Death Cafe: The Dad Project

A beautiful film made by a brave family.

Just having a peek around the internet

These sites have come into my eye line.    I haven't checked them out completely but thought I would share them with you...

http://morbiddesires.tumblr.com/

http://funeralsauce.tumblr.com/

http://dearlydeparted-.tumblr.com/


Don't leave me...  just have a little extra.  :D

Anyone can do the easy ones.

Pulling back the sheet covering a gentleman I was asked to attend this week,  I let out a huge sigh. 

Purple.  Red.  Swollen. Enough considerations to stimulate the most sleepy of minds, I realised a challenge was before me.   In situations such as these I remember my colleague telling me 'Anyone can do the easy ones'.

I was informed that this man was being viewed the following day, but luckily his funeral was in three days so he didn't have to stay with us too much longer.  The paramount consideration was therefore viewing, ensuring that he looked at peace for his family.   But where to start?

Mr Man had been found after a couple of days of being dead in bed.  It seemed he had died in his sleep but as he lived alone, he wasn't discovered immediately.   The post mortem had been carried out and a natural cause of death established.   I set to work opening the sutures and concentrating on washing him and locating the vessels required for treatment.   Mixing my fluids I chose a usual strength as he was leaving us quite quickly, and the addition of a fluid which is designed to help resist further decomposition.   We can't turn the clock back but we can press pause.   For a short time at least.

After thorough embalming and washing and drying his hair, I dried his face and started to think about what work I could do to cover the discolouration.   Fortunately there was no facial skin slip, where the start of decomposition separates the top layer of the skin and blisters (a little like sunburn).    Some embalmers have access to an air spray cosmetic system.  I have had the opportunity to have a go, and look forward to developing techniques in the future, but for now I use various creams and liquid cosmetics.   I use my gloved hand to mix and develop the colour I need and slowly covered Mr Mans entire face with the chosen blend.

This isn't done with one layer, its a multi layered slow process, changing the palette as I go, adding softer warmer colours in the facial 'hot spots' to create a natural and even skin tone.   This is very hard to do in cases of skin slip because the base isn't there to start with.  Even more impossible immediately following embalming and better to be done when the fluid has had time to fix the tissues.    Eyebrows, lashes and hair lines are cleaned and traces of the cosmetic removed.  This is easier said than done!

Eventually, a tint to the lips completes the overall look and one needs to be satisfied that the deceased doesn't look as if they are wearing make up, or indeed that anything other than their natural self is presented.   Dressing can be a bit of a hassle after cosmetic work, and sometimes it is better that the deceased is dressed  and placed into their coffin prior to cosmetic work being carried out.   I helped place Mr Man into his coffin and when he was placed into the Chapel of Rest with appropriate lighting, I was more than confident that traces of his previous colouring were removed.  He looked at rest and the same as anyone else who resides in our Chapels. 

The family communicated their satisfaction and no one has to know that Mr Man was anything other than how he presented that day.   His last face to them was one of peace and rest.

Ally Sheedys character in Chris Columbus 1991 film Only the Lonely, cosmetises her clients to resemble famous movie stars!

'What are you doing here, hey Georgina?'

Sudden death always results in a post mortem examination; typically a third of all deaths.   The local coroners officer liaises with the family of the deceased and the Coroner will request a post mortem and follow it up with an inquest if necessary.  

For there to be a cause of death, all organs have to be removed by a mortician and then dissected and examined by a pathologist.   How much of a role the mortician has differs in each medical facility.  Certainly, the longer serving and better qualified morticians are trusted colleagues of the pathologists and their opinions are well valued.  

Take for example, someone who has died without suspicious circumstances or trauma.  Perhaps they seem to have had a stroke, but because they have no recent history regarding this, a post mortem is required.   The mortician will remove all organs and prepare them for the pathologist.  

This image, taken from Wiki, shows the brain in situ after the back of the cranium has been removed.  

The brain is removed by the mortician and placed ready for the pathologist to dissect to assist in ascertaining the cause of death.

The pathologist confirms the cause of death (probably from a clot in the brain but don't ask me how, I have no idea) and the mortician can now replace all organs back into the trunk.  The brain is also placed into the abdominal cavity as it is completely unhygienic and impractical to attempt replacement in the cranium. Cotton wool is placed in the cranium, throat area and pelvic bowl and the incisions, both trunk and skull, are sutured to return the deceased to a dignified and complete state.

The hair is washed and dried and the body is also washed, dried and dressed in a shroud.  This is usually a plain white cotton 'kaftan' style garment which easily and respectfully clothes the deceased.  

So, now its my turn.

I am unable to embalm from one point as the circuit of blood vessels has been broken by the removal of organs and dissection of tissues.  I must reopen the sutures, clean and treat the organs, dispose of the cotton wool and replace with fresh.  I intubate each main vessel individually in order to send the fluids to the tissues.   To embalm each leg, buttock and sections of the trunk and lower sections of the back I must locate the iliac arteries and intubate and inject them.   To embalm each arm, chest wall, breast and upper sections of the back I must locate the subclavian arteries and intubate and inject them.  To embalm each side of the face, neck and scalp I must locate the carotid arteries and intubate and inject them.  

The problems with doing this are varied and extensive, too detailed for a blog, but safe to say it doesn't always work as we would hope.   Skills developed over many years still leave an embalmer sweating, trying to find teeny, tiny facial arteries to ensure the jaw and lips and tip of the nose receive adequate fluid.    All of this vessel searching means we lean right into the deceased, desperately trying to achieve good fluid distribution and adequate preservation.

So when my lady in chapel last week was visited by her husband and his opening words were 'What are you doing here, hey Georgina?'   and he completely let go to a relieved sobbing,  the frustration and hard work felt completely worth it.

Are you affected? Yet?

I hope my friend doesn't mind me using her as the subject of this update.   We had drinks on Saturday night and as she is a friend of a friend she wasn't aware of my career.   So it was all the usual questions and she said she would love to read my blog and chat with me more on Facebook.

She read my blog the following day and asked me a question which I don't think I have discussed much on here.

'I'm most curious as to whether what you do has changed how you feel about death and dying.

 Are you less scared of it yourself? Do you feel differently about the deaths of loved ones?'

I am lucky enough to have spent many years in meditation groups. They were also spiritual and self development groups which built on the basics I developed as a child as I was always involved in spiritual debate at home.  So I don't know if I would ever have had a traditional slant on death to be honest. My great great grandmother was a medium and her husband a herbalist. Its in the blood I guess!!!!

I lost a close friend at 16 and close uncle 8 years after that, then grandparents and older friends so with each loss came a general understanding that we return to the source when our time here is spent.  My friends first funeral ever was her fathers, how awful is that? Never experiencing a loss until it was one which would leave her so raw. Almost torturous. I am so very grateful of my life experiences in that way.

So,  I look at my deceased and know they are not here. This body is a car we drive until we move to another way of transport. The fact that we look after it whilst we drive it means that I will also look after it, so that people that knew the external features can wave it off if they so desire. But inside, that is our essence and our true self. I find it hard to see it as something final, so yes, I do think my work changes the way I view loss. But its about so much more than my job. When my dear uncle died, I remember looking up into the sky during his funeral, wondering where he was and if he had finally let go. He was very cross you see, and I know dying was a painful experience for him.   How we die is probably more of a fear for me, how people I love will die. Rather than the fact that I cant be with them on earth.


I would love to know if reading this blog has changed any of your positions on death, dying and funerals dear reader.  Please let me know.   Also, is there anything you would like me to discuss on here that we haven't touched on yet, or would like expanded?  

The first cut is the deepest

I recently got to thinking about the very first funeral I attended.  

My maternal great grandfather had suffered with lung cancer but I am not sure of his age when he finally passed.  Maybe he was in his early seventies or so.  I was 11 and my little sister was 8.  I know our ages for certain as it was my sisters 8th birthday.  Poor sis...    Often on a Saturday afternoon I went to our local football ground with Gramps and of late, he had been in a wheelchair so we got to stand pitch side and pass the ball back to the footballers (with their hunky chunky thighs, sorry I digress).   Gramps was always in a tie and hat, common in men who were brought up in the early part of the 20th Century.   A true cockney, he was always smart, immaculate, friendly and a gentleman.   He adored all the ladies in his life; his wife, daughter, granddaughter and great granddaughters. 

My mum, grandmother, sister and friend and I arrived in my nan's VW camper at Gramps' home in time to go to football.  We pulled up at their home to find an ambulance was parked out side.  My nan looked at my mum and said 'Oh Angela, no!'   I'll never forget the face she made and the fear in her voice.   It was my very first experience of anything remotely traumatic and has burned its way into my brain for always.    'Girls, stay in the van'.  They exited the van and dashed into the house.   After a short while, they returned, ashen, and told us that he had died.    I don't remember what they said, or how they said it.   The facts were that he was visiting the toilet to make ready to leave with us for football and he just died.   My great grandmother, Nancy, found him and called the ambulance. 

We all went back into the house and I remember walking past the toilet and feeling so sad.  I was probably crying, I cry at everything and if memory serves, I cried constantly at his death.   We went into the lounge and I marvelled at seeing his hat, a titfer, and leather gloves placed neatly on the sofa, ready for him to put on for football.   Nancy was very kind to my sister and I but I can't remember what she said.  

Gramps left his home in a wooden coffin placed in a hearse as that was how people were removed from home in those days.    I think I prefer it to the nowadays option of a stretcher and a van.

My parents asked my sister and I if we wanted to attend his funeral which was nearly a fortnight later because of the Easter holidays, and we decided that we would like to attend.   Gramps' coffin was covered in purple material.  I kid you not.   Like a quilt, purple and itchy looking with a cross cross diamond pattern.    I remember Nancy telling me that I wasn't to cry unless I saw her cry but that did me no good whatsoever and I sobbed constantly despite me trying to focus on her and her lace hanky she was wrining. 

My paternal grandmother took charge of me and told my folks she would wait at the back of the chapel with me but by the time we went to take our place, the chapel was full and they started filling in the places to the side of the coffin!   Can you believe it?!  Right at the front, next to Gramps in his purple quilted coffin!  For me to sob and sob and sob some more, right at the front!

In front of everyone!