Down Among the Dead Men_ A Year in the Life of a Mortuary Technician - Michelle Williams [7]
From here, at the back of the pathology building, you can see loads of staff walking about, but they don’t really see you. It’s as though this place is completely ignored – a blind spot or something that they would rather not think existed – or maybe people are just not aware of it. We went for a little stroll around the car park. ‘So you can get your bearings,’ Graham said. We didn’t get very far, as Graham knew so many members of staff that he spoke to everyone we met; he had worked at the hospital for years and years, first as a driver before joining the mortuary. He introduced me to everyone, but I knew I would never remember them all, and I thought it would take a few weeks till I got my bearings.
After our break, we returned to the post-mortem room and Graham stitched up the lower half of Mr Evans’ torso, leaving the top half open so he could put the organs back when Dr Burberry had finished with them. He removed the wooden block from under Mr Evans and rested his head on it. Taking a scalpel, Graham then cut behind Mr Evans’ right ear and ran the blade around the back of his head to end behind the left ear. He informed me that it was important to make this incision on the head as low as possible. The reason for this is that if a family want to view the deceased after a post-mortem, the lower the incision on the head, the less likely it will be seen as it will be nestling on the pillow. Apparently, the technicians have lots of little such ploys to hide things from people. I thought it was good that Graham had thoughts for the family of Mr Evans, although it somehow made it all feel very real.
Graham then began to retract Mr Evans’ scalp from his skull. This is not an easy thing to do, because the skull and the scalp do not come apart readily; in fact, Graham got even redder in the face than usual as he folded the scalp back to cover Mr Evans’ face. After he had loosened the scalp from behind the ears, he then took a wide wedge of the skull off with an electric rotating saw to expose the brain; this he then removed by sliding his fingers between the brain and the forehead bone, then gently pulling it so that he could put a scalpel under the brain. I asked what he was doing and he explained that he was cutting through a fibrous membrane that held the cerebellum in place, and then severing the cranial nerves and the spinal cord. Having done this, he withdrew the scalpel and pulled out the brain with frightening ease and nonchalance.
Dr Burberry arrived shortly after this. Graham had been telling me that Dr Burberry is the lead pathologist for the department, so he takes the rap for the whole of the department when things go wrong, and has the responsibility for the mortuary. Graham was proud of the fact that he felt he had a normal relationship with Dr Burberry; as he put it, ‘One that two human beings should have. We can talk openly, but we both know where the levels of respect lie.’ I was intrigued to see what Dr Burberry was going to be like; Clive had spoken highly of him too.
Dr Ed Burberry gave off the aura of a very important person. Of average height and stature, he was in his mid-forties and very well spoken. I could see instantly why he was in charge. He wasn’t what I was expecting at all, because he looked relatively normal and not at all the snooty professorial type. He greeted us both with, ‘Good morning,’ and once again, I felt out of my depth, as if maybe I should be cleaning the toilets or something. How was I ever going to be able to hold a conversation with somebody so highly qualified? I suddenly found myself staring at Graham and wondering how this was going to progress. Never had I imagined being in a situation like this. Me, a normal female (except that, OK, I was one with an interest that a lot of people