Down Among the Dead Men_ A Year in the Life of a Mortuary Technician - Michelle Williams [88]
The final straw was when Clive mentioned it to Ed one morning. He was just finishing an autopsy on a drug addict who had been found in a cleaning cupboard on one of the campuses of the local university. He perked up immediately when Clive asked him loudly and well within my earshot if he agreed that I ought to sit the exam for the certificate. ‘Of course she should!’ he said at once. He turned to me and, waving the brain knife around as he is wont to do, told me, ‘I’ll get you through, no mistake.’
I felt backed into a corner but for once, instead of being stubborn for the sake of it, I sighed and said, ‘OK.’ Deep down I knew I had no choice on this one.
When he said he’d get me through it, I didn’t really appreciate what Ed had in mind. Over the next few weeks, he kept on at me remorselessly. The first thing he did was to go through the ‘red book’ – this is the mortuary technician’s bible, containing as it does all you need to know about the principles of running a mortuary, including the laws that govern us, the paperwork that has to be done, the special arrangements for different faiths and lots, lots more – and make me read a chapter every two or three days, then test me on what I had read. I didn’t do too badly on that, but then he moved on to the anatomy and physiology.
He got hold of a simple anatomy book and went through each of the organ systems – respiratory, cardiovascular, nervous, urinary, genital, etc – making revision notes for me. At the same time, I got hold of old exam papers and at least twice a week I would do one of them under exam conditions and he would mark it. He and I then went through them and he tried to teach me on the questions that I got wrong. When we ran out of legitimate papers, he made them up. Because part of the paper is multiple choice and part of it is an essay-type question, he did both types.
There were times when I think he got a bit annoyed with me. Although I know plenty enough anatomy to do my job, I found the more obscure bits and bobs about it – the stuff I figured I would never actually need to know in a million years – difficult to hang on to, but then that’s me all over; if I don’t see the reason for knowing something, then I don’t remember it. It’s as simple as that. Which, I suppose, was why I didn’t have too much trouble with the questions about the stuff that I actually do consider important, such as the paperwork and procedures you have to have in place so that there isn’t chaos in the mortuary.
‘But that’s not the point,’ said Ed, not quite banging his head against the wall, but close to it. ‘It’s a game you have to play, Michelle.’
‘It’s a stupid game,’ I told him, and I meant it.
‘Yes,’ he agreed tiredly. ‘But in order to get that piece of paper and make your CV look good, you have to play.’
So we went on and on. Sometimes I thought I was making good progress, but then I’d make a really dumb mistake and feel very dispirited about how it was going. A few weeks in was a particularly bad time when I answered a question Ed had set about the circulation of blood.
‘It’s a good answer,’ he said as he handed it back to me the next day. I was about to congratulate myself and be all modest about it when he added, ‘Unfortunately, it wasn’t the answer to the question I asked.’
I stared at him. ‘What do you mean? Yes, it was. You asked about the circulation and that’s what I’ve written about.’
‘The question asked you to describe the coronary circulation.’
‘And?’
‘You’ve talked about the circulation of blood in general.’ I still didn’t quite see, so he explained. ‘The coronary circulation is purely the blood supply of the heart. The three arteries and the venous system on the surface of the heart muscle.’
At this, I felt about two inches high. He tried to cheer me up. ‘Never mind. At least you’ve done some revision