One lovely summers Sunday
I'd been working the usual Sunday shift at the pub, there were usually at least a hundred or so octogenarians who came in, sit in the back, listen to a group of semi-talented hacks play Jazz for a few hours and bitched about the price of mild increasing in price.

Somewhat amazingly, this story does not involve one of the also octogenarian band members blowing a little hard on his trumpet and dying ala Tommy Cooper, more what was happening when cleaning up after the unusually busy Dinner Shift.

Terry was a lovely guy, one of those people who would genuinely do anything to help anyone, even if it meant pushing himself beyond his own limits that had been set by his doctor on numerous occasions on account of his failing heart.

He took a job cleaning with us, being a sizable pub there were always two cleaners who doubled up as kitchen hands and to make ends meet at home it seemed like his best option. Running the cellar as I did, I always made sure he was never overly exerting himself, especially as he was quite open about his problems and always strived to do absolutely fucking everything there was to be done.

Anyway, I digress...

The band had finished, the kitchen was closed and we were finishing off ready for an afternoon closure. As it was a relatively pleasant day and we lacked any form of a beer garden most people had fucked off, we were getting straight and I was stocking the fridges up ready for the expectedly busy evening shift when the call came.

Terry was finishing the last sink load of washing and had collapsed, the restaurant manger, Michelle, was fortunately fully versed in what to do and went straight to his aid, Alex the duty manager was immediately on the phone to the emergency services, I never felt so fucking hopeless in my life, especially as I'd received the call from the chef about what had happened and his wife had just sat down to wait for his momentary arrival.

The range of emotions experienced at this point were too varied to recall precisely, panic, shock, pity, all mixed in there with an overwhelming sense of uselessness.

It all happened rather quickly from here, the paramedics were fortunately there in mere minutes and had gone up-stairs and Terry's wife had no fucking idea what had gone on, fortunately realising she was there, Alex dove down, say with her and explained what had happened.

This was dutifully relayed to the paramedic via another member of staff while I made the rounds and told the rest of the staff what the situation was.

I've never known that bunch of fuckers to be so quiet.

I went back through to ensure all exits were cleared for the paramedics who I had been informed were getting him onto a stretcher to take him out. A strange sense of relief was felt at this time, if they were taking him on a stretcher then surely all was well for now?

He was carried down on the stretcher, oxygen mask placed over his face, a strange blue tinge on most of his body and eyes limply closed.

A taxi was arranged for his wife and upon leaving, the whole story unfolded.

It appears that he had a heart attack and by the time the paramedics arrived it was too late and he had already passed away. They learned of his wifes presence and to prevent any distress to her, had decided to take him out in this manner and declare him dead on arrival at hospital.

I saw a corpse and never fucking realised it.

Top paras though, one hell of a gesture towards the aggrieved's wife.
( Muns, Wed 5 Mar 2008, 23:50, 2 replies)

Nice one...
...as a rule, paramedics don't always transport dead people - it ties us up from attending other cases and in most jurisdictions a deceased on scene needs to be left where is for the police / coroner. But there are exceptions, including cases such as where the body would be seen by the public and might cause them distress.
I've arrived at hospital a few times with the patient was deceased / died on route. We then need to get them to the hospital mortuary - and so pull the same trick. Face uncovered and oxygen mask on, nobody bats an eyelid as you wheel them past the patients in bed!
I liked the patient recently who asked me to cover his head with a sheet when we took him out to the ambulance "to give my bloody nosy neighbours something to talk about"!!
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Thu 6 Mar 2008, 2:05, closed)

Munsta,
that was beautiful and total props to the 'medics.

Emadex, that made me laugh, even though I'm dying inside.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Thu 6 Mar 2008, 5:47, closed)