Tuesday, October 04, 2005


Well, I don't have to worry about humiliating myself by relaying my Saturday escapades with Dead Guy to people at work.

Why? Because when I was driving home from the grocery store tonight I got a call from my boss, Nancy.

I answer the phone, "Hey, lady boss. How are ya?"

"Shitty." (It's a quote, Mom.) "I dropped a body and I can't get him up."

"You mean he's fallen and he can't get up?" I snigger.

"Uh..yeah." Nancy obviously has no sense of humor right now. "Is there any way you can come over here and help me?"

I lament the melting ice cream in my trunk. "Sure. No problem. Give me five minutes."

I sigh as I get off the phone and turn the car around.

When I get to the MEO I flash the magnetic strip of my ID card across a security pad to open the bay door. I walk through the receiving area and onto the hated ramp that leads to the autopsy suite/cooler. Nancy is there at the bottom along with her charge.

As I assess the situation I quickly note that there is a law of physics that was seriously violated here. I'm not sure which one, but it will definitely be rubbing it's arse for a while after this fiasco.

Dead Guy has an enormous belly and chicken legs. He also weighs upwards of 325 pounds. When you try to maneuver a guy of those proportions down a steep ramp with his hefty end first, well...it's gonna end badly.

Dead Guy is still securely strapped onto the cot. Only the cot is now tipped up on one end so his head is on the floor and his feet are up in the air. Oh, dear.

Nancy's eyes are a little wild. She looks like she's on the brink of doing something unfortunate. She says to me..."There's a lesson here. Don't EVER put the heavy end in front when you're moving a body down this ramp." I try with every fiber of my being not to laugh. Yeah. Just FYI.

First Nancy and I both get up on the foot side of the upturned cot and bounce on the bar between the wheels. No good. Between the two of us we weigh maybe 250 pounds. It doesn't even budge.

Next, we lower the wheels on one side, but because of the angle, the wheels on the heavy side are stuck. The only way to "unstick" them is to put Dead Guy further up on his head and pull the legs of the cot in so that we have him prone on the floor.

This works and now all we have to do is use our brute strength to lift the Dead Guy from the floor to an upright position suitable for transferring him onto a tray. Nancy gets her end up okay, but I am apparently a 98 pound (or so) weakling because I need help getting my end (the feet, no less) up.

I resolve to go to the gym three days a week, at least, and lift weights.

Anyway, we get him up and eventually on the tray. Nancy opens the bag to see what kind of damage was done to Dead Guy after being dropped on his head and then left that way for a half hour, give or take.

His head is rather purple seeing as gravity sent the majority of his deoxygenated blood supply to his head. The good news is there is no visible head fracture, though he did bite into his tongue...which resulted in some external bleeding.

Nancy is positively distraught. "Great. Dr. Frank is going to love hearing about this. 'Um... Dr. Frank, you may find some head trauma...just...you know... It's postmortem so... No big deal, right?'"

I laugh despite myself. "Nancy, are you being sarcastic?" She appears to want to hit me, but I poke the angry bear despite my better judgement. "Hey, I don't see him complaining." She narrows her eyes.

I decide to give some sage advice. "Nancy, we are all going to drop bodies in life...It's what you do AFTER you drop the body that determines the kind of person you are."

I run before I get smacked upside the head.


Kibby F5 said...

Cool! Another story that starts with "Well, I brought in my first body on Saturday", but maybe more along the lines of "Well, I dropped my first body on Saturday".

... wonder if that could be a good pickup line?

Cap'n Bob Napier said...

Damn, now you're being spammed.

To get back to the subject of fallen bodies, I think when my time comes I'm going to wander deep into the forest and let the animals have me. Somehow, the idea of being manhandled by the Frick and Frack of mortuary services doesn't seem appealing right now. In the event I do drop dead while in the grasp of civilization, I'll try to get my body into better shape. I don't want to be a burden to the corpse handlers of the world, considerate s.o.b. that I am.

Polly P.I. said...

I'd sure want to be a burden to them, boy!

If I were Dead Guy (or Dead Girl, I guess in my case) and I was sitting up on my fluffy white cloud watching that little episode of "I Love Lucy", I'd be laughing my arse off.

Slyeyes said...

I drop dead people.

Sarcasmo said...

Sly - *snork*

They don't know they've been dropped

Jeff Meyerson said...

Polly's words of wisdom, mark 2:

"Nancy, we are all going to drop bodies in life...It's what you do AFTER you drop the body that determines the kind of person you are."

When you think about it, that's where so many murderers go wrong, in life as well as in fiction - what they do with the body after it's dead.

Tamara said...

"Nancy, we are all going to drop bodies in life...It's what you do AFTER you drop the body that determines the kind of person you are."

There are tears in my eyes, I am laughing so hard!

kitty said...

See how others maneuvered a fat dead guy.

Polly P.I. said...


Kitty that is hilarious!

kitty said...


That story was based loosely on a real incident right across the street from where I used to work. The cops & medics didn't resort to such measures to retrieve the body (drug OD), but they did stand in the street discussing how they would and tied up traffic for a while. They started up the stairs first with the gurney & then with the backboard and repeated this process several times before finally deciding.

Mike Weasel said...

I'm pretty sure Caine said that in that old Kung Fu show...

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thor said...

another classic polly quote.

"Nancy, we are all going to drop bodies in life...It's what you do AFTER you drop the body that determines the kind of person you are."

i would love to use it, but somehow i don't think it's so appropriate in my work setting...

Anonymous said...

When you're done laughing your "arse"? off,(Mom's been reading again, hasn't she) let me know how that weight lifting goes. We otta hook up at a Marathon, you remember those, don't you, it's a great way to help run away, from a lot of things, we could be really enthusiastic and run in NY.

cuz said...


I love you!

Kafaleni said...

Arse is just a$$ with a classy British accent.

Because, if it has nothing else, this blog has class. Class and dropped corpses.

Polly P.I. said...

Hey, Molly dolly!

Let's do it! I'm game for one more marathon. Only be warned that I am SLOW. Even the old 80-year-olds kicked my a$$ when I ran my last one.

motw said...

*tap* *tap* *tap* Hello...? Where's Polly gone?! (no pun intended) (well, maybe a teeny one)