I love my job

I'm not too sure how I should introduce the events of this past weekend. Usually I try to give some background information first, but this time I think it might be better if I just spit the point out first, then maybe that'll uncover a more detailed analysis.

So, Dennis, or "The Cable Guy" as I probably referred to him in earlier posts, was up in South Dakota at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally last week. Thursday night, at approximately 11 o'clock, his harley struck a deer that jumped out of the ditch beside the road. He was thrown from the bike and was rushed to a small hospital, and immediately getting there, he was life-flighted to a larger hospital in Rapid City where he later died early Friday morning. After a sharp, hard blow to the head, he had lost consciousness, never regained consciousness, and later slipped into a coma before finally dying after an attempted life-saving operation to remove pressure from the brain. How did I know thats what the doctors wanted to do? Well...This is where I go into further detail.

I was spending the night with Buck when he received the terrible news alittle after 5AM Friday. While I headed to work a couple hours later (early, because I couldn't just stand around doing nothing at home) Buck went to Dennis' house to console and be consoled. He was considered to be the son that Dennis never had, and Buck looked to him as a more prominent and dependable Father figure. Buck called me while I was already halfway to the funeral home and told me that the family wanted me to help with the arrangements. I was honored and terrified at the same time. Dennis had told me on July 4th that if something were to happen, he wanted me to take care of him and his family. It was like he knew. I remember him being responsible in some way or another for many of my special moments with Buck, whether it was inviting both of us to his house for a party, or needing us to run back to a bar in the middle of nowhere to pick up some signs. So even though he was a man I didn't know too well, he was a genuine, down-to-earth father and husband and a great guy who made such a huge impression on everybody he met.

So time came to receive his body from the airport and finally find out what sort of condition he was in. Obviously, the embalmers in South Dakota had something else on their mind, or were really rushed, because they completely forgot about the huge incision stretching from the back of his neck to right above his eyebrows. The doctors had made the incision and then stapled it together. A GOOD embalmer, practicing common sense, would remove the staples and restitch the damn incision. They were obviously not GOOD embalmers. And the pressure from the flight made it so much worse. I won't go into great detail, but it was obviously a half-ass job. The other funeral director and I stayed till midnight pulled out all the staples and surgical rags from incision, and when we got all that cleared out, we noticed that the doctors didn't even put the skull cap back in place. They had obviously sawed half the skull cap off to relieve pressure from the ruptured and expanding brain, but didn't even think to return it to its proper place. So in effect, there was nothing keeping all the gushy brain matter from leaking out. I've never seen an embalmed brain...or touched one...it was so neat. Then I remembered it was Dennis and I got pissed off again. I had to suture the incision back together which took about an hour. We cleaned him off and repaired some other half ass sutures and in the end, he looked 100% better. I dressed him the next morning in his usual Harley Davidson attire and his family and closest friends came a little later to view him. They were so overwhelmed at how good he looked, as they were expecting much worse.

I have to admit, and I feel alittle guilty for enjoying this so much, but it's a real ego boost to have so many strangers come up to me after the funeral service and thank me for what I did. I was honored to help and I'm just grateful that everything worked out well. The family had a party after the service which I missed because I had to go back to work, but Buck called me and told me that everyone was asking about me. So when I finally showed up to have a couple beers with the family, I was so surprised at how many people knew who I was! I'll never forget how it felt to have a big biker guy strut over to me and say "Cara, I've heard so much about you. I just have to give you a hug!"

Sometimes it's not so easy to say this, but I love my job.