Fangs for the memory (From Bucks Free Press)

Fangs for the memory

2:59pm Monday 8th March 2010

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It was the oddest of requests. But one that was perfectly understandable. - People do make mistakes; Get used to it.

Let me explain...

At handover Tubby had said that everything seemed quiet and A&E was empty and all was well with the world. - I trusted his judgement in the same way that you would take a stranger off the street and ask him to perform brain-surgery on a loved one. (He would say the same about me, so things are equal). - His 2-10 shift had gone well and he wished me luck as he headed out the door and off to the Pub, leaving me in charge.

As it turned out, after the first round of locking-up it did indeed seem that all was well. At that time we used to have a little security clock which, when keyed, recorded the time & date. The idea being that at various points throughout the hospital there were (fixed to the wall with industrial-sized bolts) a series of little cabinets with flip-up lids and a little key handily affixed to a secured chain; whereby one could take the Security-Clock, insert the key-on-a-chain and record the time you had been there and thus prove to the satisfaction of ‘Da’ Management’’, and their desire to know exactly what we got up to during the course of a night. The clock came in a reinforced leather case which could be carried with an adjustable strap for length and carrying comfort.

Rules being rules we bowed down to them. Although it is interesting to note that sometime after the clock was introduced it mysteriously stopped working. Apparentley, sand or some such substance got into the workings of the clock.

None of which is really relevant to the Oddest request, so...

This night I had Padds and Rich. Padds was a God-Fearing man from Ireland, and Rich was a laid-back, nice fellow. So after the first security round all three of us converged on the Lodge to have a cup of tea, coffee or, in some cases, a nip from a flask. We used to have an old cassette player and some of us would bring in a few tapes to while away the hours, CDs had yet to be invented. Rich was in good humour and accepted the choice of music with good grace as I hit the play button. Padds smiled to himself and settled down with his notes. - He liked to write did Padds. I have no idea to this day what it was he actually wrote – various rumours had emerged over the years; the most likely being Scripture verses that came to mind as he read other parts of the Good Book. And read it he did. Furthermore he Knew it, he could quote a verse or two that would be relevant to any situation. Throughout the years I knew him he always scribbled away in tiny notebooks, peering short-sightedly. I remember him with some fondness, the dear chap is deceased now and sadly missed. He was a Good man.

Rich was wading through a novel and settled down into one of the armchairs that had accumulated over the years; I digress.

A slow night can bring about conversation or sleep. For Rich it meant the latter and he sought out a cosy corner. He was within easy reach and would hear the phone ringing should Padds or I be away. He also carried a bleep, just in case.

The phone eventually rang at about 1am. The call was from the fifth floor and requested the help to take a patient to Rose Cottage. Padds said he would help out.

Body collection was never on my mind when I had applied for the job, it had been mentioned but glossed over as though it was such a rare occurrence that was hardly worth a mention. We all got used to it and as far as possible dealt with it and, it must be stated, in all cases dignity and respect were paramount.

Having said that there are moments when Happen-stance just ..happens, and nothing in life can legislate for it.

– Take, for example the case of the gentleman who, through reasons of his own safety had to be buckled into a wheeled chair and had slumped forward and expired. Due to his bulk, in all directions, it was impossible to release the buckle and remove him from the chair. Even when this arduous task had been accomplished it posed the problem of fitting a large chap into a not so large refrigerator. Even so, dignity and respect remained. As best we could.

Anyway, back to the night in question..

We went off to the mortuary to pick up the trolley and took the lift up to the floor. The body was easy to handle and we made good time in getting back down to the mortuary and transferring the body into the fridge. Another job done and we settled back to chat about this and that and waited out our time for the night. Apart from a call for a cot side at three(ish) nothing much happened.

Then I got The 'Odd' request.

It was the same Staff Nurse who had told us of the Body. And now she had another problem and wondered if we could ...help?

...

And so it was I found myself trying to prise a pair of false-teeth from the mouth of a corpse at five-o-clock one damp November morning.

I did not enjoy the experience and will not dwell on it. Upon retrieval I returned them to the Staff Nurse who in turn (after a throrough cleaning) returned them to the rightful owner – the little old lady who had had them beside her bed in a covered glass where they had been assumed by a hapless Student Nurse to be the property of the deceased patient. She had scooped them out and put them into the mouth of the deceased.

Luckily the Staff Nurse had spotted the mistake before the true owner of the teeth had woken.

When I delivered the breakfast trolley around seven, she was sat up in bed beaming with toothy delight in anticipation of buttered toast and without, I hope, any knowledge of the adventure her teeth had had without her.