Death

[KnightswoodBear]

My mum died when I was 18 from cancer.  From diagnosis to the end was around 8 or 9 months and watching her slowly waste away in that period is something that still haunts me and upsets me 20 years later more than I let on to the people closest to me.

I was with her when she died and I still have nightmares about it.  But on the other hand I'm glad that she wasn't alone.

[Shandon Par]

Some brutal tales but it goes to show how death and how we deal with it forms part of our personalities. When something like this...

8 minutes ago, KnightswoodBear said:

My mum died when I was 18 from cancer. 

happens it can put other things in perspective and gives you a confidence to deal with more mundane stuff with ease. 

[Shandon Par]

Some brutal tales but it goes to show how death and how we deal with it forms part of our personalities. When something like this...

8 minutes ago, KnightswoodBear said:

My mum died when I was 18 from cancer. 

happens it can put other things in perspective and gives you a confidence to deal with more mundane stuff with ease. 

[Vladimir Lennon]

On 7/4/2016 at 11:26 PM, The Hurricane said:

Am I the favourite there aye?

In actually had the conversation with a work colleague. He's a total health freak whereas I'm safely in the ooppoite bracket. He could die before me quite easily though. No scared of it anyway. Life's too short

I worked as a funeral director for 2 years and I can assure you...the ones who live into their 90s are not the health freaks! 

 

Edit: sorry folks, I replied to this comment after only reading the first page. I see there are a lot of serious posts on the following pages. Commiserations to those who have lost. I lost my Nana at the start of the year, and its put a lot of things in perspective. Can't imagine losing a sibling or parent. 

[Netan Sansara]

8 hours ago, Shandon Par said:

Some brutal tales but it goes to show how death and how we deal with it forms part of our personalities. When something like this...

happens it can put other things in perspective and gives you a confidence to deal with more mundane stuff with ease. 

My dad died pretty unexpectedly in his early 50s in November and I'd have to agree with this. It's changed me for the better, don't really care as much about the small stuff and just try and appreciate the good times.

[Shotgun]

On 7/5/2016 at 11:02 AM, Bold Rover said:

Rod de'Ath was Rory Gallagher's drummer. I think Rod's still alive.

Died a couple of years ago, I'm afraid.

[Bold Rover]

Didn't know that, Shotgun. I think that leaves Gerry McAvoy the only survivor from the band.

[Tight minge]

Seen all my grandparents pass away, as well as my father, and both previous father and mother in law as well as many aunts and uncles and been involved in the care and burial of several of them. Within that seen sudden deaths, suicides and prolonged illness and it's hard to work out what the toughest is.

But in all that, my grandfathers passing would be how I'd like to go (if I had the balls not to be a whimpering not wreck).

It turned out the auld git had been told he had a couple of months to live and decided not to tell anyone and carried on as usual. An amazing thing to do. And his end, which was a surprise to everyone, was him playing a tie against the club champion down the bowling club, which he was winning (only the first couple of ends, he wasn't very good on account of having only three fingers). He was about to play one of his bowls when he just keeled over and died on the green.

No fuss. He was a hardy b*****d from South Shields.

ETA: he wasn't my real grandfather, he died during the war. A wall fell on him during basic training in Luton.

[Sergeant Wilson]

7 hours ago, Shotgun said:

Died a couple of years ago, I'm afraid.

Did you? It's not affected your posting style much.

[Zen Archer (Raconteur)]

3 hours ago, Tight John McVeigh is a tit said:

 

Seen all my grandparents pass away, as well as my father, and both previous father and mother in law as well as many aunts and uncles and been involved in the care and burial of several of them. Within that seen sudden deaths, suicides and prolonged illness and it's hard to work out what the toughest is.

 

But in all that, my grandfathers passing would be how I'd like to go (if I had the balls not to be a whimpering not wreck).

 

It turned out the auld git had been told he had a couple of months to live and decided not to tell anyone and carried on as usual. An amazing thing to do. And his end, which was a surprise to everyone, was him playing a tie against the club champion down the bowling club, which he was winning (only the first couple of ends, he wasn't very good on account of having only three fingers). He was about to play one of his bowls when he just keeled over and died on the green.

 

No fuss. He was a hardy b*****d from South Shields.

ETA: he wasn't my real grandfather, he died during the war. A wall fell on him during basic training in Luton.

Was his name Harold?

[Zen Archer (Raconteur)]

3 hours ago, Tight John McVeigh is a tit said:

 

Seen all my grandparents pass away, as well as my father, and both previous father and mother in law as well as many aunts and uncles and been involved in the care and burial of several of them. Within that seen sudden deaths, suicides and prolonged illness and it's hard to work out what the toughest is.

 

But in all that, my grandfathers passing would be how I'd like to go (if I had the balls not to be a whimpering not wreck).

 

It turned out the auld git had been told he had a couple of months to live and decided not to tell anyone and carried on as usual. An amazing thing to do. And his end, which was a surprise to everyone, was him playing a tie against the club champion down the bowling club, which he was winning (only the first couple of ends, he wasn't very good on account of having only three fingers). He was about to play one of his bowls when he just keeled over and died on the green.

 

No fuss. He was a hardy b*****d from South Shields.

ETA: he wasn't my real grandfather, he died during the war. A wall fell on him during basic training in Luton.

Was his name Harold?

[Ya Bezzer!]

Years ago, 1998 actually, I found the body of a work colleague who hadn't turn up for work. 

The boss was worried cos he hadn't turned up and he asked me to come with him to pop round to his house.  It was just before Christmas because I remember the Christmas decorations being up in the windows. It was already dark by that time in the afternoon and that's why I remember the Christmas lights in the window.  We chapped the door no response.  Looked through the letter box but there was a curtain behind the door so you couldn't see in. At first because it was afternoon there wasn't any neighbours around so we waited and people started coming back from work after a while. 

Finally we got a neighbour and she said she hadn't seen him which was unusual because he usually went out to church on a Sunday.  To be honest I didn't see what the fuss was, I thought "He'll just be in bed or have gone away for a few days or something" but my boss was much more worried about it, so he phoned the police.  I don't know how long we waited for police to show up but it must have been at least 2 hours.  In December, in the freezing cold.  My boss was a wee guy, I'm a big guy, so he said "You're going to have to kick the door in". 

My boss went to phone the police again and I went to kick the door in.  I'd never kicked a door in before and was a bit reluctant about it.  I kept thinking "He's gonna be mad at me!" I didn't even know if I could physically do it. In the event all it took was one kick and the door flew open.  It was actually quite an exhilarating thing to do.  Anyway the door was now open and my excitement was instantly tempered.  There were no lights on but I could see a dark shape lying between the hall and a bedroom that went out into the hall.  It's weird how you just know but I could tell that this dark vague shape was him and he was dead.  I don't know really how to describe it but it just gave off a lifelessness, or more accurately of life passed.  The next thing I noticed was the smell.  Truly awful.  The sort of smell that you have to fight the urge to vomit the minute it hits you.  We worked it out - the longest he could have been dead was 3 days.  I don't know how quickly a body will decompose or what the smell was but was awful.  I didn't cross the threshold of the door, I didn't want to see anything more clearly and it was obvious he was dead. 

Just as I turned to go tell my boss the police came up the stairs and I let them deal with it.  An ambulance came and took the body away and we gave statements to the police.  The police were pretty insensitive.  They kept asking over and over again if he was a drinker, had I ever seen him drunk at work, did I know if he had a problem with alcohol.  Is it less paper work if they can write the guy off as an alkie?  It really angered me at the time. The other thing I remember was one of the police was a woman and she was gorgeous.  Literally one of the best looking women I've ever seen in my life.

When the body was taken away we went into the flat.  There was a horrible black stain on the carpet where the body had been lying and the awful smell lingered.  The guy was  in his late 50's, never married.  The place was a bit of a tip.  I couldn't step over the stain and go into the bedroom so I stuck to the living room.  There was a cage with a parrot in the corner.  By this time the police had pissed off, just left us there.  We had to phone a joiner to secure the door and my boss phoned the guys sister who lived in the US.  She didn't give a f**k apparently.  I remember this terrible sad feeling of being in someones house who had just died.  All those possessions, the furniture, and the parrot. It all just seemed, I don't know, like all the material things you accumulate are ultimately completely useless.

Since he had no family we went down to the hospital.  They'd asked my boss to formally identify him or at least come down to the hospital for some reason, I'm not actually sure why.  It was about 9pm by now.  We both sat in a open waiting room at the hospital.  We were the only two people there just sitting in the row of chairs.  I remember we were checking out the nurses that walked past, I guess it was something to talk about.  Then my boss got the call went and did whatever he had to do.

When my boss came back that was it.  He drove me home and life, as it does, went on.

 

[banana]

I'm utterly petrified of dying before the nippers are adults, and obviously just as petrified of me outliving either of them at any age.

Not sure which is worse.

[Mortar Bored]

Not going to quote the above post, and not sure if I've shared this on P&B before, if so, sorry for repetition.

I've seen a few dead bodies before, relatives who have died in hospital and have either been taken to a funeral home and made to look as best they can, or in hospital where the fantastic nursing staff do the best for the relatives. This one was a little different.

Around 6 or 7 years ago I was working in Gabon, the company I worked for had a major workforce issue which resulted in all the Gabonese going on strike.
As ex-pat rotational workers, although we supported the Gabonese workers actions, if we missed a day of work we would be sacked instantly.
So, we used to climb over the back wall, just to keep the workshop running & avoid the picket line (yes. I'm embarrassed)
One morning we went in & found the security guy on the stairs, eyes wide open, pale palour etc.
The guy that was with me was ex South African forces and as we approached the guy, my colleague said - he's dead- I'd know that smell anywhere!
Turned out the guy died of heart failure due to de-hydration, there was an impurity in the normally good local water supply that induced vomiting & diahorrea which he compounded by drinking more to counteract the dehydration.
I'll never forget the smell and eyes.

[KnightswoodBear]

Ya Bezzer!'s tale has reminded me of when my Grandpa died.  Similar situation where my dad had to force the door and the police then attended.  The policewoman was the absolute spitting image of Yasmin Bleeth from Baywatch.  Hot Yasmin Bleeth, not junky Yasmin Bleeth from after Baywatch.

I vividly remember feeling utterly wretched afterwards that I had been standing in the kitchen talking to this absolute stunner with my Grandpa lying in the next room.

[welshbairn]

Been feeling OK about my Dad dying last Sunday until today. The funeral's tomorrow and the extended family has started arriving, my sister is questioning every decision and I've spent half the day listening to funeral dirges for them to play at the Crem that will keep all the family happy. I'm now officially on strike drinking Stella in the garden and my mood is improving somewhat.

[Sweet Pete]

The pallid look of someone who's just died is weird. Like they're made of oily, pale, cold wax. I've seen it occur three times and every time it's been the same strange complexion they've taken on whilst dying/during death/immediately after death. Watching someone die is strange, such a feeling of helplessness that you're unable to stop the process. The first time I saw it was whilst I, and others, physically were trying to stop the act of dying as we were performing CPR on someone and he simply wasn't responding. Hours of CPR and no result but for him to get more pallid, more dead. I've noticed the same oily, sweaty, musky smell each time as well.

There's the odd funny or quirky thing that happens as well during death, because at the end of the day death is a part of life and life is patently ridiculous. For example, the guy I was performing CPR on was naked from the waist down, as was his elderly wife  and they were both in bed when he suffered a heart attack. They must've been going for a holiday ride when he keeled ower. She had early stage dementia as well and when I've whipped the covers back to perform chest compressions she's squeaked out in broad Aberdonian "A've nae goat any knickers oan!". After my faither died I went to comfort my mum and siblings in the hospital family room and the nurses did their usual task of writing up his death and cleaning him up in case any of us wanted to view him (which seemed odd to me since we'd just literally sat with him and watched him die, so to then go back out the room again only to return five minutes later and say goodbye felt sort of redundant). I realised that I'd left a hat I'd been wearing in the room he was in so when the nurses had finished I went along to collect it, then had to queue outside the room while my brothers took turns going in and saying their goodbyes to him. Then I walked in, apologised to him for bothering him and collected my hat. No idea why I did that, but I couldn't think of anything else to say and it felt odd not to say anything, so I mumbled an apology to him for intruding on his time then said some kind of goodbye that was also apologetic and wandered out again.

[Mortar Bored]

The pallid look of someone who's just died inside is weird.

Ex-lovers thread for pish!

[welshbairn]

Update, my idiotic sister has shattered my tranquillity again by phoning my Dad's banks, building societies and credit card companies telling them he's deid, so there's a possibility of my Mother's joint accounts being frozen. Just leave that shit till after the funeral ffs.
P.S. My other sister, who was flying from New Zealand when he died, went to see his corpse. Said his lips were all puckered up and had lipstick on. She wishes she hadn't.

 

[Mortar Bored]

Update, my idiotic sister has shattered my tranquillity again by phoning my Dad's banks, building societies and credit card companies telling them he's deid, so there's a possibility of my Mother's joint accounts being frozen. Just leave that shit till after the funeral ffs.
P.S. My sister, who was flying from New Zealand when he died, went to see his corpse. Said his lips were all puckered up and had lipstick on. She wishes she hadn't.

Your sister/s seem like idiots.