And, On A Lighter Note....


Well, it's dead so counts.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 29 Feb 2008, 0:13, 6 replies)

war child
I come from former Yugoslavia. During war times not seeing a dead body lying in a street, covered in blood..was kinda unsual.

I guess that explains why I piss in my bed at nights, and that pale looking fella' that appears every time when I get really drunk.
(metamorfoza, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 23:53, Reply)

Sorry it's not funny but...
Isn't it? I expected it to be HILARIOUS! It's a QOTW about death!

Everyone stop moaning about lack of humour and stuff, Jesus H. Christ - some of the best QOTWs are the touching and emotional ones.

I have no such stories, someone else make with the tearjerkers.
(MJPerry was crude but clickable at, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 23:35, 1 reply)

Big,Tough Legless
.
I have to confess that I've managed to reach the ripe old age of *cough*47*cough* without ever having seen a stiff. Not one. Never even been close.

And, to further enhance my reputation as a hard-man, I have to confess that the nearest I've been is to see someone murdered on the Internet. It was a good few years back now and I downloaded the infamous video of a poor Russian soldier getting his head cut off with a spade.

It affected me badly. I had nightmares for weeks as I could still see his eyes looking at the camera and into my soul asking me:

"You enjoying this you sick son of a bitch?"

That was at least 10 years ago and I've never watched "live" death again. The beheadings, the chance videos where someone gets wiped out by a car, the jumpers from 9/11, - I just don't look at them.

'Cos every image of some poor bastard shuffling off their mortal coil brings back the nightmares of that poor Russian soldier.

Guess who won't be sleeping tonight?

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 23:26, 3 replies)

Its therapy really, not a rant...
Not sure I like this qotw, but anyway.

Seen too many dead bodies. Saw two train "accident" victims. I say victims, the tracks went close to the local psychiatric wards and occasionally one would get out and end it all. To be discovered by dog walkers or in my case, young lads on mountain bikes.

Also saw my grandmother's corpse. I had to. Because...

Whilst I was at uni, my brother was killed. Was joining the army, passed his initial basic training and was on his last weekend home until he completed basic. Went out, had a few drinks with friends, then slipped on some wet grass whilst walking home and fell into the road and knocked himself out. The first two cars saw him and swerved. The third didn't. And I mean didn't see him at all. The only reason she stopped was her suspension and steering was wiped out by his body.

I of course was at uni, and was oblivious to all this. Until I received the phone call from my father. I of course couldn't believe him - didn't want to and to be honest I still don't (its been over 10 years now). The rest of the story is not for here, but these events (the shock and disbelief mainly) mean that if anyone close to me dies (such as my grandmother) I have to see for myself to make sure that they are actually dead.

Also means that nothing shocks me anymore as I have seen the worst thing I think I ever will (my younger brother's dead body).

Sorry its not funny, but what did you expect?

Weekend at Bernie's?
(animal252 last activated his kitten hammer on, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 23:22, Reply)

My Brother
I'm going to finish this up with a funny story about the kind of guy he was so stay tuned...

My Brother repeated his first year of collage, this meant that me being his younger brother I was actually
in the same year as him. At first I thought he was kinda of stealing my thunder. He was my exact opposite in
every way, I was an academic he was the most social person I've ever meet, he was amazing with girls I was
shy and well shit at it, I took physics and maths he took psychology and Philosophy. Despite this we became
best friends. I not being as socially graceful as he, always looked up to him, he being a lazy academic always
thought I was smarter than him(though I don't think I was)and a better person (for some reason)so he looked
up to me.

To say we were thick as thief's is an understatement, he quickly introduced me to all his friends, by this time
though I only really cared what my brother thought about me, he thought I was hilarious and kept telling me
I should do stand up. Because of this I completely came out of my shell, and all his friends started to like me.

3 years later I was in university, and by this point if my brother made any new friend the first thing he'd say
to them is "my brothers my best friend" and just talked about me the whole time and how great I was. he also
used to point at women in the streets and tell me which ones would go out with me, not that I tried it on or
anything. I just mean that whenever he was around me he just boasted my self confidence, All the friends that he
introduced me too by this point, where just in awe of me. (Which weirded the hell out of me)

anyway in the final year of university on, in my final semester, campus security called at my house and my house
mate cycled to me to tell me. As I started to walk home (longest 20 mins of my life) I started to think of all the
things that could of happened, I thought my granddad had died or something and was a wreck by the time I got home
and called back. It was my parents and they then told me that my brother and best friend.

Had suffered a brain hemorrhage, and was lying brain dead in a hospital in intensive care.

I'll never forget seeing him in the bed after they'd called it, he was an organ donor so he was kept alive
until they'd finished. (Apparently part of his liver saved a babies life)

So now I have no one to watch DVD's with or play computer games or smoke weed with(What can I say I'm easily pleased)
and all my friends have scattered throughout the UK. I never tell anyone I'm sad and don't have anyone to open up to
like I used to with my brother. I'm not the suicide type so don't worry on that front (always thought it was a bit melodramatic)

So now all the plans we made together (we were going to be each others best man and get a place together, and see the
world learn to snowboard etc...)are gone. There's nothing I really want to do with my life apart from be happy, But I'm not

I miss him all the time but when ever I think of anything we did together. I smile cause this is the kind of person he is...

He won a competition at work a valentine competition, to write a poem, as I said before he was very good with women.
he wasn't a sexual deviant or anything but he was very loving.

So his girlfriend at the time approached us with this poem and asked if she could read it at his memorial.

after this his supposed ex came up to us and said he was going to sent her a poem and she never got it.
Hmmmm.. ok then. After finding it on his computer I print it off.

gave it to her and thought. ahh.. this could cause a problem if his girlfriend read it out at his funeral.

Then I check his myspace only to discover that their's a third girl in the works... with the same poem

In a 200 seat crematorium their are so many people there that there are people standing in rows at the back..

We manage to convince the first girl politely not to read it out at the funeral..eventually

flash forward a bit and I've found out the whole story...

THEY ALL KNEW ABOUT EACH OTHER???!?1 WTF!??!

He'd been dating 3 girls at the same time!, not one of which wasn't attractive (not my type, little too on the
vapid side for me.)

Not one of which was even slightly miffed about it, he'd been completely honest about it from the get go apparently.





Whew...Sorry about the length but at least I didn't make a bad length joke about something 6ft long and stiff...oh wait..
damn that was in poor taste.
(K9, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 22:56, 3 replies)

Lucky
Apparently it was just chance that you were there that morning. The family had tickets, and you decided to go along with them.

That was lucky.

You were seated very close to a first aid post, where a paramedic and a number of medical volunteers were stationed.

That was lucky.

During the event, your family saw you have difficulty, and quickly called for help.

That was lucky.

The event staff went to the first aid room. One of the medical volunteers quickly went to check, meeting a member of the family on the way, and was swiftly directed to where you lay.

That was lucky.

The medical volunteer found you laying on the concrete floor between the seats and noted your agonal breathing, cyanotic lips, pale and diaphoretic complexion. Your carotid pulse was checked, and found to be absent. The volunteer used their radio to call for the paramedic on duty, who confirmed that they were already on their way with their equipment.

That was lucky.

At the same time, a bystander identified themselves as a nurse and asked if they should start chest compressions. The medical volunteer checked for a pulse one more time and told the nurse to start. Almost straight away, the paramedic arrived and started setting up a defibrillator. The medical volunteer made sure an ambulance had been called.

That was lucky.

You had defibrillator pads stuck to your chest. The nurse was beating your heart for you by compressing your chest. The medical volunteer was breathing for you by 'bagging' you between compressions, delivering oxygen into your lungs. The paramedic periodically called for a pause in CPR to analyse your heart rhythm. You were shocked a number of times. Several times you were in asystole - flatline - dead. During all of this, the medical volunteer removed your glasses and placed them into the top pocket of their shirt, in order to get a better seal on your mouth and nose with the mask. After a short while, the nurse stated that she was tired and needed someone to take over. A member of staff who had previous experience with CPR took over seamlessly.

That was lucky.

An EMS team arrived, along with a Fire Crew. The on duty paramedic shocked you once more, then arranged for you to be carried up out of the stairs to the waiting stretcher. More CPR was done on you as you lay there, then you were transported to the waiting ambulance. Just before you left the venue, the paramedic called for everyone to stop. The defibrillator showed that you had a heart beat, and you were breathing on your own. Before you left the venue, you were back.

That was lucky.

The stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, and the EMS crew and the paramedic went into the back and got to work. Your son was placed into the passenger seat whilst in the back, people worked to stabilise you. Soon after, the ambulance left to take you to a nearby hospital.

That was lucky.


Later on, the hospital called the first aid post and told everyone that you were sitting up in the intensive care unit, talking. Everyone who was involved was thanked for working together as a team. The ultimate reward was knowing you were okay.


I still remember the look on your sons face and I handed your glasses to him whilst he sat in the ambulance, a tear running down his cheek as the full weight of what happened hit him...
(kiwanotree Meh, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 22:47, 1 reply)

Back in the day someone stole my bike.
Upshot, I had to move to the Deep South, where I met someone who I thought was a guy but was actually a girl - hilarity ensued.
Still, I got to poke a dead body with a stick - it's true, the best things in life ARE free.

My father's a bit of a bastard - he made my dog jump into a car window. Ha ha.
( nightbuffalo needs more duct tape, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 22:46, 2 replies)

Can you be glad?
Well yes.

My ex-Mother-in-law died 3 and a half years ago.

Physically died, that is.

She suffered a couple of strokes in the preceeding years and degenerated - that's the right word - from a wonderful, active, healthy, happy woman who was far more of a mother to me than my own ever was into a gibbering wreck.

She had a few moments of lucidity during this period - not many - but enough for her to convey how much she understood that her stroke-addled behaviour was absolutely unbecoming of her previously dignified and proud bearing.

(I had problems with the wording on that paragraph. Dignified and proud is right. She'd never look down on anybody but she was absolutely confident in who she was pre-stroke.)

To see her so destroyed by the strokes, reduced to the ability of a toddler, was...I don't know what it was. I don't know how to word those emotions.

Ex Mrs. D (I'm being circumspect as friends read and post) still struggles with this loss.

I still struggle with this loss.

Then wannabe necrophiliacs post shite on here which is one of the reasons that I rarely bother with B3TA these days.

Perhaps these people don't have it within them to understand loss and grief. If they've never experienced it, they will at some stage. If they've experienced it and don't carry it with them, they're not really normal.
( The Disappointed Caravanner of the year, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 22:42, 1 reply)

little bit off topic..
My dad died in a foreign country (it's on the Iberian peninsula and it's not Portugal). Luckily (for us) he was insured and that paid the £22,000 fee for shipping him back. When we got him back in this country we got a pink freight docket with the details of our 'cargo' to wit:
"The remains of the British citizen Mr(my dad's name)" and there was a "1" in the quantity column.
Sigh.
( P45 Sent by my Bosch 509e in the year 2000, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 22:20, 2 replies)

Saw my mother in law post-mortem. This is not a Les Dawson joke BTW.
Word hadn't gotten through to me until long after the actual passing away and everyone else had said there goodbyes and left the hospital room, so by the time I was in the room by myself being asked by the nurse if I would like to say my goodbyes she was well and truly a departed spirit, owing more to a waxwork than the previously fluffy Mrs B. Much as I liked Mrs B there was no way in hell I was going to embrace or kiss or even stay in close proximity to the mortal remenants that had been the vehicle for her challenging(difficult) life. The lifeless colourless face scared me to death. Best remember them as they were, that's what I say. At my funeral I want Tom Sawyer by Rush on the sound system, to have my coffin transported in a loud V8-touting hearse and make even elderly relatives chug a shot glass of JD and slam it down, gasping 'Go Gerry!'

Oh, not really a personally intimate experience but had to see lots of images of dead bodies on a TV for various health and safety videos at work, i.e. the danger of fires, the danger of falling 90 feet onto your head on a concrete floor, the dangers of car crashes etc. and if I'd not accidentally stumbled across stuff like this on Rotten.com before I'd probably have hurled chunks in the training room... although what that training mostly taught me was NOT "Don't drive fast", it mainly told me "Don't drive a Rover 200 on the motorway cos if a juggernaut ploughs into you then you will end up skewering your own internal organs with the shattered harpoon-like shards of your own thigh bones and shoulder blades".

So I've just bought a Saab.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Thu 28 Feb 2008, 22:14, Reply)

lol, dead bodies!
seen left overs of a train suicide (my soon to be ex employers premises back onto a train station).
pissed up depressive launched himself under a train about 5 months back, there was bits of his head everywhere! stil is, large pieces of skull are still evident at the trackside. some saw more than me and relayed that it looked like a gammon joint under the train!
the guys who came to tidy up ( a top bunch of funny fuckers!) said they "just take the big lumps, and leave the little bits for the hedgehogs and that!"
was funny as fuck watching the blokes who work in that area( cunts to a man) green and retching :) years of internet depravity and first aid have hardened me to gore.
the vic? utter cunt! anyone who does this kind of shit is, think of the driver and passengers!
jump in the canal or summat, suicidal twats!

also saw close family member die of cancer, like some prev posts, its strange. its almost like a relief, and you feel as though the person died a long time ago....rip pal!
(discodaz *generic witty comment*, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 22:10, Reply)

Remembered a relative...
I saw my cousin die after he decided to buy a car and drive it too fast .He couldn,t drive...
He was thrown clear into a wall from the car when he smashed my mothers back wall of her house, the paramedics did thier best but the impact was too much.
It shook my mother up real bad to see him cos we lost my sisters daughter not long before to a road accident when she was going to school.
(andycrass loves two hats on, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 21:51, Reply)

Only one...that was enough.
Working in the construction industry a few years ago I,ve seen a few bumps and scrapes.The first I had seen was a guy jumping down onto a reinforcing bar and it skewered his leg.
I live in Wales and our capital Cardiff decided to put a tunnel in the docklands area.
The tunnel was built walls first, then the roof then the floor.
The roof had sections left out so materials could be dropped in by crane.My job was to fill in the gaps in the walls.
While working either side of a gap in the roof I heard a crash and saw a 5 ton dumper truck falling 10 metres ,wheels up.Realising someone could be hurt I ran to the truck to find a guy under it with his head pushed in about an inch or two,i took his pulse but he was gone.
What will live with me forever is the fact he died with his arms pointing up by his side as he tried to stop the truck from hitting him.
I knew the guy to talk to and he left a wife and 3 young kids.On an even sadder note his wife couldn,t get any compensation cos he was working without a licence to drive and was still claiming social security.
(andycrass loves two hats on, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 21:37, Reply)

Nothing looks like a dead body under a tarp more than a dead body under a tarp
I was at a spritiually-based convention in Minneapolis in 2000, having the time of my life. It was Sunday, the last day of the convention. Revived and happy, all 45,000 said the final prayer and headed home.

On the bus back to where I parked my car, the police diverted all of the highway traffic onto the frontage road. After about a mile, I could see a bridge over the main highway with two police cars on it, lights flashing, and several more police cars on the highway, parked crossways across the lanes.

When we got to where we could see the other side of the bridge, there were more police cars, an ambulance and an 18-wheeler pulled over on the side of the road.

In the middle of the road back by the bridge, was a yellow tarp. Nothing looks like a body under a tarp than a body under a tarp.

Poor sod had jumped into traffic from the bridge above, probably waiting for a speeding 18-wheeler to do the job right.

That driver got to go home and tell his kids how he killed someone, but he wasn't in trouble. He probably hears the *thump* in his sleep, though. Dozens of other drivers got to go home and tell people how they saw someone die. That one jumper forever changed dozens of total strangers' lives, including mine.

But, after all that, and having just come from a massively attended spiritual convention where I felt renewed and in love with life, part of me, deep down, was just a little envious of the jumper. He gets to be done. No more struggles.

My darker side scares me sometimes.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 21:33, Reply)

everyone on here has seen thousands of dead bodies.
here's a picture of one.


(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 21:28, 2 replies)

Several years ago
My gran died when I was seven so we flew to Ireland for her funeral.
Her body was lying in the house so family and friends could say a final goodbye.
Lot's of candles round the place and it didn't really bother me as I didn't know her and she just looked asleep.

Apparantly my little cousin, after seeing all the candles burst in to a loud and enthusiastic rendition of "Happy Birthday."

Nobody had the heart to tell her to stop.
(CakeCat, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 21:24, 2 replies)

Many of them
I am an underaker.
I'm always glad when another granny croaks, it's another £2k for me!
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 21:01, Reply)

Dead Body
This is very difficult; not because it's traumatising or upsetting in any way. It´s just difficult to start without it sounding cheap.
I saw someone killed in a car crash; I´d be about 12 at the time, an impressional age one might think. The person concerned was something of a local celebrity and drove his mini into an oncoming car without wearing a seat belt. It happened on a clear, warm day literally in front of me as I walked with a fried to the shops.
I knew he was dead because he was thrown thrown the windshield and came to rest face up on the bonnet with his arms stretched out in a perfect crucifix. That´s the part that sticks; it could have been a Crucifiction tableau on mashed car.
The real proof was kept from me until much later. He was face up but the rest of his body was face down: the force had twisted his head back to front.
I felt shock, surprise and a surity the car would blow up so strong was the smell of petrol. Neither car did.
The lady driving the other car was fine but I don't remember a sngle thing about how she was.
Did it traumatise me? No.... it was my mother who was shaken up having to tell me he was dead after the police came to take a statement. I was only 12 but I knew he was dead so a bit of a waste of emotion.
The police were kind and clearly shaken up too, it can´t have been much fun to look at close.
It´s an odd thing to look back on. Something like that should have affected me... but it didn´t. The only thing I carry is a surity that we all die and it can be very quick.
Sleep well.
(DustyD, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:57, Reply)

My Dad
Coming out of lurker mode to post this one.

I saw my Nan just after she died and thought the cliche about wax-works held up. It was like a really good model of her. I didn't feel better or worse for having seen her.

My Dad died at home of cancer a year ago and I was leaning down to listen to his breathing as he went. I saw his face change as he died and it was such a strange, strange thing to witness that I leapt back from the bed. It wasn't scary exactly but odd and wrong and slightly shocking.

He had been wrecked by the illness and looked about 80 although he was only in his sixties. We sat with his body for a couple of hours wating for the undertakers to arrive and during that time his face smoothed out. When we all kissed him for the last time he was, paradoxically, looking more like his old self.

I went to see him in his coffin a few days later. I don't know what they had done but he didn't look like my Dad at all. He looked like a wax-work of Abraham Lincoln - it was weird. I would never recommend seeing someone when the undertakers have had them for a few days. You won't see the person you loved.
(Innogen, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:48, Reply)

last winter
there was an old man just outside the park, he must have slipped on some black ice or something. His zimmer frame was toppled on its side, and he'd landed face first on the kerb, arms straight out either side. Ironically he'd fallen just in front of the car park for the local funeral director.
(DonMorte Cake is a made up drug, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:46, Reply)

Sort of
When I was at college there was a large common between my local boozer and home. During wetter months it tends to be flooded, but, during the dry months it saves about twenty minutes of my weekly “stumbling home pished” time.
It is also a great place to have the occasional cheaky spliff while circumnavigating the roots and holes which I know like the back of my hand. I feel I should also add that this is before everyone had a mobile. When you were alone in the woods you felt very alone.

Anyway – It was on one particular summer night – with a roof of stars and a cooling breeze – I trounced through the common trying to stop the greenery spinning in my head.

In the distance – in a clearing I could see a coat. As I got closer, and things stopped spinning, I realized it wasn’t a coat, It was a body laying front down.

I stopped in my tracks.
Panicked slightly
I sobered up in a heartbeat (how the fuck does that work?)
The face looked ghostly under the moon light, almost featureless. It seemed twisted to te side and half buried in leaves. It’s a surreal moment when you are faced with a motionless body. Perhaps 90% scared and 10% nosey.

Tentatively I walked slowly towards it. As I got closer I started to take in more detail. It was male. He had a rope around his neck. The other side was tied to a broken branch which was lying half over him. I moved even closer then realized who it was. It was James, a mate from college who was drinking in our group at the pub. His girlfriend had just dumped him and he seemed really low. Surely not this low.

I could almost feel the sick rising up in my throat. I ran straight over to him. Heart pounding. Beads of sweat formed on my spine. I grabbed his body and turned him over. He seemed warm but motionless. His eyes were open yet they looked straight through me. A tear welled up.

“BOOOOGA BOOGA BOOGA” his face sprang to life and he screamed in my face “BOOOOOGA BOOGA”

When people say “Oh I was so scared I pissed myself” you never actually believe that they had pissed themselves. I did. As I stood there in complete shock my bladder released its load all down my legs.

“You fucking ginger cunt. You fucking ginger cunt”. I said. As he was both ginger and a cunt.

It turns out that after leaving the pub he had decided to have a spliff on the common too. He went to the rope swing that was there but it had broken, so he just sat on the dried leaves and smoked away enjoying the silence.
Until it was shattered by the sound of a pissed bloke saying “whoops”, “ouch” and “sorry” to the roots and trees he was stumbling over.
He knew it was me so he thought he would lie and wait.

So I didn’t see a body, but, I thought I had. That was enough.

Many apologies for length.
( KISS.ME.WHERE.I.POO Signed the sex offenders register on, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:38, 6 replies)

Being on the Fire Department...
I've seen a few bodies. As they say, you never forget your first.

We were toned out for a MVA (Motor Vehicle Accident) with entrapment. We pulled up on scene to a paramedic telling us, "It's pretty gruesome boys. The girl's in bad shape and the gentleman is dead."

Apparently this gentleman had decided a high speed joyride without a seatbelt and fueled by gin was a fantastic way to spend a tuesday evening. He was ejected from the vehicle. Well, at least his head was.

Instant decapitation.

It could be that he was a year behind me in school, it could be that I had shared a conversation or two with him, but I'll never forget that night.

Come to think of it, it was probably when my captain turned to me without missing a beat and said, "We can rebuild him, we have the technology."

I'll show myself out...
(Pokey, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:36, Reply)

Not yet
Wait until later.
( its_hatorah_bitch is b3ta the devil you know on, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:32, Reply)

goodbye
this maybe a bit off topic since the body wasnt yet dead... but was soon gonna be

this was told by a new york paramedic i heard it years ago and it still chills me to think about it now

on the new york subway a guy had fallen onto the tracks during rushhour as the train had come into the station, it went over him and basically almost chopped him in half however when the paramedics arrived he was still alive and consious.. the trains weight was pushing down on his wound and steming the blood flow so he was only slowly bleeding to death but there was no way they were gonna control it once they moved the train (major arteries)so basically he was gonna die one way or the other... (what else can u do)

knowing this fact, the guy asked that a phone be brought to him, which they did they got a few extensions together and got it to him so he could phone his family and tell them he loves them and say goodbye...

jesus thats scary !! i dont have a fear of dying but that would be very bad...
(maxumus HEY!.... diddly dee, de de de de de de, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:26, 3 replies)

Aye
Regards, Mr F.West
(PassTheKhat, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:14, 2 replies)

Sort of, you'll have to bear with me
Last year, not too long before Christmas I think, some friends and I were taking another friend home around midnightish. On the way through one of the streets we passed a bloke stood on top of a wall by a lamppost. He just looked like an average pissed bloke who thought it would be a good idea to walk along a wall, but one of my friends noticed that he had a length of something in his hand...

Now, usually we'd go home a different way to which we came but this particular day we decided to go back and check, just to make sure. It was dark but as our eyes adjusted we realised that he had infact hung himself from the lamppost, albeit that his feet were on the floor and he'd just shifted all his weight onto the length of rubber innertube he'd slung around his neck.

It wasn't particularly pleasant. Mucus streaming from his nose and mouth, twitching every so often. I leapt from the car and got straight on the phone to the emergency services. They dispatched police and paramedics and upon my questioning informed me that if I could, either take the weight off his throat or cut him down. He was a big bloke and even with three of us left in the car we couldn't have supported his weight until help arrived (my girlfriend was with us, she's only about eight ounces soaking wet and couldn't take the weight of a butterfly).

Another bit of (rather pointless) advice was to try to talk him out of it. I edged closer (it feels weird to be scared of someone in that position but for some reason I was terrified) and after a few hoarse murmers of "Oi" I gave him a prod. He just swung forward and his head knocked gently against the lamppost.

All in all we could do nothing but stand there and wait for the emergency services. When they finally arrived he'd been without oxygen for a good five minutes and seemed dead to the world for all we knew. Luckilly, though, he was rescusitated and after a breif coma (about two weeks) strolled merrily out of hospital.

Techinically not a dead body as he was successfully rescusitated, but for those long, cold five minutes we had to wait I was certain that brain death had occured and that made him dead. That was scary as hell.

It's an odd sensation. In most ways I'm relieved, even if he'd died later in hospital I'd be able to say that I was lucky enough to never happen upon a dead body. But in other ways that morbid curiosity that we all get sometimes was thinking that it's now something that's still on my list of things to do and see before I die. For now, I shall try to satisfy my curiosity but also be safe in the knowledge that I haven't been scarred too much as I've seen a dead/not dead person (thought not undead, I'm grateful to say).
( shovelboy This is bad - Two minutes to Belgium, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 20:00, Reply)