I in no way vouch for the authenticity of any of these stories. If people's
lives are so dull that they want to lie about these things, I can't
really stop them... but feel free to call them on it.
"My Brush With Morbidity" by John
"I was about 12 years old living in Hillside, IL across a park from a main expressway out of Chicago (the Eisenhower). It was about January or February and I was shoveling snow. From the expressway I hear this long skid, horn, and crash.
"I dropped my shovel, yelled at my mom to call the police (this was 37 years ago and there was no 911 at the time) and took off towards the expressway. The traffic had basically slowed to less than 10 mph as the crash had happened in the center lane.
"When I got up there, I saw a compact car (Toyota-ish or Ford Escort-ish size) with 2 guys inside both not moving at all. What had hit them was the tractor portion of a semi (no trailer). The bumper of the tractor was up against the passengers shoulder basically squeezing him between it and the console. Both of their heads were against each other.
"I found out a couple of days later they both had died almost instantly when this occurred. What had happened is they had hit a patch of ice and slid in front of the tractor. There was no blood I could see that was visible so I was really surprised that they had died.
"For some strange reason, I have NEVER forgotten the details to what had happened."
Ahhhh, there's no brush with morbidity like the first one...
"My Brush With Morbidity" by Jonas
brush with morbidity happened when I was 9 years old. On my way to the
school one sunny day, one of my friends came on his bike and when we
were almost at the school a car came. The lady who was driving didn't
see him, so she hit him, and he went under the car. Another friend of
mine went for help and he was under the car, screaming for help. All
we could see was his red hair... and hear him crying under the car.
"My Brush With Morbidity" by Joseph
"Several years ago, while I was still in high school, I had a job delivering newspapers. To do the job requires being up very early in the morning to prepare for the deliveries. While I was waiting for the papers to be delivered, I was told that there had been an accident about a half mile down the road, so being a morbid individual I went to quawk at the accident.
"A woman on her way home had lost control of her car, crashing unto the edge of a bridge railing. The car had caught fire, and she was completely incinerated. I looked into the drivers seat, where the completely charred remains of this lady lay against her steering wheel. She was so badly burned that she was almost unrecognizable as a human, and the top of her skull had broken through the skin.
"The officer conducting the investigation then located her purse in the back seat. It too was charred, but the contents remained relatively intact. There he pulled out her wallet, which contained a photograph of a very attractive woman who was now laying across her steering column, and her two children who were soon to find out that they were motherless.
"The appearance of the body was interesting, but when a face was attached, it became quite another matter. That occurred many years ago, but I still remember how I felt once I saw the photographs."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by Nina
"I once worked in a private lab near a small town hospital. At 6:00 each morning, I made my way to the hospital's basement pathology lab to pick up specimens. Having trained in the squalid county hospital of a nearby city, I was accustomed to unusual sights. Nothing rattled me -- not even the medical examiner sawing open the head of a suicide while detectives ate cheese doodles and cracked jokes. Not the sputums and body fluids I collected on my morning rounds. Nor the various 'spare parts' in jars and basins. Nor the individuals on the table, who had been alive moments earlier.
"But one dark morning, alone in the basement, I followed the sound of running water coming from the autopsy room. The autopsy room light switch was beside the other door, across the room from where I stood. I could barely make out the form of a woman on the steel table, covered in a sheet up to her chin. In the sink behind her head, water trickled into a basin.
"But I froze. There was no way in hell that I was going to cross that room and turn off the water. There was no way I could stay in that basement a second longer. I felt an overwhleming urge to flee, so I turned, and raced to the nearest stairwell."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by FederalPrisonCop
ANOTHER one of my (many) brushes with morbidity:
In 1993, I went to the doctor because of severe stomach pains, and occasional shortness-of-breath. An X-ray showed that I had a Morganni's hernia, which is when your diaphragm ruptures, your guts seep into your thoracic (heart / lung) cavity, and interfere with their function. As I left the doctor's office, and walked to the admissions area of the hospital (which was across the street), I suddenly collapsed in pain in the middle of the crosswalk, and had a VERY hard time breathing.
Nurses from both the emergency room, and the doctor's office ran into the street to care for me, and they called for an ambulance while they attempted to open my airway, take my blood pressure, etc. The ambulance arrived within a minute, and my doctor came out to treat me as I was put into the ambulance. Once in the back of the ambulance, my doctor told me matter-of-factly, "You have a collapsed lung. I need to give you a chest-tube, and it is going to hurt like hell."
I was then strapped to the stretcher, and my right hand was tied to the rail next to my left armpit. I then felt something freezing cold on my right side, and I was told, "Here it comes!". As soon as he said that, he jabbed a scalpel into me WITHOUT ANESTHETIC, and kept moving it back-and-forth, so he could get through the muscle between my ribs. As I lay there screaming to myself, but not making a sound (no air!), he then stuck a finger - then forceps - into me. As he spread my ribs with the forceps, and cut into my thoracic cavity, he said, "Cough!"
I was gasping by this time, but I did my best to "cough" for him. Suddenly, I felt another jab into my side, and then what felt like cold water was being poured into me, while hot water was being spilled onto my side / back. As soon as I felt this cold / hot sensation, my once-silent screams of pain were given massive volume (air!). Although I was throbbing with pain from my right side, the joyous sensation of finally being able to breath again was somewhat overwhelming it.
My doctor then - FINALLY - put some lidocaine into my side, and stitched the chest tube to my skin, to keep it from being pulled out during my move from the ambulance to the surgery center. Ironically, the pain didn't do it, but, the sight of him sewing the tube to me made me suddenly get hot all over and pass out.
I awoke the next day in recovery, and I had yet ANOTHER brush with morbidity:
I heard a woman standing next to my bed, and she was saying to my mom, '"He had to have his right lung removed, but it only bought him a few months, because the cancer has entered the other lung." I started screaming that they had taken my lung, and that I was dying, but - as I was being sedated - the lady reassured me that it was the man in the bed NEXT to me that was dying... ...and, it was HIS wife who was telling this to my mom.
By the way... ...did I mention the morphine-induced hallucinations about being "on a ledge", and "about to fall", because my room was at the end of a long hallway, and my bed was situated where I could look down the hallway? I broke the footboard of the bed, and had to be 5-pointed, because they would not get my "off the ledge".
"My Brush With Morbidity" by Rebecca
"I grew up in an isolated farm house in northern New York, 15 minutes drive from town, which at least four months out of the year was more like 30 minutes to town, with snow covering the roads and windchill warnings each month in winter. The house had been built in the mid-1800's, and had been owned most recently by four generations of a family [I'll call them Smith]. When my father bought it, the house was what a realtor would describe as a 'fixer-upper,' in that it was mildewy on the inside, had water damage on the ceilings and cluster flies everywhere they could think to fit.
"My parents had been adamant about making a place their own, and coupled with the limited funds of a young family, they chose the farm house, whose barn had burned down to its stone foundation which we played among as kids.
"The house, and the 60 acres it held, were sold to my father by an elderly woman who had been living alone for quite some time, which would account for the disrepair of the place. My father began to gut the interior of the home, starting with the carpets, days after she was moved into a nursing home by her son.
"The recarpeting, resurfacing, repainting, and all other things that are redone when one undertakes the gutting of a house were accomplished room-by-room, which is why my father had to fix the plumbing. The bathrooms were the last on the list to be restored for use before our family moved in fully, so my father set to work on the plumbing, some of which was located in the cellar.
"The cellar, or basement, was very cold and damp, and not unlike other New England cellars. The Smith family hadn't fully removed all of the sundries located in the basement, and so there were the remnants of four generations of mason jars and pickle jars and fruit preserves and tennis rackets and all other things in the basement.
"My father, having navigated this debris to locate the pipes, was clattering away with his wrench when he heard a clinking sound coming from some jars along the floor. Feeling bored, he started dumping out old coffee-cans fulls of nails and glass-jars with rusty bolts and things, but was quite shocked to discover that one of the glass jars held four mummified human fingers.
"He called Mrs. Smith, who said 'Oh! There they are!' and proceeded to explain that her Uncle (this must have been around 1890) had gone out one night on a horse-drawn sleigh and had forgotten gloves, so his fingers had gotten frostbite. These fingers, then, had to be amputated, and apparently, he was so attached to them that he put them in a jar in the basement for safe keeping. He then died of unrelated causes, and without telling anyone where the fingers were hidden, and so was buried without them.
"The son of the Smith family came to pick up the grisly souvenir, which my father had respectfully left in its original jar, and as far as I know the fingers were buried alongside the uncle, roughly 85 years after his death."
Awww, why on earth would they bury those fingers? What a great family heirloom!
"My Uncle's Brush With Morbidity" by BK
"This brush with morbidity is really my uncle Jay's story. He works as a locksmith and this incident occurred during the mid-eighties. A local funeral home contracted him to change their locks and he was working at five in the morning while it was still dark out. Almost every door in that building had a lock and only my uncle and his co-worker were there at the time. One room had a light burnt out so they were working in semi-darkness with only flashlights and the light from the hall outside the door. It was the perfect set-up... two men alone in the morgue in the dark. As Jay tells it, from across the room there was a 'thud' and the upper half* of the lid of a casket flew open as the corpse within bolted straight up into a sitting position (the lid wasn't fully shut). Jay's co-worker soiled himself and fled down the hall. My uncle realized it was just the effects of the brain and nerves decomposing, but nonetheless he had to finish the lock in that room with a corpse sitting erect not ten feet away, eyes wide open, "staring" at him. His cowardly and humiliated companion had by this point returned and they scrambled to finish the lock and then, as Jay puts it, 'got the Hell oughtta there.'
*in the US, most casket lids are divided through the middle forming an upper and a lower lid. The lower lid is usually closed and the upper opened during a viewing of the deceased.
"My Brush With Morbidity" by number 9
was driving down I-75 with a friend of mine near Cincinnati, not paying
too much attention, when traffic came to a screeching halt. I saw a
woman standing in the middle lane (of three) frantically waving me to
the left. I pulled off to the left shoulder to drive by the accident.
A few feet past the woman I saw a man lying face down in the left lane.
As I got closer I saw that the back of his head was missing. My friend
who was sitting in the passenger seat let out an 'oh my god' gasp, looking
down on the body from the window. I found out later that he had been
thrown from a car by a collision and then
in the tracks, quite literally!
"My Brush With Morbidity" by EvilPresly
"My boss used to be a coroner and was taking the search and rescue team to the morgue for a field trip and asked if I wanted to tag along. YES! So we go in and it is one of the oldest buildings in Oakland, right near Jack London Square, used to be a courthouse and the hanging tree was right out front. We go in, get a basic tour of the admin. rooms, etc, and get to ask a lot of questions about corpse protocol and heard a lot of gruesome and awesome and weird stories about picking up bodies and that kind of stuff.
"Then we get to the autopsy room antechamber, which has rows of freezers marked things like 'livers, 1998-2000.' And two drying chambers for bloody clothing and evidence. Here our guides tells us that coroners used to wear plain clothes, but now it's a shirt and a blazer with a tie, 'which is a shame because when you lean down, its inevitably- oops, in the mouth.' Did I mention that our guide is deadpan (pun VERY intended) and hilarious? He cracks jokes like that the whole time. Then we get to go to the autopsy room.
"To my dismay there are no bodies anywhere, no blood or traces of it, and the floor had been mopped. But there are 6 stainless steel tables with vacuum hoses and foot pedals around them and microphones suspended over each one. The doctors have to speak every last thing as they are doing it, to record the autopsy. We are told that sometimes every table is in use at once. Ooh, I can only imagine what that is like. 6 simultaneous autopsies! To get at the brain, the scalp is peeled back over the face and the skull incision is made in the back, so you can stretch the skin back over once the skull has been replaced and you can hardly tell the corpse just had a face lift. 'I was surprised at how easily it can be done!' He says.
Someone asks about the tools they use. Scalpel? 'The scalpel is there, but this is more of butcher's work- using regular kitchen knives and saws and things. And to open up the chest cavity we use your ordianry average garden shears.' At which point my boss went over and demonstrated the use of the shears. As the organs are removed and dissected, they get placed in a bucket on the floor, which at the end the contents of which are placed into a bag and sealed in the chest cavity-including the brain. As for the odds and ends, our guide told us that there is a garbage disposal at each autopsy table. "It drains right into the bay! Just kidding. I don't know where it goes. I don't want to find out." Someone of course made a wendy's chili joke. We are told that they keep a piece of each body- a section of bone, or piece of tissue for storage indefinitely. And they do occasionally have to exhume bodies, though not often.
"At this point I am beginning to think I will never see a corpse. And then we are herded toward the big door. No more personal corpse drawers for Oakland- it's even better- an enormous walk in refirgerator. Butcher's work indeed. The door opens and out comes a rotten, earthy smell and we are invited to walk into the human meat locker. I am surrounded by feet sticking out from under sheets. Yellow toe tags are homocides, the black body bags are to keep the decomposition cases in as close to one piece as possible. There is a fly zapper just outside, because 'nothing stops maggots' and I imagine them working away even in the 36-39 degree refrigerator as I pass between the two rows of bodies on gurneys.
At the end of the row the bodies are only haphazardly covered- allowing a look at the legs, and one foot stuck out which was covered in a pink powderiness, and had an immense lesion on the ankle surrounded by a green fungus and the whole thing had started to decay, and two bodies down an older man, who would have been wrinkled if it were not for the intense bloating that had stretched his belly and skin into a youthful tautness once more, transparent slightly with the stereotypical blue veins snaking beneath lay next to another body who had no idea it was covered in adipocere. 'Everyone's body reacts uniquely to death. It's quite amazing.'
"Hope you enjoyed, I know I did."
Thank you for sharing your good morbid fortune with the rest of us!
"My Brother's Brush With Morbidity" by Tim
"[My brother] worked up here in South Daytona at 'Marcell Gardens' a few years back. He got a complaint from a bottom floor that some kind of red fluid was flowing through the roof! He went to the apartment above to ask what he was doing and the guy was panting but very cordial and he said it was photo developing fluid. So my brother went on about his work. He was very busy and is probably too trusting! The next day, the police were there and they found out it was a murder. It was 'Gugliomo' and he had murdered his wife and cut her up in pieces in order to carry her out. That was the blood that flowed through to the bottom floor. He dumped the head someone where in Georgia and the rest of the body along the way, but they did catch him and my brother had to testify at the trial. I said, David, talk about a red flag!"
And what sort of non-morbid mind would not suspect blood in the first
place? Certainly none of us would miss a clue like that.
My Brushes With Morbidity by Snowytaa
"I was stopped at an intersection a few years ago when I saw a guy on a motorcycle coming up very fast behind me. I didn't move, but at exactly the wrong moment another car didn't see him, and tried to pull into my lane...
"I saw the guy on the motorcycle swerve, lean and go flying off, sliding underneath another car and finally rolling to a limp stop in the intersection. Of course all the cars stopped, and two men jumped out of their truck to 'help' him. As I watched in horror, they proceeded to lift this guy up, slap him to trying and wake him, then one started tugging on his helmet. I rolled down my window for them to stop but nobody listens to me, so they pulled harder... There was this loud sucking noise and the helmet came off, and insantly I saw a mix of blood/pink liquid (brain fluid) running from his ears and nose...the motorcycle rider's head fell backwards and then rolled on his neck in a 360 degree circle... His neck was snapped and if he wasn't dead, I'm sure he died soon after."
"I was 12 when this happened. I live in a busy city and just down the street from where I grew up was a very busy road. One afternoon I was walking home when I heard a deafening noise from the other side of the two lane road, a mix of squealing brakes, warping metal and a very short but obvious human scream.
"I tried not to look but I couldn't resist, I peeked out through my fingers and saw a woman lying one arm outstretched on the hood of her car, windshield shattered and her head obliterated, her neck and the red goo where her face must have been before was pumping out blood. The car door was gone (in the road) and one leg was sticking out where the driver's side door had been. She looked dead, but she was twitching all over, like she was having a seizure. She had hit a telephone pole and gone flying through her windshield. No seatbelt, I guess. I ran home and threw up, but I always wore my seatbelt after that."
"My Mother's Brush With Morbidity" by Jennifer
"This is actually my mothers brush, but every time she tells it to me, I get creeped out, so I thought I would share. My mother grew up in Boise, Idaho. When she was a child, a couple lived across the street, and I believe their name was Quinliven. Dont know if Ive spelled it right. Anyway, the man was very abusive to his wife, and one day, as my mother was playing outside of their house, Mrs. Quinliven came running outside ON FIRE. She lay there burning on the sidewalk while my mother watched (she was about 8 years old), and the firemen came and took her away. She lived for a very short time and died in the hospital."
Not only creepy, but positively CRISPY!
"My Brushes With Morbidity" by Seb
there, I just thought I'd share these with you... The three most morbid
things that ever happened to me.
"The train I was sitting in passed a school. Nothing special, right? Wrong, my friend, verrrry wrong.... You see, in Holland the youngsters are really fanatical about their mopeds (50cc motorbikes, you don't need a license for those), so now we can add one 17-year old guy on a souped-up 'Puch Maxi'-moped to the equation.
+ 16 yr. old stoner + level crossing + 17 yr. old boy on a moped thinking
'F*ck those lights, I'm gonna make it!' = a seriously FUBAR'ed train-schedule
for the remainder of the day.
had climbed into a tree and fell down. Not a terribly large distance,
just some 12 feet. Unfortunately enough he went down head-first and
impacted on the huge container we used as a tool-shed. He bounced off
and went into the ditch next to our club-house, he had been bobbing
in the water for at least 10 minutes. One of the grown-ups found him,
he jumped into the ditch, pulled Eric out of the water, looked at what
he had landed and started screaming like a banshee.
never really got over this, but at least I'm able to make sick jokes
about it today... :)"
"My Brushes With Morbidity" by Shelley
"I guess I have been 'blessed' more than most.
"#1. It was a really windy day a couple of years later and I and some friends were stuck in traffic in the middle lane of a suburban main street. We were watching a girl, a young teen, walk down the sidewalk - she was so jaunty and smiling it was a pleasure to see her. As she walked under a tree, the wind broke a branch and it fell, hitting her in the the head. It caved in the back of her head and she fell to the sidewalk dead, right in front of us. [Now you know why she was so jaunty and smiling! - despair] We couldn't even get out of the car, we were so locked in, but a police car in the jam called an ambulance.
"#2. A decade later a friend and I were driving home on a little curvy hilly New England 2-lane highway when a man in a little red sportscar driving like he was in the Indy passed us on a curve and left us in the dust. About a mile down the road we came on a major car accident, the red car had run head-on into a truck hard enough to knock the truck off the road. The people inside the truck were dazed and bleeding and the windshield was shattered.
"But the red car was about half as long as it had been, with the engine in the front seat. The driver's top half was folded sideways and crushed flat under the engine, his bottom half was sitting upright with his legs out of the car. One leg was gouged raw the whole length right through his pants leg and had denim strips embedded in it. The other had a severe compound fracture with the thigh bone sticking up out of his jeans and muscle meat hanging off of it like flags. Weird thing was, there was no blood under his legs. We figured he must have bled out at the top end when the engine hit him and the damage to his legs happed after that when the car was rebounding across the road."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by The Goltls
"This was a couple of years ago. We live in the country, so seeing flashing lights and firetrucks and ambulances is a big deal. Well, they were all converging at a railroad crossing about 2 miles from our house. We drove over there. There was a potato chip truck smashed and in the ditch. We turned right and drove along the highway. About 100 feet from the crossing, there was the body (not the head) of the driver. They were covering it as we drove by. My husband said it was a deer. My 11 year old daughter said, 'No, it wasn't. There is his head.' His head, from midway through the eyes to the chin, was lying in the ditch, staring at us. The top part of his head was never found (they think coyotes or souvenir hunters got it)."
"My Weird Near Brush With Morbidity" by Zubrovka
"Awhile back, there was a bad single vehicle accident in front of my home. It happened early in the morning, about 1:30 am on the coldest night of the year. I was in bed asleep. Our home is on top of a ridge above the road, with a steeply sloping front slope of about 100 feet. I have about 20 -30 ft of flat front yard and then it slopes off to the road below.
"A young woman, drunk, was driving her Jeep and when she crested the hill where my driveway leaves the road, she must of lost control. About 50 feet past my driveway she left the road, hit the ditch, flipped up the slope at least twice and then flipped back down the slope a couple of times and landed in the ditch. If you stood in the road, facing my property, it looked like a huge triangle had been drawn out on the front slope. Somewhere in all that flipping, she had been thrown clear of the Jeep and lay out on the slope.
"Well, my wife and I slept through all that and my wife woke up when all the emergency and sheriff cars showed up. There were about 10 to 15 vehicles with flashing lights out there. My wife and I stood at the bedroom window and looked below to the roadway as people stood around and stared in the wreck and then back up the slope. We finally decided it was a dark colored Jeep and my wife said, 'you don't suppose that's Nico's Jeep' (my god daughter) to which I replied, 'no she lives over in Missouri, what would she be doing over here at this time of night?' Suddenly the people below emerged from the shadows to the road, carrying a limp body, which they lay on a stretcher and covered over with a sheet and loaded into the ambulance. I was thinking, 'oh no, someone has been killed out there', and my wife said aloud, 'Oh hell, now someone will be putting up one of those roadside memorials in our yard!'
"The ambulance slowly drove away and it took the law enforcement about another 2 hours to figure everything out and get the Jeep on a wrecker, The following day, I called my good friend Q to tell him about the wreck and his daughter Nico answered the phone. It WAS her Jeep and she had been driving. (She had an argument with her bf and had put him out, about a mile back up the road before the accident.)
"The ER people thought she was dead until she awoke in the ambulance on the way to town. She had spent the night in the hospital and had escaped injuries with only a broken arm and bruises. Very lucky I think. My wife called her and told her the next time she was thinking of dropping by, to use the driveway! I told Q I was thinking of putting up a sign out there that read, Near Miss... I helped him sell the totaled Jeep on eBay."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by Jenn
"I had a dinner party one night and had just sent my friends off when one of them called to tell me there's been a horrible accident in front of my apartment complex. I ran to the gates hoping it wasn't the other car I'd just sent off and thankfully she was okay. But the accident was still very shocking.
"The road in front of my complex is six lanes plus a turning lane dividing the traffic, and the lanes closest to my complex were swarming with cops and paramedics. The entire street was blocked off as they collected evidence of the accident scene. Part of the evidence included the lumps of bloody meat that had been a pedestrian hit by an oncoming vehicle; it seems that the poor guy was hit in front of my driveway and parts of him landed near there, while other parts of him landed several meters further up the road.
"One of the dinner guests who called me minutes before described how she had seen them scoop up remains with what looked like a shovel and put it into a plastic bag. She was completely calm in describing the details of it, how the remains were so badly mutilated that she couldn't tell what sex or race the pedestrian had been. A morbid woman after my own heart if ever there was one, but I digress...
"We stood among several other spectators and watched the authorities work; we commented on the large pool of blood in the middle of the road. The event made the news and my clinically descriptive friend informed me tonight of what exactly had happened. The deceased had been driving while intoxicated and, for unknown reasons, pulled his car into the turning lane, parked, and attempted to cross the street towards my complex. The oncoming vehicle wasn't able to stop in time and hit him at a high rate of speed after he's stepped into traffic.
"I've heard those turning lanes called 'suicide lanes' but I never thought much about the nickname before last night. When I pulled out to go to work today it was all I could think about."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by Lynn
"In the early 1990s, my fiancé and I were lived in a tiny, third floor apartment in Pittsburgh. Our apartment was at the back of the building, while a second third-floor apartment was at the front.
"One Sunday morning, we slept in because we'd been up late the night before. We were awakened by a timid knocking at our apartment door; we didn't know anybody else in the building, so we were a little leery about what they wanted at 10 am on a Sunday morning?
"That's when our neighbor said something I'll never forget, because it made no sense at the time: 'Excuse me, but there's a van on your car.' We didn't really believe him, but we got dressed and went outside, because we had no windows that faced the street where our car was parked. As we approached the giant wood and glass front door of our building, we realized something major was going on, and we'd missed every bit of it: outside our door were three police cars, two ambulances, and a huge fire truck, all with lights blazing. There were people everywhere, and yes indeed, there was a minivan balanced upside down on top of my car.
"As we walked out the door, I whispered to my fiancé, 'He died.' There was no blood spattered around, no bodies carefully covered with a sheet, but there was a sad feeling of death, and you could just *feel* that a man had died. A homicide detective saw us, and asked us a few questions, and sure enough the driver of the van, a very young guy, had been killed. Turns out he had run a red light, hit a lady's car, rolled several times, and ended up on my car.
"We actually had to drive the car for a couple more days, until we could get a new one, complete with smashed windshield and destroyed front seats. The saddest part for me was finding things from the van inside my car -- a hairbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, all from the overnight bag he probably expected to unpack when he got home. The only good part was that the car was on its last legs anyway, and the paltry insurance settlement helped us get a new one."
What a way to look at bright side of death, as Monty Python might recommend!
"My Brush With Electricity" by Doug
"The story from the coroner says this homeless guy was apparently walking 'home' in the middle of January got turned around and fell off this tiny little cliff (tiny as in 6 feet). Besides being fairly intoxicated, he must have struck his head or something, because that was where he was found 6 months(!) later by some hikers.
to the coroner, when they got there to extract the body they
"Being stuck in a ditch for six months through snow, melting of the snow, rain, and a couple of months of 20 degree weather doesn't make for a good body. So to make absolutely sure it wasn't some sort of homicide this dude needs an autopsy... in a city 1500km's away... on a weekend.
"Stage right, enter us. Our mission, make sure nothing gets close to the black stain this guy left just in case that it was a murder. We set up the tent and take 8 hour shifts sitting around smelling the remains of this guy, making sure noone comes around. About halfway during the second day I realized that this was utterly pointless since in the last 6 months only 2 people have actually been to this spot of the world. And one of them was dead. Finally, the results are in... not a murder.
"A job well done, we're patting each other on the back and taking down the barrier tape, I get an urge to get a 'close-up' of this black stain. On initial observation it looked like your typical black mark, but on a 'hands and knees' close-up I saw something buried in the middle of it. So I get a stick and dig it out. 3 vertebrae and a finger bone, covered in maggots of course. I guess my first thought was how they managed to do an autospy and not notice they were missing some bits.
"So my boss says 'Clean off those fucking maggots and put them in a bag, we'll deal with this when we get home.' So I break off a pine tree branch and start bottle brushing these little bastards off the bones and threw them in the baggie.
"The coroner was hilarious though when we told him, 'Oh yeah, 4 bones? Wow. Say can you hang on to them for the weekend, yeah we don't need them right away.'
suppose this whole experience would have been fairly somber had one
of the receptionists not found the bones in the work fridge."
"My Brush With Electricity" by Terry
"For many years I was a reserve police officer in Canada. One night I was patrolling with a regular officer during a heavy snowfall when we received a call of a bad car accident. We arrived at the scene to find a badly injured man sprawled on the window of a car.
"It was later found that he had been fighting with his girlfriend at a nearby club, and she had decided to drive away without him. He tried to stop her by jumping onto the hood. She drove with him on the hood for several blocks before she lost control in the snow and rear ended a pickup truck.
"The trouble was, she had a sports car with a low sloping hood, and she rear ended a jacked up 4X4. Her hood slid under the bumper of the truck, with her boyfriend sandwiched in between. He was kind of, well, smeared up the window.
"I was assigned to block traffic. The snow was falling heavily, and much of the accident scene was getting covered. Nonetheless, I wasn't prepared for an ambulance attendant to walk up to me and casually ask 'have you seen a foot lying around anywhere' I remember thinking 'Boy! I hope they find that foot before it's found by some little old lady when the snow melts!'
it or not, the guy survived but lost both his legs. Even more believe
it or not... the couple later got married."
"My Brush With Electricity" by Alida
"I have an 'electrifying' brush with morbidity. I still wear mine on my face unfortunately. I was 3 years old and doing my best to stay awake because I was SURE the boogeyman was coming to get me. I could hear my parents and their guests watching a film on the old school film projectors they used in '77. Now mind you, I am THREE years old and I remember this moment as if it happened yesterday!
here I am, scootched to the front of the bed trying to peer out the
door pane at the movie everyone is watching. I realize that I need more
light, because I am far too scared in this big bad dark room all by
myself, and the nightlight just isn't cutting it. I go over to the lamp
on my dresser and being 3, think that if I tug on the cord it will come
on for this is how I have seen mommy turn it on (didn't realize it's
a switch, not a cord!) Well my little hands are too weak to tug on this
"I remember feeling heavy, like I had suddenly become concrete and there was no moving me. I could smell flesh burning, but didn't realize what it was. Don't ask who was looking over me, but I fell over and the cord came loose, alongside 2 of my teeth, I let out a blood curdling scream and I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was in Intensive Care with liver damage, missing teeth, and a horrid scar on the left side of my mouth that looked like swirled Aqua Fresh toothpaste. That's the best way to describe what it had done to my mouth and how it looked in appearance.
"I ate foods through a straw for 7 months, and here I am 26 years later, 4 plastic surgeries older, and I have a minimal scar left on my face. I have grown quite fond of the dark and no longer feel the desire to turn on lights."
an electrifying brush with morbidity!
"My [Near] Brush With Morbidity" by Shelley
"Several years ago I worked in the State Archeologist's Office, which was called on to deal with human remains dead more than 50 years. We had dealt with the result of digging foundations for new houses through forgotten burial grounds (as in skulls and grave goods sticking out of the dirt walls), sorted out the mess in a family mausolium after a bout of satanic vandalism, cleaned the "killed" remains of "vampires" (actually tuberculosis victims) from the 1700s or 1800s discovered in a gravel pit, and conducted the exhumation of a guy dead a couple hundred years whose kin wanted him re-buried back home overseas (we had to count all the bones and wrap them one-by-one for shipping after digging him up). Once we helped the Medical Examiner do an exhumation of a multiple grave only 15 or 20 years gone (really nasty - 'way too much soft tissue still there).
worst case we had happened just before one of my classes so I didn't
go out on the call. I heard all about it the next day. Construction
crews were digging ditches to lay underground utility cables when the
backhoe bit through the corner of a coffin, dragged it out of the dirt
ahead of it and uncovered the really putrid body of some guy who was
supposed to have been buried somewhere else in the 1800s (sometimes
when they relocated a cemetary some of the bodies stayed behind and
the tombstones were all that actually got moved ). He had been embalmed
after a fashion and was in a lead-lined casket but it had been a long
long time and the smell was so awful and penetrating that one of the
people from our office retrieving the coffin had to burn her clothes
afterwards. The backhoe driver later reported that he had nightmares
for months afterwards of that corpse coming at him out of the ground."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by DeadTriac
"I was working with a national Broadway tour as a carpenter and property assistant, on 'Fiddler On The Roof'. It happened sometime during the first 100 performances (its all a blur after 210 3 hour long shows), in some small town (I think it was in one of the big square states).
"We had begun the second act of the show, which starts with 10 minutes of the worst song ever, 'Now I Have Everything'. I was dozing off as usual, since I didn't have any cues coming up, when my stage manager gets on headset and calls for an emergency stop to the audio guy, as well as stage lighting to cut off and house lights to go on. She sends me out to the audience because the paramedics are working on an elderly woman who's had a heart attack.
job was to stand there as they repeatedly zapped the poor biddy and
let the stage manager know when they were done so we could resume the
show (I guess the show really must go on). They finally cleared her
out of the house on a gurney, and we went on like nothing had happened.
The cast was very concerned about her, and they finally found out that
don't blame her, really... that song bored me to death, too."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by LSD
"This is the story that cemented my unwillingness to do 'xtreme' rollerblading, skateboarding or what have you, despite how much 'fun' my friends make it look.
I can skate decently enough. I can get from point A to point B or play
hockey but I don't like to do jumps in fear of falling on my face. Anyhow,
one day it was decided that we were going to have a great game road
hockey. We managed to assemble a dozen or so players and the game was
on. Mostly everyone was wearing the equipment they should, (kneepads,
"Only someone truly morbid would have kept that footage :P"
course, it comes as no surprise that my first thought was, "WHO
ON EARTH WOULD HAVE TAPED OVER THAT FOOTAGE!!!"
"My (Vicarious) Brush With Morbidity" by Skat
December 1997, there was an automobile accident on a local highway involving
four teens in a Saturn returning from Christmas shopping at a local
mall and a truck driver returning home (in a pickup) after working an
extra shift for an oil company, who somehow was traveling in the wrong
direction on the highway. His truck slammed head-on into the Saturn,
killing himself and the driver of the Saturn instantly.
that would be a truly horrific sight to see! Almost as horrific as a
glimpse of the Comtesse's countenance!
"My Brush With Morbidity" by Venus
"You, as a well-informed woman of the world, perhaps already know this, but your dear readers might not. One doesn't have to be dead to have one's scalp laid open and one's face peeled down. I had it done in the first week of July in the process of removing a brain tumor. Sadly, I couldn't be awake for the procedure, but this is what my very skillful MDeity did to me:
"After shaving the hair from the incision path, my doctor sliced my scalp open from just above one ear and just inside my hairline all the way across to the same point just above the other ear. Since the tumor was sitting on the outside of my brain just behind my forehead at the hairline level, my face was peeled down to expose the skull and, much like one would tap into a soft-boiled egg to gain access to the slurpy goodness, a hole about the size of a golf ball was made in my skull.
tumor and scar tissue from a previous tumor (yes, I've had my face peeled
down before) were removed and my skull was repaired as much as possible.
My face was tugged back into position and the incision was stapled closed.
The staples were popped out a week later and everything is healing up
nicely. I still have a small depression in the middle of my forehead,
just below the hairline, but it's a small price to pay for having a
true-life story guaranteed to repulse all but the most morbid souls."
you for the graphic details of your procedure. I'm sure we all appreciate
it very much!
"My Great-Grandmother's Brush With Morbidity" by T.J.
writing you to let you know about something pretty morbid that happened
in my family. I am named after all of my grandfathers and I was talking
about it with my great-grandmother last Saturday (06-18-05). In the
middle of the conversation I felt the urge to ask her how he died. She
got this scared, just saw a ghost look on her face. She said it was
a horrible death. He had battled lung cancer for a couple of years but
it eventually spread to his heart. She was in the hospital with him
when all of a sudden, she said, 'It looked like his heart popped.' She
said blood came out of his mouth, eyes, and ears. She was the only one
in the hospital room at the time. That must have been brutal."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by IH8WhatUvMadeMe
friend of mine died in a freak accident. He was pulling up a fence post
with his truck and the fence post broke. It flew threw the air and threw
his windshield and into his forehead. My friend spent 2 days in the
hospital. On the second day, he was pronounced brain dead. I went to
see him and I walked into the hospital room. He was lying there, helpless,
brain dead, not really him. His brain was swollen which caused his head
to swell. It looked like it was about to pop... I held his hand and
looked up to his face in just enough time to see brain matter come out
of his nose. The nurse ran over and threw a towel over his face and
asked my friends and I to leave until she got it cleaned up. She didn't
say it in so many words, but I knew what she was talking about."
"My Brush With Morbidity" by Dave
"Here is the news story from yesterday...
a.m., July 12, 2003
is my experience...
"Here's what I found out since then. This woman had been despondent. She was at the hospital having some sort of evaluation when she bolted. She ran across the freeway and up that embankment. Her sister that that guy (brother in law maybe) crossed the overpass chasing her. They caught up with her on the other side but she lost them and returned to the freeway as I was approaching. She ran down the embankment and in front of those first three cars. They saw her coming so they all missed her but they gave her cover from me. She spotted me behind them and turned in her tracks to chase me down. The coroner has my truck so I am going to rent a car right now."
I am rendered speechless!
Brushes With Morbidity...