Morgue where the corpses are located. Going to the morgue

We planned the event 3 days in advance and had very little time to prepare (make inquiries, establish contacts). From the inventory we had only a list of morgues. Since the central region has the greatest concentration of morgues, we decided to systematically bypass them (“They’ll send us to one, we’ll go to another”). We immediately decided that there was no point in telling lies: “A man should see a corpse at least once” :).

At first, we ended up in the Infectious Diseases Hospital, the local watchman turned out to be not particularly accommodating:

Can I get to the morgue?

On an excursion.

No, the morgue is closed.

In general, in principle, is this real?

No, today is Sunday and the morgue is closed!

And we went to the hospital on Liteiny. Having successfully walked around the entrance, we easily found the morgue. There was a back door and a delivery room. We didn’t like the delivery room, it seemed a bit boring, and we decided to knock on the back door. A decently dressed guy of about thirty came out and asked what we wanted.

Is it possible to go to the morgue?

In principle, it’s possible, but why do you need it?

To strengthen the spirit.

Well, let's go... But it smells bad in there.

There were wreaths, coffins, and other equipment. The man walked up to the bolted door, removed the bolt and opened it... All my ideas about morgues were shattered. In a small room, on the tables lay corpses, almost in a pile, naked, of an unnatural greenish-gray color, thin, half-decomposed... What they saw completely overwhelmed the smell. I looked at all this for about 2 minutes, peering into the details so that my consciousness did not push out the picture.

But this still needs to be opened... - said the guide.

Is it possible to attend the autopsy?

The autopsy is performed by a doctor...

Where can I buy entrance tickets?

You guys need to go to Ekaterininsky 10, to the city morgue: there are drowned people, and gunshots, and knives...

At this point, we thanked the guide, wrote down the address and left. They agreed that they were not real, like wax figures. In other respects, namely the “shock” of what we saw, we did not agree. Then I walked along Nevsky, feeling the unnaturalness of the world, where even the corpses did not look like themselves.

Alexander, 03/19/2006

This report is a good example of how one can “tune in” to the awareness of death. Make sure that we are all mortal. And sooner or later we will all “play the box.” The example is also good because Alexander, who proposed and carried out this trip to the morgue, took a very creative approach to the practice of awareness of death :). Which, in general, makes me happy as a training leader (it’s always nice to work with people who are ready to try and search for their knowledge). This is not only an example of “tuning in to the awareness of death,” but also an example of independent search.

The only drawback that can be noted about this report (dedicated to the practice of death awareness) is the weak use of the results of this experience for a deep and serious study of the topic of death. In my opinion, most of this undoubtedly most valuable experience was simply not used.

This experience could serve as a strong impetus, a stimulus to the search for inner knowledge regarding death, as well as a deepening and strengthening of the idea of ​​​​death. In this case, I can state a weak reflection on this experience - “the internal excavations were never carried out” :), as well as a weak transfer of this into my life. If this experience was used later, it was used extremely ineffectively. This came up in a subsequent session where the week's results were discussed. However, in fairness, it is worth noting that this was the beginning of the practice of awareness of death. In any case, this is another step forward.

Valery Chugreev, 03/23/2005

huravi 25.03.2009 17:39

I study at a medical college, just yesterday we went to the morgue after the trip, a taste for life has appeared, everything has become more acutely aware that you are living, but sooner or later you will also be lying on the autopsy table
LET'S LIVE IN SHORT

Eugene 26.09.2010 23:36

Guys, for there to be a shock, you need emotions.
And not just corpses.
Emotions mean taking the body of a deceased person and, amid the painful crying of loved ones and relatives, taking them out into the street and taking them to the cemetery (or carrying them).
And then - chronicle.
The biggest shock you will get is when it is your family and friends or relatives of your loved ones. Or your friends. Then you will understand xy from xy.
And so - you are just still small. And they did not see death, although they looked at it with all their eyes.

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Nina 13.06.2012 11:25

I completely agree with Evgeniy
And also - to understand, you need to independently go home to the person who died (just on the street, in front of you) and inform your relatives about the death - and fully feel the full weight of such news...
After all, it’s apparently not important for the dead - it’s hard for the living, who have lost a loved one...

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_-Shadow-_ 10.10.2016 10:32

I studied at the medical school and attended an autopsy once.
At the same time, I have been reading Lobsang Rampa for several days. It was easier to tune in to the fact that I would just see a body. And the opening is like cutting old special clothing into rags.

As was written above - in fact, the corpse looked like a perfect wax doll (there was a girl about 6 years old. Just look at a leg or arm. This instantly caught my eye. A wax doll with the feeling that it was almost alive A little more and she will begin to move on her own (the corpse was fresh, almost from a hospital bed).

I noticed that when they cut my body, I had a disgusting feeling. It's like they're cutting me open... under anesthesia. The feeling is exactly the same. There is no pain, but the sensation itself is disgusting. Whoever was injected with the anesthetic knows.

All this slimy and wet, all this tripe is unpleasant. But I didn’t notice any strong disgust. I was more afraid of the smell than the contents of the person. When there is no smell, it’s not so disgusting)))

However... the expected stench was not there (it’s also good that the body was young, and not some rotten and slagged adult/old man)))
There was a specific smell. I remember him well. I hear it clearly when I pass by the meat department at the market)))

There was a vague and incomprehensible attitude towards all this. From the old, obsessive fears emerged that this piece of meat had its own life (some kind of hostile entity that could suddenly wake up and start moving). I had the same bullshit in relation to the TV as a child - there was an obsessive fear that something lived in it. Fear that it might come to life, “turn on.”
What’s new is that it’s just a useless mannequin or a construction set “a la Lego.” True, without much opportunity to put it back together))
There was some kind of concern for this abandoned body. "What will happen to him next?" I noticed a sense of fuss and haste in myself, as if something could be fixed or done better.
There was also some sadness. Something has ended, something has broken, it has become empty and boring - this is how you can define it. The main thing is not to indulge later)
I still understand that this sadness is not normal. Something is wrong here, there shouldn't be some kind of heaviness. Death should be easier and simpler than we are used to perceiving it.

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The work of a forensic expert is traditionally included in the list of the most undesirable occupations in the whole world, and many people have ideas about it based on old tales and movie stereotypes. We know little about this specialty because, in principle, we are afraid to think about death. But in vain, because, paradoxically as it sounds, it is part of life.

website asked me to talk about my profession as a forensic expert with 30 years of experience. Alexey Kupryushin was the head of the regional forensic morgue for 20 years. Now he combines the work of a forensic expert and pathologist, and is also engaged in non-state forensic medical examination. Recently, Alexey started writing a blog, where he calls his work “live and interesting.” And we cannot disagree with him.

About choosing a profession

• The main reason I became a forensic scientist was my research interest. It's like a drug. It's boring to live without him. What's the interest? No one except you knows how a particular person works. What is there behind the appearance, behind the skin and bones? Only you know this. Often only you understand why a person died.
• Sometimes experts become those who could not work as other doctors. For example, I could never become a surgeon. It is unacceptable for me to interfere with living nature. The maximum I can do to a living person is an injection.
• Forensic scientists and pathologists are often confused, but they are not the same thing. Pathological anatomy and forensic medicine are different specialties. But they have a lot in common. The general object of study is a corpse. General autopsy technique. The differences are only in the details. Lots of common tasks. The goals are different. For pathologists, this is assistance in the diagnostic and treatment process. Judicial officers have the goal of promoting justice.
• It can be very difficult to find morgue attendants. A person comes, works for a month, can’t stand it and leaves, despite a stable and, in general, good salary. One day, a nurse could not be found for a whole month. My wife (she is a pathologist) was once riding in a taxi and got into conversation with the driver. Apparently, she talked about the work so interestingly that he wanted to come and try it. Mortuary orderlies do not need any medical education; they undergo training on site. The taxi driver came and stayed. It still works.

About workdays

• Approximately 300–400 bodies a year are autopsied by one medical examiner in a city of one million people. It happens that even 500. This is a lot: the recommended norm is only 100, but this only works for district medical examiners. This is very bad. There is a wave behind which there is no time to think or develop. There are not enough forensic experts, medical students are not eager to work in the morgue.
• A forensic expert spends more time in the office than in the examination room. Examination of a corpse is not the only or even the most complete way to obtain information. In my practice, there have been cases when the research lasted several hours, and its analysis and formulation of conclusions took several days.
• A good sense of smell gives the forensic scientist some advantages when it comes to determining what kind of poison a person was poisoned with. During the examination, you can smell different smells. In case of poisoning with ammonia - the smell of carbolic acid and ammonia, dichloroethane - rotten dry mushrooms, hydrocyanic acid or nitrobenzene - bitter almonds, amyl alcohol - the smell of fusel oil, butyl alcohol - fruit, chlorophos or karbofos - garlic.

• Nurse Anna Nosova worked at my first morgue for many years. I found her already an old woman. Always wearing a headscarf and felt boots, with a hooked nose and huge tassels, she reminded me of Baba Yaga. We young experts often called her to smell the corpse. She brought her “Baba Yaga” nose to her body and in a quiet, hoarse voice clearly and solemnly pronounced: “acetone” or “technical liquid.”
• Quite often, psychic grandmothers come to the morgue and ask for the water they used to wash the bodies. They need to either cause damage or a love spell. The orderlies give them water from the tap - it’s a pity, isn’t it? Also in demand are ropes from the necks of hanged men, linen, and personal belongings of the dead.
• When bandits were brought in in the 90s, their colleagues came to the morgue, threatened, and tried to take the body by force. The brothers believed that an autopsy was not a concept. It happened that we had to call riot police and cordon off the morgue.
• Sometimes our work can be deadly. You never know what you might encounter while researching. There were cases, and quite a few, when experts, orderlies and laboratory assistants became infected with tuberculosis. And also plague, cholera, anthrax - but this is no longer in our latitudes.
• In the provinces, a forensic expert with 10 years of experience receives about 50 thousand rubles. In Moscow, sometimes there are 100 thousand, but you need to work even more.

About deaths that might not have happened

• I believe that starting from high school, schools need to teach the basics of human health. By the age of 15–20, people should know when they are healthy and when they are not. If symptoms appear that have never existed before, or something hurts and does not go away, you need to go to the doctor. Under no circumstances should you endure it and hope that it will go away on its own. Of course, if you don’t want them to say later: “What a strong man! How sick I was, but I didn’t tell anyone!”
• The most common invisible “soft” killer is high blood pressure. What fool would measure it at a young age? To which I would object: “Fools don’t measure him!” If my head hurts, I take a pain reliever. Or maybe we don’t drink. The pain is not severe. And so - for several years. Over the years, the elasticity of the artery wall, including the brain, is lost. And another increase in pressure leads to rupture. The result is intracerebral hemorrhage and death.
• One day I examined the corpse of a student. She died standing at the window. Two weeks before the sad event, the girl suffered a respiratory viral infection on her feet. The disease has passed. There was a slight malaise, slight shortness of breath and tingling in the chest. All this did not bother her much, and she did not see a doctor. It turned out that it was in vain. Myocarditis (inflammation of the heart muscle) was a complication of ARVI.

• When working with any source of increased danger, such as electric current, you must always follow safety precautions. People usually approach this issue very lightly.
• If there is a fire, do not look for money, jewelry and documents - you will earn them, buy them and restore them. Save yourself and save others. It only takes a moment for a burn to form. Also, during a fire, carbon monoxide is quickly released. There is so much of it that, after taking a few breaths, a person loses consciousness and dies, and then gets burned.
• Pond and alcohol are a dangerous combination. A lot of drownings happen while intoxicated. Very rapid hypothermia may play a role here. Dilated skin vessels contract sharply. The heart must push an increased amount of blood, and it cannot cope. The man loses consciousness. On land he could wake up after some time, but in water the lungs quickly fill with liquid and the person dies.
• Several times I had to examine the corpses of drivers who died in the city from a collision with an obstacle at low speed - about 40 km/h. Death occurred instantly from heart failure. At the moment of impact, it was filled with blood as much as possible. This phase of the heart is called diastole. Due to the hydrodynamic shock, the blood tore into the heart. If the seat belt had been fastened, the impact would have been less severe. If a few ribs were broken, they wouldn't die from that.
• At high speed, the feeling of being protected by the car's iron parts is imaginary. Upon impact, the cabin deforms like a cardboard box if you step on it. Therefore, when you are driving at an exorbitant speed, it is correct to imagine that the body is made of cardboard.
• During fights, people often hit each other on the head. There are usually no serious consequences other than bruises on the face. But I work in a morgue and only see deaths. Any person who hit another on the head did not think that his blow would cause hemorrhages and swelling in the brain. Most likely he didn't want this. What if you stopped and thought? I wouldn't hit him. One person would remain alive, the other would be free!
• In A.P. Chekhov’s story, a drowned man who showed signs of life was pumped and crushed to death. But when was this? In those days, people did not study life safety, did not watch medical programs on TV, and did not read brochures on first aid. Now we have all this, and also the Internet and YouTube. But who knows how to do chest compressions correctly? To bring a person back to life, not to finish him off.

About professional deformation

• At first, when I first started working as a forensic scientist, I couldn’t get rid of the habit of imagining what other people had inside. I'm riding on the bus, I see a beautiful girl - and I think what her internal organs look like. After some time passed.
• My wife and I met at the morgue. That day there was a terrible accident on the highway in the city, and I worked in emergency mode. She was a doctor and had to attend her patient's autopsy. That's how we met. Our first New Year was celebrated in the morgue - I was on duty. Then my wife became a pathologist, and, of course, at home we often talk about our favorite job.
• I lie on my back, looking at the sky with cirrus clouds. I think they remind me of something. I remembered: if you cut the wall of the heart lengthwise, parallel to the front or back surface, this is what the trace after a myocardial infarction will look like. Only instead of the blue sky, red-brown heart muscle may be visible along the edges of the whitish area. Post-infarction cardiosclerosis is called.

About stereotypes

• There are many stories about dead people reviving in the morgue, but I have only encountered two such cases. Both times it was an alcoholic coma. Alcoholics were placed in a refrigerator, where they later woke up, and then, having sobered up, they left the morgue.
• It is not true that we are cold cynics. We are no more and no less cynics than all other doctors.
• There is no death from old age! There is the death of an old man from illness.
• More than once I have heard the opinion that our work, compared to the work of surgeons, is not so responsible and intense: no matter what mistake you make, you will not harm the person. This particular person - no, but you can harm someone else. They may imprison an innocent person or not imprison a guilty one. The fates of many people often depend on my work.
• Previously, alcoholism was considered an occupational disease of forensic experts. I don't know about before. I have met non-alcoholic experts much more often than alcoholics. As in ordinary life, there are more non-alcoholics than alcoholics.

We hope that now you do not consider the work of a forensic scientist boring and gloomy. We are grateful to Alexey Kupryushin for allowing us to look at the profession through his eyes and wish him success in this difficult, but very necessary and interesting matter.

What other unusual professions would you like to know about first-hand?

Mortuary workers can tell many unusual and creepy stories from their practice. Most of the episodes are associated with the dead who decided to show “signs of life.” More often those who stay in the morgue on night duty encounter them.

“I worked at one time in intensive care. When sending the deceased to the morgue, we always wrote the medical history number on the body of the deceased to avoid confusion.

One day, already after midnight, a hopeless patient died. Leaving my partner in the ward, I ran to our other department on an urgent order from the doctor. When I returned, the body had already been taken away. Only after some time it turned out that the partner forgot to write the “serial” number on her body.

Given the pathologist's malignant nature, a scandal seemed inevitable. I tell her, since I forgot, go now and catch up. And the girl is hysterical, she’s new, she’s not yet used to everything, and who wants to go to the morgue at night? I had to, armed with a bunch of keys, go down into the underground passage, since the morgue was located about a hundred meters from the hospital.

In the refrigerator compartment, I began to pull back the sheets on the gurneys to identify the corpse by face. Suddenly I caught a rustling sound. I turn around and see that on the next gurney, a hand is hanging from the corpse. Well, I think, you never know, they didn’t put it in the right way. She adjusted her hand and looked at him. A very young guy with a grimace of agony on his face and half-open eyes, but not the one I’m looking for.

I walked further between the gurneys. I finally found “my” dead man. I’m writing the number and again I hear a quiet rustle... I look around: on that gurney, the sheet hanging at the edges is slightly swaying, as if from the wind, and this time the leg of a corpse is slowly hanging down.

For some reason I couldn’t scream, I pressed myself against the wall and followed it to the door. She slammed the door and for a long time could not get the key into the lock. After just a few steps, I heard a dull thud, as if this damn gurney had crashed into the iron door of the cell.

Once at the top, I couldn’t light a cigarette - my hands were shaking. Then I found out that this guy was after a car accident, he fought for his life for a very long time, but lost.”

Scratches

A typical “morgue” horror story looks like this. A new employee comes to the morgue, stays on the night shift, and that night something terrible and inexplicable happens to him.

Here, for example, is such a story.

“Once I had to get a job as a night shift worker at one of the morgues. The work is not dusty, within three days, the clientele is flexible, without any special complaints. At first, of course, it was scary and disgusting. Then nothing, I got used to it.

One day I'll go on duty. By evening Mitrich appeared. He worked at this morgue for probably twenty years. He comes and says: “Tonight, lock yourself in the duty room and don’t come out, no matter what happens. It's a bad night today. The first night of the full moon, anything can happen.”

At this point, naturally, I broke down. What epithets have I not bestowed upon Mitrich! It seemed to me a shame that the poorly educated watchman intended to scare me, a person with a higher education. Mitrich listened silently and answered: “As you know, I warned you.” He turned around and went on his way.

After work, the senior dissector stayed with me to talk about various topics. Late in the evening my interlocutor left. I locked the door behind him and was left alone. I checked the refrigeration unit, looked to see if everything was in order in the autopsy rooms, turned off the lights and returned to my duty room.

It’s like this: the entrance door, next to it there’s a duty room and a long T-shaped corridor, at the end of which there are doors leading to the corpse storage area, autopsy rooms and other rooms. Several lamps are lit in the corridor all night. The light in the duty room should also be on, but the guards always turn it off when they go to bed.

The doors, except the entrance, are not closed anywhere, they are simply tightly closed. There was a latch on the door in the duty room, but the door was always left wide open. It was the same that night. It's quiet outside: no wind, no car noise. There is a low moon in the sky. I read Grimelshausen, and from time to time I listen to the silence.

At midnight I felt sleepy. I decided to lie down. And then I hear the door creaking in the corridor. Carefully, almost inaudibly, but it creaked. I looked out of the duty room: in the corridor the light was dim, scattered, and where the doors were, it was dark, nothing was visible. Somehow I felt uneasy. However, I think I'll go and see why the door opened.

I went, and to give myself confidence, I stepped firmly, the steps echoed dully. And then I notice, no, rather, I feel - ahead, in the darkness, some subtle movement. I clearly remember Mitrich’s words: “Lock yourself up and don’t come out, no matter what happens!”

I slowly retreat to the duty room, slam the door and click the latch. There is a rustle of quick steps along the corridor, stopping right at the door. Then from outside the door is pulled hard by the handle. It gives in a few millimeters, but the valve won't let it go any further. A vague dark silhouette flashes through the crack, and the distinct sweetish smell of a corpse seeps into the duty room.

The next moment I grab the doorknob with wild force. And from the corridor something incredibly creepy is trying to get into me! He scratches the door, pulls the handle, fumbles along the doorframes and walls, and all this happens in complete silence. Only the smell of formaldehyde and cold draws you in from behind the door.

With dawn, deathly silence sets in in the corridor. No one scratches or breaks at the door anymore. But for a long time I still cannot let go of the handle: I stand there, clutching it with my fingers, white from tension.

The persistent ringing of the bell brings me back to reality and forces me to throw open the door. The corridor is ordinary and empty, which is why it seems that everything that happened at night was a wild, nightmare. The lock, as always, jams, and I can’t open it for a long time. Finally I succeed. On the porch, the shift worker grins cheerfully: “Well, you’re good to sleep!” I’ve been calling for an hour!”

I mutter indistinctly that I had too much alcohol, didn’t hear anything, and that in general it’s better not to touch me today. The workday is in full swing, but I just can’t bring myself to go home. I nervously smoke on the porch at the service entrance and desperately try to understand what happened at night - reality or a dream. A senior dissector is smoking nearby, asking me something, I answer him something, but in my head there is only one thought: “It was a dream, this cannot be!”

Here an intern comes out onto the porch: “Andrei Andreevich, a strange case. I’m preparing the corpse of a drowned man for autopsy, well, the one that was brought in the day before yesterday, and there’s a lot of white paint under his nails.”

“What’s strange about this?” - the senior dissector asks lazily.

“The paint is dried out and old, but the breaks and torn off nails on the corpse’s hands, in my opinion, are post-mortem, fresh.”

They leave, and I go to the door to the duty room. At the height of human growth, semicircular scratches and uneven chips clearly appear on the smooth white surface.”

Ghosts in the Corpse Vault

“It was a couple of years ago. I then worked as a night watchman at a morgue. On my first shift, the men began to intimidate me with all sorts of stories. And the old shift worker told me not to close the doors under any circumstances. For some reason he didn't strike me as a joker.

Of course, I would never have left the door open if one woman had not calmed me down. Her name was Nadezhda Solntseva. She said that besides me, other people stay here on the night shift.

On the first night, everything was like that: there were three people left, including Solntseva herself. They were all in the body storage (they smeared grease on their heels), and I was in the guardhouse. Everything was calm, except that somewhere the parquet would creak, but I blamed it all on the dope I had smoked. Two nights passed comparatively

And then, quite by accident, I came across a dossier on my replacement. I'm a curious person and decided to take a look there. I remember I was amazed - it was written there that he was only 37 years old, but he looked like he was 75-80. And it also said that he was in a civil marriage with Solntseva.

On the eve of my third shift, the shift worker came up to me and said that he would stay on duty with me today, because his wife allegedly left and did not leave the keys to the apartment. I was surprised, because Solntseva was in the dining room at that moment, I saw her there five minutes ago. Well, to hell with it, I think.

And that night no one remained in the morgue except the two of us and that same Solntseva. But I was kind of nervous. The old man noticed this and said: “Calm down, if you’re drinking, then go to the store and get some vodka, I’ll fill up with you too.” I thought this was a good idea: I’ll go, take a break, and it’ll be calmer.

I walked slowly, I was gone for about forty minutes. On the way to the morgue, I heard wild female screams that made me shiver. I ran faster, you never know, it’s my duty!

When I ran inside, everything was quiet, my replacement was sitting in the corner and breathing heavily. He held a rosary in his hands and quickly read prayers. His gray hair was tousled, there were bruises on his face, and his eyes were empty.

Deciding to figure out what was going on, I ran to the storage facility to see what was happening to Solntseva. But she wasn't inside. I returned to the shift worker and began to question him, but he continued to pray. I remembered about vodka, opened it, began to pour it into his glass, he saw it, began to hum helplessly, like a mute, and reach for the bottle.

After I gave him the bottle, he began to drink greedily and walked away a little. Then he took me to the storage of bodies, led me to one of the refrigerators, and I saw that on the label it was written: “Solntseva Nadezhda.”

Then a shock struck me. I quickly took my backpack and left. The next day I came to find out what and how, but it turned out that no one there had even heard of Solntseva or this old man!”

Excursion to an abandoned hospital

But what exactly the heroes of this story had to face is difficult to even imagine.

"My name is Vitalik. I am 11 years old, I live in the city of Sevastopol. My friends and I love to walk around all sorts of wastelands and construction sites. One day we found one place, a five-story abandoned building - a former tuberculosis department with a morgue. After classes we drank soda there, ate crackers, etc.

One day we all failed a test and went to this abandoned hospital in a bad mood. There were about five or six of us. Since we were studying on the second shift, it was already dark. My friend Seryoga suggested going to the morgue. At first the guys were scared, but then we went there anyway.

It turned out to be quite scary inside: a dark corridor, scratched walls and all sorts of cones. But the worst thing awaited us ahead: some creature was lying on the bed. When it moved, I could see the straitjacket. It was definitely a man.

We all rushed to the exit and never approached this hospital again. Only six months later we learned that eight mutilated bodies were found in that morgue. It turned out that they had been there for about a year. It shocked us so much that we didn’t go out for a walk for about a month.”

Of course, we cannot vouch for the authenticity of all the above stories. But it cannot be denied that a lot of strange and incomprehensible things happen in life. And where there is a fragile line between life and death, this is especially striking.

Morgue - there is so much in this word: for some - fear, for others - grief, and for others - work. A young pathologist, Olga Kishonkova, told Bolshaya Derevna why she loves her profession, why autopsies are dangerous, and whether morgue life in Russian TV series about cops is close to reality.

Studies

I have been working as a pathologist at the Chapaevsk Central City Hospital for two years now. I dreamed of this profession since the 8th grade and already by the time I entered the medical university, I dismissed all other specializations. So no one forced me or asked me, there were no doctors in my family either. All my relatives thought that I would graduate from the Polytechnic University, become a process engineer and work at a factory. But I'm not looking for easy ways.

Pathological anatomy attracted me. This is a fundamental science that allows you to study everything thoroughly and get to the bottom of it, to find out what other doctors cannot see, simply because they do not have the opportunity to delve so deeply. Only we provide the final and most accurate diagnosis. I must say that among my fellow students - and the flow of students at the Faculty of Medicine is about three hundred people - I am the only one who chose pathological anatomy. At the same time, my classmates were interested in this specialty, respected my choice and always supported me.

The first time we went to the autopsy was during a couple of pathological anatomy, which is quite logical. The class took place in the morgue of the Pirogov hospital. We observed the autopsy of a man in his 70s who died of an ischemic stroke. It was both a fascinating and slightly frightening sight, everyone stood with their mouths open. No one got sick, because first of all we were driven by interest.

I believe every medical student should attend an autopsy. How can a cardiologist deal with heart disease if he has not seen this very organ with his own eyes, has not touched it with his hands, but has only admired the picture in a textbook? However, the teacher does not have the right to force the student to come to the autopsy, even if the reason for reluctance is fear. I had a friend who studied at the pediatric faculty. When her group was taken to the autopsy, she refused to attend this class because she was pregnant and did not want unnecessary worries.

I come from Chapaevsk and, starting from my third year, I spent the whole summer at the Chapaevsky morgue. It was no secret that I was going to work there. The internship where I underwent specialized training was also aware of my experience, so they immediately entrusted me with performing autopsies on my own, under the supervision of a supervisor.

It was there that I realized that my expectations from work and reality coincided. I expected to go to work every day with anticipation and desire, and that’s what happened. There hasn't been a single day when I didn't want to go to the hospital.

Research

My job is not only to examine the bodies of the dead, but also to study biopsies ( fabric samples - approx. ed.) living people. Each sample is unique - no glass is the same, so every day I see something new.

The process of tissue research occurs as follows: first, samples taken from a person must lie in a formaldehyde solution for 24 hours, then they are poured with paraffin - in order to obtain a thin, thin section. It is fixed on glass and then painted - I can’t see a colorless preparation in a microscope. All these manipulations are performed by laboratory assistants. When the preparation dries, the glass is brought to me - I look at it under a microscope and make my conclusion. The entire process usually takes three to four days.

Because of the harmfulness of the work, pathologists have a little more vacation than other doctors - 42 days a year. This is due to the fact that we work with chemicals, for example, formaldehyde, laboratory assistants use different paints and acids. Sometimes you come home and feel that your clothes smell of chemicals. Naturally, we breathe all these fumes - it’s like being in a chemical factory.

However, there are disgusting smells, as everyone thinks, in the sectional ( the room where autopsies are performed - approx. ed.) no, if all sanitation rules are followed. There are certain odors that depend on what pathology the deceased had, but during operations the same ones are present in the operating room. If you walk a person blindfolded, he will not understand which of these two rooms he is in.

Operating procedure

I go to Chapaevsk from Samara every day. I try to be at work by 7:45. I change into work clothes - this is both a safety precaution and my own interests: I think no one wants the biological fluids of the deceased to remain on his everyday clothes. Then I leave the office for the period of mandatory processing - quartzing. I go to the laboratory, say hello to my colleagues, find out the scope of future work: how many dead have been received, how many biopsies have been performed. We discuss questions regarding autopsies with the boss, and invite the attending physicians to attend. In theory, they should be present at the autopsies of their patients. It happens that the doctor does not come - for example, he is a surgeon and is performing an operation at that moment or is on a round. This is not criminal - anyway, after the autopsy we call him to announce the cause of death.

Before we begin, be sure to study the medical history: when the person was admitted to the hospital, with what complaints, what treatment was prescribed, what happened next, what resuscitation measures were provided. The head of the department then decides who gets which autopsy. And let's get to work.

During the autopsy, the most important thing for the doctor is your own safety: you won’t cause any harm, but you can get infected very easily. Hence the appropriate form of clothing: a plastic apron, a cap and safety glasses or a screen. The screen protects your entire face, and if you are wearing glasses, you definitely need to cover your respiratory organs with something - at least wear a mask. Gloves and sleeves, rubber shoes are required. Underneath all this protection, a surgical suit must be worn, which is kept in the department at all times and washed in the hospital laundry.

Also, the department must have an anti-plague suit - in case of very dangerous infections transmitted by airborne droplets. It completely protects all skin, mucous membranes and respiratory tracts, and adheres tightly to the skin. The costume consists of overalls, two robes, a hood, a headscarf, goggles, a cotton-gauze mask, rubber gloves, boots, stockings and a towel.

We work five days a week from 8-00 to 14-00 with days off on Saturday and Sunday. On Saturday, the doctor on duty comes out and performs autopsies on newly admitted patients so that they don’t accumulate too many over the weekend. We deal with those who died on Sunday on Monday. Autopsies are performed in the first half of the day; we do not work after lunch.

Documentation

During the autopsy, several pieces of tissue are taken from each organ for histological examination. It is performed to confirm the diagnosis and allows you to accurately determine the presence of pathologies in other organs and tissues. Thus, the autopsy protocol consists of two parts: the autopsy itself and histological examination of the preparations.

In the first section, the pathologist describes in detail what he saw at the autopsy, starting with the external examination and ending with the condition of all organs and tissues. This should be done immediately after the procedure, while everything is fresh in your memory. When the histology is ready, it is examined under a microscope, evaluated, entered into the protocol, a conclusion is given, it is printed out, signed and handed over to the attending physician.

In addition to reports on autopsies and biopsies, I compile a report on mortality from myocardial infarction for the week - every Tuesday I present reports to the chief of medicine, who then reports to the chief physician. Once a month I check the mortality rate with the registry office in order to promptly identify errors and inconsistencies in medical death certificates. We also issue certificates upon request: people come for information about deceased relatives, which, for example, was requested by the bank.

Sometimes they tell me: “You’re lucky - you don’t meet scandalous patients.” I can object: the deceased patients have relatives - their temperaments are different, their behavior is different. Sometimes conflicts arise due to misunderstandings: someone misunderstood something or we did not explain it correctly. I always try to prevent such situations, I never speak in a raised voice, for example, I look for peaceful negotiations.

Autopsies

Depending on the diagnosis, there are five categories of autopsy difficulty. The fifth, most difficult, category includes, for example, people with AIDS and HIV. Firstly, it is an increased danger. Secondly, HIV infection causes complications in many organs, and it is necessary to recognize in which organ what happened. But patients with strokes are the second category. There are no big difficulties here - the stroke is immediately visible.

If I have doubts, I can postpone the diagnosis until histological studies are carried out - everything is visible much better under a microscope. Or I can make a presumptive diagnosis, and then change it based on the fact that histological studies gave a different picture.

The morally hardest thing is to autopsy young boys and women, especially those who died during childbirth - in Pirogovka I had the opportunity to take part in such autopsies a couple of times. It’s a pity and a shame for these people, but death is death: it’s not for us to decide their fate.

Autopsies of children under 14 years of age are performed only at the First Children's City Hospital; this is carried out by individual specialists - pediatric pathologists. Mostly people who come to us are 60-80 years old. There are different diseases, but the most common causes of death are stroke and heart attack. These are acute and sudden conditions, and doctors are not always able to prevent death.

On average, we perform 2-3, sometimes 4, autopsies a day. There are, of course, many more biopsies. There is also the concept of cutting - when an organ, for example, the gallbladder or uterus, is cut out during surgery. It must be sent to us, and we describe it in detail: color, size, thickness, what is visible on the section, and also take samples for histology.

There are days when there are no autopsies at all, but sometimes it’s the other way around: one Saturday no one had the opportunity to be on duty, and on Monday 13 corpses were waiting for us. But we must take into account that we are taking over the entire south of the Samara region: Pokhvistnevo, Pestravka, Volga region, Khvorostyanka, Krasnoarmeysky district. Many hospitals do not have their own morgues, and the corpses are brought to us. Biopsies are also sent from all hospitals adjacent to Chapaevsk, which do not have their own pathology department.

Stereotypes

There are three pathologists in our department: the head, me and a doctor who has been working in the morgue for a very long time, now he is over 70 years old. He mainly deals with histological research, because performing autopsies is already physically difficult for him. Three female laboratory assistants work in the laboratory. Our relationship is good, we clear up any misunderstandings immediately.

The head of our department is such an impressive guy. His appearance fully corresponds to the stereotypical ideas about huge, gloomy men-pathologists. However, my observations do not confirm this stereotype: for example, very beautiful girls work in the morgue of the oncology clinic - slender, smiling. In Pirogovka, too, all the pathologists are mostly women - intelligent, highly educated people. There are no contradictions here: a significant part of our activity - working with a microscope in the laboratory - does not involve heavy physical labor, and during an autopsy you can always call a nurse for help.

We don't encounter ridiculous deaths - that's forensic medicine. In general, it must be said that pathological anatomy and forensic examination are two completely different branches. Forensic experts have a clear division into doctors involved in autopsies ( autopsies - approx. ed.) and histologists, the collection of blood and biological fluids of the deceased is mandatory. We don't have that. All their deaths, unlike ours, were hospital deaths, criminal or sudden. As a result, the only thing that unites us is that we perform autopsies and look at histology. But these are such generalities - it’s like saying that all doctors are the same because they treat.

Rumors that things of the deceased are stolen from morgues are completely nonsense. Most often, people who die in a hospital are brought in in hospital clothes, without their belongings.

People often ask if our corpses come to life and if it’s scary to be in the morgue. They can be understood: they encounter the dead infrequently, at some sad moment in their lives. When you see the dead every day, it becomes commonplace for you. You get used to everything. About the living dead - no, guys, this doesn’t happen.