12 Days of Interests Christmas / Killing your husband with a sherry enema, cleaning up after death
Okay, now I don't have to scroll everywhere to post something... and the font is actually READABLE now! That's GOOD. But why is the autosave at the bottom below the post now? I'd like it at the top since I'm used to seeing it there. Oh well.
Today's Detrimental Yet Truly Morbid Fact!
A woman has been indicted on negligent homicide charges for allegedly giving her husband a sherry enema that killed him. Michael Warner, 58, died in May 2004 after the enema caused his blood-alcohol level to rise to .47 percent. "That's extremely high," Detective Lt. Robert Turner said. "You're either going to be in the hospital or the funeral home with that much alcohol." Tammy Warner, 42, was indicted last week. Turner said Michael Warner was an alcoholic who could not swallow liquor because of ulcers and heartburn. "He was told that he could not drink alcohol or he would die, according to the people that we interviewed," Turner said. "We are going to prove that she gave him the sherry, and that she knew that he wasn't supposed to have any, and that it could be detrimental to his health, and that she gave it to him anyway."
Culled from: AP
Generously submitted by: Raven Bathory
**********************************************************************
Now, here's a guy who lived (and died) by Charles Bukowski's immortal words, "Anybody can be a non-drunk. It takes a special talent to be a drunk. It takes endurance. Endurance is more important than truth."
*******
The Comtesse Reviews...
New York Noir: Crime Photos from the Daily News Archive
This is an interesting collection of crime scene photographs from the coffers of the Daily News. The most famous photo is the image of Ruth Snyder on the electric chair, which is reproduced in its full version here, which I had never seen before. There are a number of ghastly images, but the most powerful ones are the stark "noirish" shots of detectives and prisoners on their way to the courthouse, or at the scene of the crime in the process of being arrested. A fascinating collection. 4/5 skulls.
*******
Morbid Link Du Jour!
Holly offers the following link:
"Bio Cleaning Services of America is a service that cleans up the mess left after 'Homicides, Suicides, Accidental, and Unattended Death.' It's a thing that most people don't like to think about but they have to do -- when someone gets splattered all over a room, they're the ones who go in and scrub them off the walls.
"The articles page is particularly interesting; the article 'An Anatomy of a Bio Clean' describes in detail how the company cleans up the mess left after a person died and wasn't found for two weeks - which is when the person downstairs noticed a greasy brown substance dripping through the ceiling."
"I know the .doc format is a little annoying, but it's virus-free and very worth reading. Give it a look."
*******
"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 breathe 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 me "off the ledge."
On the twelfth day of Christmas, LESLIE sent to me...
Twelve oddities reading
Eleven photos writing
Ten books a-laughing
Nine bands commenting
Eight twins a-playing
Seven biographies a-talking
Six memories a-learning
Five aski-i-i-ing questions
Four serial killers
Three message boards
Two outlander series
... and a language in a crime library.
Today's Detrimental Yet Truly Morbid Fact!
A woman has been indicted on negligent homicide charges for allegedly giving her husband a sherry enema that killed him. Michael Warner, 58, died in May 2004 after the enema caused his blood-alcohol level to rise to .47 percent. "That's extremely high," Detective Lt. Robert Turner said. "You're either going to be in the hospital or the funeral home with that much alcohol." Tammy Warner, 42, was indicted last week. Turner said Michael Warner was an alcoholic who could not swallow liquor because of ulcers and heartburn. "He was told that he could not drink alcohol or he would die, according to the people that we interviewed," Turner said. "We are going to prove that she gave him the sherry, and that she knew that he wasn't supposed to have any, and that it could be detrimental to his health, and that she gave it to him anyway."
Culled from: AP
Generously submitted by: Raven Bathory
**********************************************************************
Now, here's a guy who lived (and died) by Charles Bukowski's immortal words, "Anybody can be a non-drunk. It takes a special talent to be a drunk. It takes endurance. Endurance is more important than truth."
*******
The Comtesse Reviews...
New York Noir: Crime Photos from the Daily News Archive
This is an interesting collection of crime scene photographs from the coffers of the Daily News. The most famous photo is the image of Ruth Snyder on the electric chair, which is reproduced in its full version here, which I had never seen before. There are a number of ghastly images, but the most powerful ones are the stark "noirish" shots of detectives and prisoners on their way to the courthouse, or at the scene of the crime in the process of being arrested. A fascinating collection. 4/5 skulls.
*******
Morbid Link Du Jour!
Holly offers the following link:
"Bio Cleaning Services of America is a service that cleans up the mess left after 'Homicides, Suicides, Accidental, and Unattended Death.' It's a thing that most people don't like to think about but they have to do -- when someone gets splattered all over a room, they're the ones who go in and scrub them off the walls.
"The articles page is particularly interesting; the article 'An Anatomy of a Bio Clean' describes in detail how the company cleans up the mess left after a person died and wasn't found for two weeks - which is when the person downstairs noticed a greasy brown substance dripping through the ceiling."
"I know the .doc format is a little annoying, but it's virus-free and very worth reading. Give it a look."
*******
"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 breathe 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 me "off the ledge."
Labels: 1993, 2004, alcoholic drinks, christmas, kevin, languages, lj, maxed-out tags limit, memes, michael, morbid facts, pizza, ray, reading, ruth, serial killers, the surrealist, true crime, twins, water
posted by Flami at 10:16:00 PM
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