05 December 2006
Today a guy at a construction site died, a labourer hauling concrete. I didn't witness it but either he stumbled or someone bumped him and he fell five stories near the elevator shaft. And aside from thinking about those horrific moments of fear he must have had I can't help thinking about the little things, I guess. Who had to call his wife? Who had to gather up his tools and lunchbox? Who went through his wallet for ID? And it's sad. No one goes to work thinking they won't come home at night.
And it happened at 11h00...what was I doing then? I was thinking of calling my doc at lunchtime and deciding whether or not to go to the Mexican market after work for some chorizo and queso fresco. We all get these ideas about, "Later I'll do this..." I'm sure he had those thoughts too, but he never got to do any of them. Maybe he had plans this weekend. Maybe he was working an extra shift for the holidays coming up.
I don't know why I torture myself thinking like this, but it's the normal, mundane stuff that gets me. I remember getting off work at 14h30, thinking that his wife might not even know yet. OSHA hadn't arrived, and the coroner takes so long....
I hate that I used to work in a mortuary and think of this stupid crap. Sorry it's kind of icky, just everytime a guy at work dies it kind of gets to me.