Feature
Segment - Funeral
Directors
Funeral Directors
They do their best to comfort grieving families, but they
often feel like pariahs. Next time you meet one at a cocktail party,
give him a break.
By David Tuller
William Counce loves football.
He also loves parties. He particularly loves chatting about football at
parties. That's why he was so upset at one social gathering when the
woman with whom he was having a lively discussion about the University
of Tennessee football team asked him what he did for a living.
He told her he was a funeral
director.
"There was dead silence,"
recalls Counce, who is also the director of the funeral-service program
at Jefferson State Community College in Birmingham, Alabama. "Then the
lady said, 'Oh, my mother died six months ago. How did they get that
smile on her face?' Now that's the last thing I want to talk about when
we're connecting about football. It was unpleasant. It made me have to
assume a posture with her to reassure her that I wasn't what she
thought -- some sort of ghoul. If you let the stigma bother you, it's
stressful."
Few people would be surprised
to learn that those working in funeral services may be at risk for
exposure to infectious diseases and to toxic embalming substances, but
they probably don't realize that, for many funeral directors, stress
may poses a greater danger to their health and well-being.
Licensed funeral directors -- a
great many of whom are also licensed as embalmers -- are acutely aware
of the public's negative image of them. They know that people assume
they have an unnatural interest in corpses or are out to rip off the
customer at a time of emotional vulnerability. And that awareness takes
an enormous psychological and emotional toll, which -- if not addressed
-- can easily result in burnout.
"They feel like pariahs
sometimes, and it really bothers them," says Sherry Williams, president
of Accord Grief Management Services, a consulting firm in Louisville,
Kentucky, that works extensively with funeral service professionals.
"They all talk about that, about the remarks people make. Some tell me
they can't even go to the hospital to visit friends because they'll get
comments like, 'I'm not dying yet, don't come and measure me.'"
Funeral directors -- the term
is preferred to the more archaic 'mortician' and 'undertaker' -- say
the notion that they are obsessed with death and corpses represents a
deep misunderstanding of the nature of their work. They note that they
spend only about 15 percent of their time with the bodies; the rest is
spent with the living, either counseling the bereaved, organizing the
funeral, or performing administrative duties.
And this work, too, is highly
stressful; like doctors, funeral directors are on call 24 hours a day.
"You get calls in the middle of the night, then you have to meet with
the families first thing in the morning," says Jacquie Taylor,
president of the San Francisco College of Mortuary Science and funeral
director at the affiliated College Chapel Mortuary. "We always say this
would be a great job if we could get people to die Monday through
Friday from 9 to 5, but we can't seem to get them to do that."
While some people take a year
or more to plan weddings, funeral directors usually have just a couple
of days to pull off one of the biggest and most important rituals in
people's lives. And they often do it 100 or 200 times a year while
having to be sensitive to the needs of people in the throes of intense
emotional distress. "In an attempt to gain control, grieving people
will often lash out at the professionals who are working with them,"
says Williams. "We tell funeral directors that the anger is not
directed at them, but at the situation."
Despite the stress levels,
funeral directors generally echo Jacquie Taylor's sentiment that
helping families cope with their grief is where they find their
greatest sense of accomplishment. "Even though you're dealing with a
lot of sorrow, it's a very rewarding industry and profession," says
Mark Kuhn, funeral director of three small mortuaries in California's
Central Valley. "You help them through the process, and a few weeks
later you get a letter or see them on the street, and they are really
grateful for how we've helped them. It's very gratifying."
But even those who find
fulfillment in the business say the stress can overwhelm them at times.
Many professional conferences now include sessions on relaxation
techniques and coping with what Sherry Williams calls "compassion
fatigue." In her seminars with funeral directors, Williams suggests
various approaches to deal with the problem, including physical
activity, such as running, playing tennis, or working in the garden;
breathing exercises to calm the body; making sure to schedule time for
recreation and hobbies as well as work; creating an "applause box" full
of thank-you cards and notes to review on a bad day; and keeping a
journal, or writing down feelings no matter how outlandish or
unreasonable they may seem.
The seminars also include
strategies for releasing excess anger or other bottled-up emotions. "We
give them rubber bricks to throw," says Williams. "We do some
drum-pounding and throwing pillows and marshmallows at 50 paces. We
tell them, 'What you have to do is put some motion to the emotion.'
"
In the area of physical health,
regulations from the U.S. Occupational Safety and Health Administration
(OSHA) guide funeral homes in their practices; some states, like
California, have promulgated standards stricter than the federal ones.
In general, the laws to prevent transmission of blood-borne pathogens,
such as HIV or the various hepatitis viruses, require anyone
potentially exposed to blood or body fluids to follow what are called
"universal precautions."
"The OSHA standards are not
profession-specific," explains Baltimore attorney Ed Ranier, who
represents the National Funeral Directors Association on OSHA-related
issues. "Universal precautions means treating all blood and body fluids
as if they contain a blood-borne pathogen and acting accordingly."
When handling the body,
embalmers and funeral directors must wear a head cover, a shield to
protect the eyes, a nose-and-mouth mask to screen out particles, a gown
impervious to fluids, surgical gloves and shoe covers. Funeral service
professionals say that cases of transmission of infectious diseases are
extremely rare. They do happen occasionally, however, if someone jabs
himself with a suturing needle, a scalpel, or the wires used to close
the mouth.
William Counce says he recently
spoke with an embalmer who stuck himself while working on the body of a
man who died of Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease, a human cousin of mad cow
disease. "It can have a 20-year incubation period, so he will worry,"
says Counce. "His state of mind is not good. He'll require some
counseling for this."
OSHA also requires workplaces
using formaldehyde to conduct air sampling and ensure that levels of
the gas -- the key substance needed for the embalming process -- do not
exceed legal limits. Formaldehyde is a carcinogen at high levels of
exposure. It can exacerbate respiratory problems and chronic conditions
like asthma and allergies; in liquid form, it can cause skin
irritation.
Many funeral homes test the air
every six months to make sure they have enough ventilation to meet
federal and state standards for allowable concentrations of
formaldehyde. "Most formaldehyde overexposure is in the plastics
industry, not the funeral industry," says attorney Ranier.
A final problem -- and an often
overlooked one -- is injury to muscles and joints. It is a problem,
says Jacquie Taylor of the San Francisco mortuary college, that stems
from a macho ethos. "There are a lot of funeral directors and embalmers
out there with bad backs and knees because they don't lift the bodies
and the caskets right," she says. "I've seen that more among men. They
try to lift more and they say, 'I can lift this, I don't need to wait
for help.'"
David Tuller, a former staff writer for the San
Francisco Chronicle, has written for The New York Times, the Washington
Post, and Salon.com. He is also the author of "Cracks in the Iron
Closet: Travels in Gay and Lesbian Russia" (Faber & Faber 1996).
End
of Feature Segment - |