I love reading this thread, here's to waking it back up.
First weeks in the ED. We failed to resuscitate a very large 70ish year old male patient who had an MI. The hearse actually beat the family. Those funeral home workers are odd folks, I tell ya. Not in a bad way, all are very kind people, they are just... odd. Anyway, that said, they tend to refuse help and work alone. This pt was big though, at least 300, so my offer wasn't turned down. We transferred and secured, and just as we were about to push to the hearse (in the ambulance bay) family was at the crash room door. They let us pass, and I still don't know if the funeral home worker was walking dramatically slow or struggling, but that was a long couple of seconds in front of family. Loaded the pt and shut the door. Turned around and shook hands with family as they said thank you. My mind picked one of the pre-made customer service good-byes, and I walked off saying "Have a good day!", before picking up my pace to my own rhythm of "Why, why, whyyyyy did you say that."
Fortunately, one of the family members my age couldn't help but smirk.
Since then I have been around enough mourning families to know I am lucky to have not been beaten that day in the ambulance bay.