Crime Scene Cleaner Reveals The One Rule You Never Break
Crime Scene Cleaner's One Unbreakable Rule

A professional who cleans up after some of life's most tragic events has shared a stark insight into her world, detailing the emotional cost and the single, non-negotiable rule of her trade.

The Unseen Toll of Trauma Cleaning

Having worked in the field for several months, the cleaner provides a voluntary service at a coroner's office alongside her paid duties. She paints a vivid picture of the job's variety, from removing boiled human remains from a hot tub to dismantling homes where bodies have decomposed for extended periods.

She is unequivocal about the psychological impact, stating that everyone in this line of work develops PTSD. She herself entered the profession with a prior diagnosis, and the nature of the cleaning has added further layers of trauma, sometimes resulting in graphic nightmares about her own death. This has necessitated ongoing therapy to manage the mental health strain.

The Absolute, Unbreakable Rule

When asked about professional boundaries, the cleaner was clear: the one rule that can never be broken is taking photographs or filming at a scene. Breaching this is grounds for instant dismissal and potential criminal charges.

"For me, it's a respect thing," she explained. "I'd be furious if I knew people were taking photos of my body or remains. I'd be just as angry if someone did that to my loved ones." She emphasised the importance of not letting tragedy define a person's final moments, allowing families to mourn in peace and remember the good in their loved one's life. She also expressed disgust for online gore videos, calling them highly disrespectful to victims.

She added a practical concern: "Plus, I don't want anyone going through my phone thinking I'm a serial killer."

Assisting Investigations and Entering the Profession

Interestingly, her meticulous work has occasionally aided police investigations. In one specific case, she discovered drugs hidden in a cabinet that were missed initially. By checking a cup from which the deceased had been drinking and noticing a strange residue, her report led toxicology to confirm an overdose.

She revealed that she is employed through an agency that collaborates with local police, earning roughly £374 per clean-up job, with the fee varying based on the work required. Entry into the profession involves a training programme lasting several months, covering biohazards and proper cleaning techniques.

She concluded with a sobering note on the hardest part of the job: "literally anything involving kids."