Couple years back when I was getting my EMT certification, I had to do some ER shifts as clinical observations. Halloween of 2011, I'm in a hospital that is in one of the worse parts of the city, they bring in this huge black dude into the ER. Gunshot wound which entered an inch lateral of his left nipple, and exited somewhere by his back right shoulder blade. Obviously DOA, but the hospital needs to at least try basic efforts to resuscitate him, among other things for about 2 minutes. Since I was the young EMT wannabe they had me doing the CPR on him as soon as they brought him in. I still distinctly remember how every time I compressed, he would have a bit of blood squirt out of the hole in his chest. His arm was hanging off the table and, in rhythm with the compressions, it would bump my knee. After the 2 minutes, they called it. We sat around for a couple minutes, the head doctor and surgeon were talking about zombies (referencing another patient). At one point he turns to the rest of the team and says "If that guy gets up, I'm bolting straight for the door and locking it, I don't give a shit how many of you are left in here." We all laughed, and that was about the time the cops walked in.
Oddly enough, it didn't phase me, and my biggest concern was that I'd get his blood on my fairly new pants. Whenever I tell people that story, they say I'm bizarre for not really being affected by doing CPR on a bloody corpse, on Halloween night.
That 8 hour shift had a LOT of interesting stories. Got thrown up on, saw a sharpie in pooper, an explosion victim... the works.