- Since she was a girl crime scene cleaner Pamela Joice, 67, has loved to clean.
- Pamela turned her passion into her career, cleaning homes that others refuse to touch.
- No mess is too big, or too small, from crime scenes to hoarder homes, trauma cleaner Pamela has seen it all.
This story covers sensitive topics, if you are struggling and need support, call Lifeline for free 24/7 on 13 11 14 (Aus) or 0800 543 354 (NZ)
Here Pamela tells her story in her own words.
A breakfast bowl and cutlery were set neatly on the kitchen table, where a man had left them for the day ahead.
He’d gone to sleep, ready to wake up and start another day.
But, for him, tomorrow hadn’t come.
Sadly, he’d died suddenly in his sleep and with no family close by, it’d taken a few days for his body to be discovered.
Picking up my cleaning instruments, I let out a heavy, sorrowful sigh.
‘Let’s get to work,’ I said to my team.
It was 2018, and I was working as a certified crime scene and trauma cleaner.
I’d made the rather unorthodox career change in 2016.
At the time I was 49, single, and my son had long grown up and moved out. I was working as an executive assistant, but I’d known it was my calling to clean for years.
As a kid, I was a clean freak. Aged 12, I’d rise and shine before my mum and dad and spend the weekends spraying, scrubbing, sanitising and wiping windows.
I couldn’t get enough of housework, plus I loved helping others.
Reaching adulthood though, life got tough and, marred by tragedy, I turned to cleaning more than ever as a form of therapy and escape.
I turned to cleaning more than ever as a form of therapy and escape.
When I was cleaning, I felt in control. For me, it was like wiping away the past and starting anew.
So the time had felt right to answer my calling.
With all I’d been through, I knew I had the iron will and stomach to face the most confronting clean-ups.
A trauma cleaner specializes in cleaning and restoring spaces affected by traumatic events, such as accidents, crime scenes, unattended deaths, or hoarding situations. They handle biohazards like blood, bodily fluids, and hazardous materials, ensuring the area is safe and sanitary. Beyond cleaning, trauma cleaners often provide compassionate support to clients during difficult times. Their work requires specialized training, protective equipment, and a strong sense of professionalism to navigate both physical and emotional challenges
What does a trauma cleaner do?
Once qualified, I’d set up my own business, Bio Recovery Services, and now I could help clean-up for grieving families, like this man’s, so they didn’t have to. It was a challenging job, but over time I’d got used to it.
Not only did I clean up after those who’d died alone, I dealt with sickening sewage spills – facing putrid smells such as overflowing toilets.
And I also cleaned murder and suicide scenes, as well as hoarder homes.
Once I was called by a mental health agency to help clean a man’s apartment.
Even though he lived there, he felt more comfortable living on the street, but would bring stuff back to his place until it was crammed from floor to ceiling with rubbish.
The walls were black due to insect infestation, and while we cleared, it was raining cockroaches.
My heart ached for the poor guy. Many people label hoarders as disgusting and lazy, but the reality is most hoarders are unwell and struggle to ask for – or get – help.
Then there was the time I was assigned a job after someone had died by suicide, and the family had had no idea about their relative’s state of mind.
While I couldn’t fix what had happened, it was rewarding knowing I’d made the situation easier, so they didn’t have to face the scene.
Another time I cleaned the house of someone who’d been fatally stabbed in their home.
Pulling on my protective overalls, boots, gloves and face mask, seeing the blood-splattered floor, I choked back tears.
It was heartbreaking to see the horrific way their life had ended.
It was so completely senseless.
That’s why after each job we have debriefs, so the sights and situations we deal with are easier to process and we don’t keep our emotions bottled up.
Being a trauma cleaner is full-on and there’s so much more to it than meets the eye.
I talk to grieving families and they confide in me, telling the stories of their deceased loved ones.
It’s draining at times, but people are so grateful for the support.
When I was approached by the CEO of Trauma Clean, Ashley Hood, in 2019, to join forces and come onboard as the general manager, I jumped at the chance.
Then in 2020, when the pandemic hit, the demand for other extreme cleaning services spiralled, and I was on the frontline mopping up the messes caused by Covid.
With extensive experience and knowledge of deep cleans, I also became a specialist in methamphetamine remediation, virus disinfection and drug lab decontamination.
Now, I’ve been working for Trauma Clean for five years and I have no intention of hanging up my industrial feather duster any time soon.
Recently, I was called to a house that a family of five had moved into. After living there for just two weeks, they’d all fallen inexplicably sick with stomach and headaches and severe coughs.
Alarmingly, the parents had also found a bag of methamphetamine stashed on the premises.
Investigating, my team of drug testers and I were flabbergasted to discover traces of methamphetamine 12 times above the level considered dangerous.
Unbeknown to the poor family, they had moved into a former drug den.
The entire house was contaminated and the readings were so strong that the health implications were potentially life-threatening.
Exposure could potentially lead to blindness, cancer, psychosis and heart attacks. Ordering them to immediately evacuate, they thanked me profusely.
‘You saved us,’ the mother said.
Moments like that make my job worthwhile.
I’m determined to continue to bear the brunt of the hard, heartbreaking and yucky yakka so others don’t have to.
