Ketchup

Last published on August 26th, 2009. Sad story... sorry ya'll.

Frances, my homophobic racist paranoid schizophrenic left. One Friday night she decided to call 911 and tell the operator she was raped. Two things get automatic hospital discharges: rape and suicide. Well, violence to others as well, of course; that one is just more difficult to sort out. Who saw this, did she hear that, why is there blood on her face... oh yeah, that reminds me of another fun story from LPC. Let's go back to the first though.

If you were to ask Frances, she gets raped every day, multiple times a day, by multiple men (and sometimes woman) in every hole imaginable. She also gets beaten and murdered. She had a broken leg once... walking just fine, of course. But this time she called the police and told them she was raped by another resident (untrue... you should see who she accused). She went to the hospital and insisted on going back to AC. The same place where she was beaten 16 times in one day, according to her when she was admitted to LPC last May. She'll be back.


2nd story...

1. Someone pulled the fire alarm. Make everyone go into whatever hallway the "fire" is not in, start checking off names.

2. Door alarm goes off. HUHA took the opportunity provided by the distraction of the fire alarm to run out the door. Some people go chasing after him... this day was too cold, HU is out of shape, and I was wearing a T-shirt.

3. Therefore, I was around to see VIIN coming running out from the fire doors with blood on her face. Sweet, kind SASA had also utilized the same opportunity as HUHA to bite poor VI and try to scratch out her eyeballs.

4. HUHA was given a shot, allowed to talk someone's ear off for half an hour, and given money to get a snack from the vending machines (he really is quite adorable). SASA was again sweet, cheerful, and now creepingly weird (sent to the hospital, of coure, and not back ever!). VIIN was a frightened little mess. I was appointed the one to calm her down, and now she sometimes talks to me and calls me "Frankie".


Last Thursday, new kid who has the last name of a dictator cupped my boob and asked me if they were real. I gave him a LOOK, told him both physical contact and language was inappropriate, and continued on with his orientation. Same kid who tried to blow up his last nursing home by stuffing socks down the toilet. Apparently they're going to put him on "Lupron to suppress his sexual desires." Oh yes, he was caught masterbating in the ER as well.

I wish this job paid more... I quite like it. As it is, I'll be on my merry way some point in the next year. Ah well.

Brothers and Nurses

Somehow by wandering around the internet aimlessly, I managed to end up here. Oh yes. Jessica, you sent me an invite on facebook that I accidently deleted. Some blog or other, I believe. Send it again please?

Otherwise, I'm trying to think of a story. Well, here's a quote for today: I want a baby octopus. Alright guys, check out that link right there, it's adorable. Not my pic, of course. Anyways, that was what HUHA said outside the office door. Not sure who he was talking to, if anyone.

Something made me sad/mad today. One of my fav residents just came back from the hospital... I've mentioned her before I think: FRST. She told me that she wasn't going to be my dyke. I said awesome. Either way, she was apparently in a good mood when she got back, declaring that she hadn't thought about anyone but me. My first question was (I wasn't present, but when someone related the story to me)... "good or bad thoughts?" But then she starts freaking out. "Have you seen my brother? He was the paramedic who brought me in. She knifed him outside." No, I haven't. He's not here right now. No one knifed anyone. No one's hurt.

Comes back a bit later with a similar story. "My brother's in the building. They saw him, he was broken and bleeding." Different tactic: who saw him? "A bunch of guys." What'd the look like? "I don't know." Hon, your brothers not here. He's at home, and he's fine. "Let me go ask HUHA [octopus dude!]... Hey, have you seen my brother?" "What's he look like?" "He's got brown hair and a big schnoz and a split down his face and half his leg is cut off." "I don't think so... I don't even know his name." Kinda funny, though morbid.

Some where in here I learn that she has a room to herself. This may be the root of some of the anxiety. Either way, I'm getting worried, but what to do? These conversations are in passing, she wanders off afterwards. Then she shows up at the counselor office door, asking for her $5 since she's going to the hospital. I can't believe it. Let's go talk to the nurse. The nurse is a bitch, and says, no she's not going to the hospital! Nurse pretty much says that she just said that to get the resident off her back. Great.

FRST is freaking out. She steals the phone from someone (each floor as a phone for use only by the residents) and calls her sister. Now the symptoms have become physical... hands shaking, can't swallow, very cold... she gives the phone to me. I explain the brother thing, ask her sister for some advice, she suggests meds if it gets real bad. FRST demands the phone back, says something then practically hangs up on her sister.

Two things: 1. Sister must trust us a lot to not run up here as soon as she hears this. Or maybe she's just used to it. 2. Guess who deals with the consequences of lying to a resident? Counselors. Me. THE RESIDENT. AAARRRGGGG!!!! And it's not just that nurse. How can you become so callous? Sorry, this isn't out of the blue... these nurses do shit like this all the time. It's like they don't want to work, they just don't care. The mentally ill still are people, you know. They're not dumb, they're just wired so differently it doesn't make sense to us. At least, that's my belief.

Fuck, it's almost two am and I have school at 9. *sigh*

Oops

Oh, and I had said I was gonna write about a new admit... of which there were two, and no I don't remember which one I was talking about. But they've both been there three months already, and I've forgotten all the good initial stories. They've both settled in quite well, and the one older lady is a riot. Paranoid, but hilarious... and she even laughs at her own delusions sometimes. That's my story.