Do you know what is utterly fascinating?
Getting to know people who work in a mental hospital.
FAH-scinating.
and hilarious.
Some people are normal. You know, they have a spouse, sense of humor, connection to reality etc... And then there are some of my former co-workers. Here are a few:
There was the psychiatrist who would get so worked up that she threw charts at the offending clinician. Like two-inch plastic-bound paper charts.
Of course, if you've ever attempted to throw tissues, or scarves, then you have experienced the same level of aerodynamics as these charts. They rarely made a direct hit with their intended target. Instead, they usually ended up flapping in the air and twirling a few times before crashing to the floor in a lavish ploof! of psycho-social assessments and diagnostic axes.
But just the same. she scared the CA-rap out of us. And then we got paperless charts. I wonder if she threw computers.
There was a nurse I worked with who claimed to have taken out her own tonsils. I thought this absurd declaration carried as much validity as her story of putting a pitch-fork completely through her right foot. Then I met her husband one day. I learned that not only were both stories absolutely true, but I also learned that she insisted on sleeping with a fully-loaded Beretta under her pillow at night. Apparently she fears intruders almost as much as she fears doctors.
Lastly there was the spunky clinician who like to mow her yard at night. Both because it was cooler and she worked second shift and didn't want to get sweaty before coming into work. We worked late. Sometimes when all hell broke loose we wouldn't get out until an hour past our scheduled shift change. That put her back at her center-hall colonial at around 1:30a.m. Her biggest complaint was that her neighbors often called the cops on her. She said it wasn't so much the noise level in the early morning but the lights that bothered them. Light?! What lights? you ask...the headlights of her car she had to blaze to see where she was mowing. of course.
Getting to know people who work in a mental hospital.
FAH-scinating.
and hilarious.
Some people are normal. You know, they have a spouse, sense of humor, connection to reality etc... And then there are some of my former co-workers. Here are a few:
There was the psychiatrist who would get so worked up that she threw charts at the offending clinician. Like two-inch plastic-bound paper charts.
Of course, if you've ever attempted to throw tissues, or scarves, then you have experienced the same level of aerodynamics as these charts. They rarely made a direct hit with their intended target. Instead, they usually ended up flapping in the air and twirling a few times before crashing to the floor in a lavish ploof! of psycho-social assessments and diagnostic axes.
But just the same. she scared the CA-rap out of us. And then we got paperless charts. I wonder if she threw computers.
There was a nurse I worked with who claimed to have taken out her own tonsils. I thought this absurd declaration carried as much validity as her story of putting a pitch-fork completely through her right foot. Then I met her husband one day. I learned that not only were both stories absolutely true, but I also learned that she insisted on sleeping with a fully-loaded Beretta under her pillow at night. Apparently she fears intruders almost as much as she fears doctors.
Lastly there was the spunky clinician who like to mow her yard at night. Both because it was cooler and she worked second shift and didn't want to get sweaty before coming into work. We worked late. Sometimes when all hell broke loose we wouldn't get out until an hour past our scheduled shift change. That put her back at her center-hall colonial at around 1:30a.m. Her biggest complaint was that her neighbors often called the cops on her. She said it wasn't so much the noise level in the early morning but the lights that bothered them. Light?! What lights? you ask...the headlights of her car she had to blaze to see where she was mowing. of course.
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