Crazy back

6 11 2007

Working on a psych unit, you know I have the good stories.  And access to the good drugs.  I have a demographic of my least favorite patients and one of my favorite. 

My least favorite are the ones who suffer, or perhaps they enjoy it, from   Borderline Personality Disorder. Read about it. It is a suffer-able disease. I abhor the personality disorder, particularly this one. MOST particularly in the male species. Whiny men who are manipulative and at the same time, try to pick up on the female staff, well that is just disgusting. I may date/marry crazy men, but this information I come to realize after we go out/get married.  Not before.  A psych unit is not a good place to dip into the dating pool. 

My faves are the demented. I have a particular fondness for the elderly demented. I like dementia because these people have no control over their illness or thoughts, which are usually quite delusional.
And many of their delusions are fixed. For example, a patient who has called me Cindy every time I have worked for the past few shifts. She calls me Cindy and no one else. So I let her call me Cindy. I go with it. I give her “crazy back.” Well, I am gathering that she is NOT a big fan of Cindy’s, or mine for that matter. With this diagnosis, patients are usually fine in the morning, but as the day wears on, they begin to lose their sense of reality and may even begin to hallucinate. This happens with our little lady. She gets around in a wheelchair and is quite strong. She was going in places that she shouldn’t. I was trying to help. THAT DID NOT GO OVER WELL.

“Damn it, Cindy, I hope you drop dead right here!” She would shout at me.
I offered to get her some coffee, thinking it would help take her mind off of her, clearly, fixed delusions. It crossed my mind that giving a hot beverage to an angery, demented person may or may notbe a good idea. It was NOT a good idea. I brought her coffee and she requested more cream, to which I obliged. She then tossed her little cup o’ java right at me. My cat like reflexes and I were able to avoid any real harm, other than a slight burn on my wrist/hand. Well, now she was pissed. And still armed with half a cup of hot coffee. And she was looking for a target. Quickly thinking, and not wanting her to hurt herself or anyone else, I grabbed her shaky hand and poured the coffee on the floor. So many patients have urinated on the floor, I figured the coffee could only improve the smell. She then started on a tirade of cuss words, I am not even comfortable typing. This lady was cursing like a sailor. While wearing her Sunday best. I was in shock and awe. I have heard some people cuss, but none like that, and none quite that age.

And that is an example of how crazy back works with patients. 



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