Working the ED, obviously, means you learn a lot about Crazy. More so than being a psych nurse, actually; and I did that for five years. There's enough of it to turn you into her.
However, I digress.
I think there are shades of crazy. First there's, say, the Old Lady who's just a little batty, wears very strange clothes, makes random statements at inopportune moments, embarrasses her grandchildren, is quite sure men didn't really land on the moon and that W is an awesome president, and is, in short, Not Quite Right. But definitely lovable. She's what I call a yellow.
I really like HER, actually.
Then we'll move up to the fellow who's brought in because bystanders found him a bit frightening at the gas station, what with that rambling on and on about all the guns he has and how we just need to wipe out all the hippy/commie/pinko/liberal/fags. He knows where he is and where he's at, what day it is, and he's usually pleasant enough if you're nice to him. You really don't want to get on his bad side, though, and for heaven's sake don't tell him about that C.O.N. (the commitment paper) the doctor's signed sending him to the local mental health facility until the police are standing outside the door. Let's call him anorange.
Finally we have The Real Deal- the one six police officers literally drag in handcuffed kicking, screaming, cursing, and foaming at the mouth. He's just killed his dog and now he wants you. (This actually happened last week) They toss him in the seclusion room and lock the door; where he proceeds to bang on it, shriek the filthiest words imaginable at the top of his lungs while the patients in nearby rooms are hiding under their beds in horror and the security guards are flipping a coin to see Who's Gonna Open the Door and put him in those leather restraints. This happy camper is what I think of as a red.
ER nursing is by far the most dangerous of all nursing occupations; luckily, however, I am fearless. Except when it comes to dentists. And tunnels. And oversized anythings. (such as a twenty foot giant cow in front of a steakhouse) I guess my worst nightmare would be my car being blocked inside a tunnel by an oversized statue of a dentist with a drill in his hand. Now THAT'S scary.
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3 comments:
Hahaha, I love how the crazies are color coded. There's not a crackhead blue or something? What color are people who demand to only be seen in non-square rooms? And the links are awesome! :)
I love your blog, it's just like watching a particularly amusing episode of Scrubs.
Yay for crazies! They make for the best stories.
crazies are definitely fun, except for the Reds. They get on your nerves and they kind of worry you, because there's small children in the ER, and you don't want them frightening them or leaping on them. Our new ER we're building will have a whole separate locked down Crazy Section, which Ii think is very good; far away from the normal and semi-normal people who mightn't find them as entertaining as we do.
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