Saturday, March 7, 2015
As luck would have it, the worst ward has the most trips. They don't send a patient, if they send the patient at all, until they've been told repeatedly. The staff member accompanying the patient carries on and on about how their rights have been violated and if they fall they are suing and staying home for two years with full pay. If you watched from a distance, you would think that the staff person was the psych patient.
On this particular morning, nobody answered when I called and called. This is not unusual. I walked over to the ward and was met with the usual loud, chaotic screaming and objects flying through the air. Several orderlies glared at me. One orderly folded her arms and yelled, "Tell me again how you are not here to spy on us." Eventually I found four nurses in a back room.
One had her head upside down, brushing her flipped hair.
One was applying blue eye shadow while peering into a mirror.
One was smearing lipstick on her already red lips.
And the other was plucking chin hair with a tweezer.
They didn't notice me standing in the doorway. I left.
Back in my office, I told the shuttle service that the patient wasn't going. I rescheduled.