This past semester I had my psych rotation. Before the first day on the ward, my clinical instructor, who appeared as though she was from the psych ward herself. She came to the first clinical with no bra on and she is not a small woman, if you know what I mean. At 7:30am in the morning I was in the midst of this woman's boobs as an unexpected hug took place. Really 7:30 in the morning smashed in boobs which aren't my own, is not how I like to start my day off...
In the e-mail she explained that it was okay if we were scared of being on a lock-down unit. The fact that I would be on a locked unit didn't phase me, I was working on my psych masters before I transitioned into Nursing...
However, I think my attitude changed when I got onto the unit and learned that there were convicted rapists and that we were not allowed to be in a room alone with any of the patients. Rapists are not my favorite, I tend to want to chop off their balls. It didn't help that every time we walked down the halls we would get cat calls the whole way. My nickname on the ward was "sunshine", yeah they really went out on a limb for that one...
The first day on the ward, we walked in and their was a tall guy, who looked like he was in his mid 30's and was singing, dancing and as us ladies walked by made a comment about "how he wanted to tap that ass". He definitely knew how to welcome the ladies onto the floor. In that moment, I prayed that I didn't get that guy...
It completely sucks when your prayers don't get answered or maybe God didn't hear the part where I said "didn't want THAT guy"...as my instructor handed me the chart my thought was instantly "fuck me"
My patient was diagnosed with being Bipolar and had grandiose delusions (aka: he thought he was God). Now on the flip side I really should have had fun with this patient, but I was really trying to be earnest and a good psych nurse. I mean honestly, how many times do you get to meet god in person? Not that often. I am pissed that I didn't ask him what my future held, what's the lottery ticket number, if I should go back to CA or stay in NYC, and how many more damn frogs am I going to have to kiss because it's getting rather old.
My first session with him went okay. We talked about his past, where he grew-up, his girlfriend and then we went into what he did for fun. This is when the serenading got started. He LOVED Pearl Jam, REM and a chick that I had never heard before but he was determined to make me like her. Instead of asking me if I knew the songs he would start belting them out. Which to be honest was pretty entertaining, I'm not going to lie.
Right before our conversation was over he wanted me to "look into his eyes" and ask him what his favorite things in life were. If you didn't know already looking into peoples eyes are the windows to people's souls (if anyone did not know this fact...he would loooove to explain it to you in greater length).
Now this is what it looked like: I would stare into his eyes and ask him "what is your favorite band?". He would close his eyes, take three deep breaths, hum and then spit out the answer. Now if I looked perplexed by his answer (I found out the hard way), he would explain his reasoning which took a mere 15-20 minutes. I didn't look perplexed again.
As we left, he asked me to come over and this is where it got awkward. First, I don't like unwanted attention and second I don't like unwanted attention especially in front of my whole cohort. He started singing REM to me and then professed to me that he loved me.
I think the worst part about it the situation is that when I told my girlfriends about my experience they replied "hey at least someone loves you."
awesome...simply awesome.
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