i can’t pronounce his real name, even when i asked him to say it very slowly. romanian. late 40s. schizophrenic. end stage renal disease. that’s all i know about him.

i was warned but i don’t really let those kinds of warning get into me. i reasoned that is being judgmental, and is not very nice. i regret it now, but it is too late. i should have taken the warning seriously; then i would have been more prepared. i could have gone to a quiet place, meditated, and freshened up my memory about some things. about why i am a nurse and why i love being one.

just a few minutes after our first encounter, B was already screaming at me. literally. i had to shake my head, hoping that by doing that, i have shaken my ear drums back into place. within 15 minutes it was apparent that he was sent by a higher being to test my patience. he was really good at it, but i was determined to maintain composure. and compassion.

i hate to go into the boring details of how he followed me around half naked and stood so close to me i can almost hear his heart beating. of how he screamed and threw stuff that the charge nurse was going to call security. of how many times i have to follow him around reminding him not to eat other patient’s food because if he is hungry all he has to do is tell me. of how he cried and told me he was so scared and so sick of being in the hospital. of how he asked me a lot of times why i was so mean, and bad, and rude, and why i never listen and never understand him.

the whole night was like a lousy dragging movie. i was not very pleased with my performance. and the supporting actors were very questionable. the on call doctor kept ordering 10 mg of hydralazine PO for a blood pressure of 249/131. the charge nurse apologized endlessly that i have to go through such an ordeal. all the other nurses, not really knowing what their roles are, either patronized me, or teased me about being incompetent because i can’t contain my patient.

i stood there, smelling his breath, questioning the whole situation like a moron. why is it that psych units do not accept patients with medical/surgical problems? is it because they were not specially trained to handle medical/surgical issues? why is it that medical/surgical units accept patients with psych problems? can’t we refuse them because we were not specially trained to handle psych issues? please, if somebody knows the real answer, enlighten me. i am not ashamed to admit that most of the times, i stood next to him, and a lot of other patients like him, clueless.

when his face was an inch away from my face, and he was, for the nth time asking me in a very loud voice why i can’t give him more morphine and sleeping pill, i looked him in the eye and told him for the nth time that i just gave him sleeping pill and everything (Ativan IV 1 mg, Haldol 1 mg, Dilaudid 8 mg PO, Morphine 4 mg IV, Tylenol 650 mg), there is i can give him. i said i’m sorry i can’t give him anything anymore. to which he threw a fit and went over the litany of how i was mean, bad, rude, and mean, and bad, and rude.

did i say something about maintaining composure and compassion? i forgot.

four hours into the shift, i lost it. i am not proud of that, but that is the truth. the test was given, i took it, and i failed.

“the opposite of love is not hate, apathy is.”

he called me “HEY!”, he called me all sorts of name. i take his blood pressure.
he threw water. i pick the cup up, i place a towel on the floor, i hand him the hydralazine.
he followed me around crying and screaming alternately. i give him a chair, tuck him in.

i looked straight through him. no love, no hate, just nothing. i took in everything he said and did. i took it all in, without a trace of emotion.

it was apathy, perfected.

at the end of the shift, he was sitting on the chair outside his room. i handed him another dose of hydralazine. he said thank you. i heard him, but i said nothing.

i went home. i rant about it. i slept, hoping it will make it all better.

it didn’t.

i woke up feeling scared.

you know those nurses who go around doing their job so perfectly? so competently? they have faces so serene, they almost seem angelic. they smile and call the patients “sweetie”. they act like they have it all together. only, every little thing is a facade. in reality, they don’t really care about the patient. they only care about the fact that they need the money to get by. they inwardly count the minutes till the shift ends, and they don’t give a hoot what happens after their shift. “another day, another dollar”, they say. “yeah, i’m here to serve humanity”, they sarcastically say.

i am beginning to act like them. or worse, i am already one of them.

B has nothing to do with it. the confusing policies have nothing to do with it.

it’s all about me loosing my values. and all about me loosing my vision.

i need help.

B was sitting on the floor at the corner of the nurse manager’s office. he was finishing up a leftover bread he found from the dirty utility room. one RN teased about him getting ready to complain about me to the nurse manager. i joked about giving him the paper to write his formal complaint.

it was 0300 in the morning. i was tired. i had no time to keep the game going. so what if B was in the hallway, half naked, eating leftovers after raiding the dirty utility? i needed a break and i deserved it. i headed to the breakroom, looked at him for a quarter of a second, and closed the door behind me. i had the gall sleep. i even felt refreshed after that 30 minute uninterrupted sleep.

but now, sleep evades me. the sight of B sitting on that floor, his mouth full of leftover brea….

this scene keeps playing in my head. like an old, black and white movie that never ends.

i need help.