Nurse
#1 : “Calm down! It’s just a backpack!”
Patient
#3 : “THAT BACKPACK HAD MY WALLET IN IT! WITH MY LICENSE AND SOCIAL SECURITY CARD! YOU LET HER STEAL MY IDENTITY!”
Nurse
#1 : “We can replace those things!”
Patient
#3 : “IT HAD THE ONLY PICTURE I HAVE OF ME WITH MY FATHER! YOU CAN’T REPLACE THAT! HE DIED AFTER I WAS BORN!”
Me: “Get the f****** police already, you dips***!”
(I didn’t know what else to do. The police do show up, though I have no idea how this story ends or if anything was done about [Nurse
#1 ]. On day four — my release day — I’m sitting in the common area playing cards, waiting for my girlfriend to show up and drive me home. Needing a fourth for Hearts, one of the nurses agrees to join us.)
Nurse
#2 : “[My Name], you sure know how to pick ’em. Of all the weeks you could’ve shown up!”
Me: “I’m amazed, too.”
Nurse
#2 : “Yeah, but this ain’t even the worst of it. One patient last year always ran his mouth. ‘I’m in for bestiality!’ ‘I’m a member of the local KKK and they think this’ll cure me!’ and on and on. All cause he didn’t want to admit he tried to kill himself after his girlfriend broke up with him.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Nurse
#2 : “Yeah, he just kept making excuses to justify the cuts on his arms.”
Me: “You can’t tell us that! His medical records are still privileged!”
(I’ve never been back. I haven’t looked it up yet, because I’m truly frightened that it might still be open.)