The Perfect Storm

You know sometimes things just seem to conspire together. The "Fates" as it were. There are just some days when god puts just the right amount of stupid, with a pinch of confusion, two table spoons of arrogance, one family that has several appearances on "Springer"; neatly combined with a Nurse who knows enough amateurs psychology to be...... stupid. Not so much dangerous. Maybe dangerously stupid. Yeah. Fits (dangerously stupid). Topped off with a Dr who's sarcasm and impulse control make yours truly seem both dull and methodical. A Dr. Who would make House MD. cry. Oh. and me.





Part I. It begins (clouds on the horizon)


So on my way in this morning I call to check on said individual I am working with on placement for some of his "issues"; and I get his nurse on the phone. We'll call her "Madame Empathy" or "Miss Co-Dependant" at this point. So MS. E starts rambling on about how the patient is fine, that he is just "miss understood". "a child robbed of his youth".... "Clearly the victim in all of this"Bla bla bla, and the kicker here comes in with the, and I hate this part, the "You know what I mean?" Like somehow I'm in the loop with this lady. Were kindred. Compadres out to heal the world............... This would be where the headache just starts to form.





Arrival confirms my suspicions. The woman..... Is..... an idiot. Which is ok in certain scenario's, not so much this particular happenstance. I continue further discourse with said Nurse reveals that she has gotten along sooooooooooo famously with our patient that he has agreed to get a flu shot. Hazaaaaaaaaa. Making the world Vomit Free for you and Me....





Part II. The interview (Darkening Skies)

So I'm interviewing Cato here, and he notes that suddenly he has an unusual muscle spasm in his arm and shoulder. Not clear why or how. I take note and we continue the interview. Pain "reportedly" gets worse and moves to his neck. At this point lacking any medical knowledge I defer to the MD who confirms my suspicion that said individual is "faking". Still, such that I am unsure of even how to confront "faking" I go back in to continue, only to find that the "spasms" are worse, and now he is having trouble seeing.



Know to fully appreciate the bad acting that is taking place, imagine auditioning to be an extra on the old television show Chips, only not to receive a call back. Its like bad porn acting. Only worse somehow. A monologue on Miami Vice. You know the kind of stuff that hurts.



Part III. (Impending vitriolic storm)



So lets surmise. At this point, I am in a holding pattern because I can no longer fully asses the client because, He appears to be pretending to physically decompensate and I am waiting to see his next move (both out of fascination and curiosity). However, my job dictates I have other tasks to perform so whilst I am away the stupid come out to play. Let me clarify. As soon as I step down the hall Nurse Ratchet/Nightingale takes it upon herself to continue her assessment of this poor lost soul, and has now managed to either knowingly and or unknowingly create the possibility of this becoming a legal matter. So here I am trying to tolerate Ray Charles dinner theater, when I get up for intermission only to return to The Helen Keller Story. Fortunately I had Dr. Phils personal dog trainer (Nurse wackit) to explain the behaviors for me.



Part IV. (And then it rained)

Finishing up another matter I am summoned by a policeman to talk to the patient. In walking into the room I find what I can only call more proof of evolution and a stronger case for birth control than I wanted or expected to see. Apparently Mamma, Daddy, Jethro, Cletus, Clovis, and the entire Nascar racing team for Oxy Codone had come to support their "Boy". Touching moment really. Ok not so much. Upon my entrance into this small room I find the patient now sticking his tongue out to perhaps mimick the rarely identified Tardic Dyskenesthia with rapid onset. Its like anafalactic shock, only without the shock. No sweat, tremors........ nothing really, just faking. However, apparently the Clampet family has not had the opportunity to purview some of the finer theatrics life has to offer so the are encapsulated and enraptured with our young wounded swan. I get the "You ain't takin my boy..........." "What are gonna do about......" "You look just like a pig........" Kind of questions.



Now I do manage to settle the mob, with the mere use of a lighter and the promise of tickets to the upcoming Wrestle Mania. I am now viewed as a Deity. I can make fire and create passes to the greatest Wrestling Event Known to man. So I'm starting to piss this fire down at least to some degree when it happens.



Part V. Lightning Crashes the Party

Now, it has been said that some doctors lack tact. Low some Doctors are even narcissistic at times. And granted as one progresses further up on the food chain of intelligence, one can tend to lose some of the fruit of social skill so to speak. And Speak he did. This guy. This Doctor who presents with the dry humor akin to British Culture, and A sense of Aloof entitlement sometimes seen with those of German Descent ("not only do you suck, but sadly you are not me").



So are hero enters stage right. Family begins to question prince empathy about "their boy". And sure as I'm typing this they got all the answers with both barrels. Dr. Mengela when one family member stated,
" he can't go anywhere like this" responded with

"well he's not goin in my car." Silence. Again the natives stand in awe as if the great man has produced beads mirrors and fire water.



Another family member makes reference to the client being "crazy" to which the Doctor responds " "thats for sure". Which was when I left.



Part VI (time for shelter)

I had finally had enough. I was afraid of the questions the family would ask, and more afraid of the Doctors Responses. Much more. I did upon exiting instruct one of the deputies to not "take his eye off the Doctor" as for fear of retribution for his communicable disease (communication).



At this point I am walking down the hall shaking my head, trying to figure out if what I just saw really happened. Really?



So the Doc orders further tests for our boy and the family is instructed to leave by the police, and things are somewhat right with the world. Standing quietly next to Dr. Strangelove I mention, kind of stammeringly, " Read any good books on Empathy lately? " A poor nurse who had to witness this whole afternoon almost fell out of her chair laughing. And then when the Dr looks at me and says "what?" She pretty much did (fall out of her chair).



I began to try and recount some of his dialogue with the family. Like the parts when He explained that the client was "faking it" in such a way that I could only define as incendiary. Shortly into this dialogue I realized the futility of my point. This was a man who redefines blunt. A man who both walks loudly and carries a big stick... With a hammer on the end.



My favorite part came when I left the scene of the crime where two policemen where trying to maintain order, and he is explaining to the worried family why their son is full of shit. I walk out shaking my head and there is nurse stupid. Piningly she looks into the room and says, " l love working with him" I think referring to the Doctor. I am tired, frustrated, and worried about a Dr. who's social ineptitude is only eclipsed by his medical genius; and I simply walk drudgingly toward my car looking forward to a time when I can peacefully share this story with you the readers.