It is the ending of snacks, signaling the final call on the night. The fresh step of staff’s new bounce; a finale in the making. Far enough into the night, far enough into the work, for enough time passed where thin pinned patience somehow gets fatter, gets thicker, re-grows like skin cells to reach that final hour.
When the stale and musk air somehow clears just enough to breathe again, heavy fog seemingly whisks away allowing dry eyes to moisten and see gleaming, sparkling light. Although it is dark, a day worked, is not a day wasted, and when in service to others, there is purpose. Purpose other than bottom lines of a financial sheet.
To care is the purpose, unlike any other.
Care not like cashiers keeping crush-happy canned goods from vulnerable bread loaves. Care not like the malevolent manager fretting over late, overworked, work staff. Care not like callus teachers of their intolerable students or “the oldest professionals” of their johns, or filth collectors of full, plastic, cracked trash bins on Tuesday and/or Thursday.
Care.
Care for unbalanced individuals; unable to function in free, yet judgemental and four cornered society. There is no talking to yourself in the mirror, free and clear on the outs. The box will come, red and blue lights will come, handcuffs will come, the struggle, the violence, the lock, key, can’t go, have to stay, will come.
The paranoia is real. The delusions are real.
The six small fairies standing on the edge of the doorway refusing to let them in, is real.
So the care, has to be real.
Work laughter comes at a price. Equal to, or greater than the delusion, triggering complex and intricate paranoia, a simple giggle is like lighting the fuse for Macy’s 4th of July fireworks.
So the care has to work.
It’s the gathering; the glorious granting of group involvement which at times, is despised the most. It is inconsequential information to some who may be incompetent, but run like shoes in a Nike factory in Malaysia--consistently. It is checking in, cornering emotional well-being, hoping and searching for some semblance of balance.
We’re tracking, and we’re tracking, and we’re tracking
Did she just dig up her nose and rub it on that other patient?...damn.
There has to be responsibility and consistency
It is the voices, and vices, the asking for medications, for Maalox, or antidepressant, or anti-psychotics. It is asking for headphones, when headphones aren’t allowed at this time, or side conversations which involve the freezing of eggs, or the loud scream of “vaginal itch” that happens right as the group gets quiet. It is anything to avoid the prescribed activity.
Checking in is a responsibility
Suppose to help, suppose to educate, suppose to help self regulate, but the most common response is: groups are redundant. They don’t help, I’ve heard all that stuff before, I’ve been here 7 months, none of this is helping. What would be helpful is one on one therapy, not all the group stuff. Even though most have not given an honest effort to trying any of the suggestions, therapies, or coping skills, that are provided during group.
Emotional well being is a responsibility
But still we hold groups, and give the information. Sometime for the pacing man wearing headphones who needs a break in the music, to put a break to his voices. And other times for the new patient, first time admitted, looking scared and confused.
Safety and comfort are also responsibilities.
It’s the mid-point for break, but more like the quarter point, but break happens anyway. Where a precious 15 minutes is all that’s provided, for providers to paranoid, delusional...darlings?--yeah, that’s it, darlings. It’s the time designed to resuscitate and renovate minds’ state to stay sane...but still deal with the unstable. And we have 15 minutes to do this.
So who should be where?--ok admin, ok
It is the list for dinner, the lining up of the impatient patients, the walking outside receiving refreshing, and sometimes brisk air--depending on the season. It’s knowing your patients are (for the most part) pretty stable; there may be some pacing, or nonsensical talk (yes nonsensical is a word and a thing), or impatience. But seldom is there drooling, or yelling, or refusing to do what is expected/told.
It’s welfare; the health and happiness of a group. Basic needs are not always basic.
Back on unit some may refuse the need of nutrition. May complain and curse limited choices which may lead to confrontation. Other issues arise when patient fingers want to slide-down-throat, dislodging nutrients from inside out. And there are those who take two bites of finger food, scrunch face in disgust, then toss it out. With a 90 pound frame, the shame comes in the psychosis of what beauty and health appear to be.
It’s welfare, sometimes providing the basic needs is not always basic.
The beginning is never boring, the unknown usually isn’t. Many times it’s busy, bustling, and bouncing with movement erratic. Voices ranging from whispers to crashing conversations & the occasional yell, outburst, or naked bottom urinating on the half-assed cleaned linoleum.
It’s a psych unit, some of this is to be expected.
Clocking in, the smell is usually immediate, diaphoretic, evil and feculent. The thought of I signed up for this, and these are patients who are sick run through cerebral cortex. Pleasantries are exchanged in hurried manner; from “happy about to get off” coworker, to “burnt out in disbelief they’re still coming in” co-worker. But there are smiles nonetheless.
It’s a psych unit, some of this is to be expected.
There is report, or fill-in, or daily meeting where all the juicy details are described from the shift and/or shit-shift before. Intimate particulars are described, funny stories are shared, and some plans are hashed out. There remains a consistent ‘blind eye’ to the time that patients have spent ‘locked-down’ on the unit--sometimes it is the only way to get through the morning.
It’s a psych unit, some of this is to be expected.
It’s close to mid-morning and you awake, invigorated, the air is fresh, your mind clear; you are solid with life right now. You’re up for your coffee, or shower, or first run, or cigarette, or first kiss to the love of your life. You’re so happy to be alive. Your thoughts are yours, there is only you.
This is early morning hypnotist brokering good will to your psyche and spirit. Complete that goal today, the reflection you see is the best reflection. Today is your day; you rise, you assist, you succeed.
It’s like Obama was your alarm clock while Oprah threw back the covers yelling “you get today, and you get today, and you get today, everybody gets today!!!”
Today you got this, confidence rides in the sole of your shoe boosting your steps with bounce and vigor. Face the world with the fact that you can care for others because, I can take care of me.
I can take care of me.
I can take care of me
I can take care of me.
No comments:
Post a Comment