The Jawbone of an Ass

My jaw has been bothering me quite a bit lately. It’s been a little over eight months since I was assaulted, resulting in the nondisplaced mandibular fracture that certainly doesn’t feel all that nondisplaced to me.

My dentist at Surprise Smiles 😆 told me it could take up to a year for my jaw muscles to realign to the new profile of my bite. This wasn’t what I wanted to hear back then, but if it will truly take that long, the good news is I have a mere four months to go.

I have sustained several physical injuries during my career as a psychiatric nurse. I also sustained several more injuries during my career as a drunken moron. These two careers overlapped each other for at least ten years, so it’s hard for me to separate them sometimes. The net result is pain, and for anyone that lives with daily chronic pain, it really doesn’t matter where or how it originated. You simply have to learn to live with it.

I was physically assaulted on three separate occasions during my nursing career. That averages out to one assault roughly every ten years. Somewhat oddly, I was struck in the face each time.

The first time, I never saw the punch coming. I was working at the MVAMC. My back was turned to the guy that hit me. Merrill came up behind me and suckerpunched the right side of my face because he wanted to go smoke, but I had taken away his smoking privileges because he was being an asshole.

It took me a moment to figure out what the hell got happened, and then it hit me, so to speak. That sonuvabitch punched me! My first response was to immediately punch him back. Yeah, guy logic, if there is such a thing.

My co-workers intervened. Merrill was quickly whisked into a seclusion room. I was sent to Employee Health be evaluated. I sustained no serious injury, but the doctor gave me the rest of the day off, just because.

The second assault occurred at Aurora. It was my second year there. I remember it as The Year of the Borderlines. My unit was generally designated as the  Marginally Functional Psychotic Unit, but that year we got hit with a tsunami of patients with Borderline Personality Disorder.

One Borderline can be enough to stand your unit on its head. A gaggle of Borderlines (?) A gossip of Borderlines…  I like that! A lots of Borderlines gathered together is rarely a good thing, particularly if you’re a psych nurse. And especially if the gossip is gaggling on your unit.

It takes an awesome skill set to effectively manage that.

The patient in question was Melissa, maybe. I used to remember everything about every one of my patients, but they eventually melded into one multi-headed mutant patient. Mel was having a difficult day obtaining the level of attention she desired, so she decided to go full on Drama Llama and had a VPM–Very Public Meltdown. Mel was good for usually one of these a day. She would set off a chain reaction with the rest of her Borderline buddies, and chaos would ensue.

On this particular day, I didn’t respond the way she wanted me to (I didn’t call the doctor to get injectable meds), so she stormed off to her room to slam the door and scream.

Karen Rae Goff, social worker extraordinaire, happened to be on the unit at the time. Karen also happened to be Melissa’s social worker, so we went to her room to see what Mel had planned for her next move.

“Get out of here!” Mel screamed at us as I opened the door.

“I need to know that you’re going to be safe.” I said, from the doorway.

“Leave me alone, or I’ll kick your fucking ass!” she screamed. And then I did something stupid:

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Melissa launched herself at me and started swinging. I blocked her first punch or two, but then she caught me with a left jab that knocked my glasses askew on my face.

That stirred something inside Karen, and she let loose on Melissa with her Mom Voice, and Mel was so stunned she stopped acting like a temper tantrum toddler.

“I can’t fucking believe you did that.” I said, and calmly readjusted my glasses.

“You asked for it.” Melissa replied.

“Are you going to press charges?” Karen asked me. It’s a felony to physically assault a healthcare worker in Arizona. Melissa let a momentary look of panic escape, and that’s when I fell in love with Karen. We never had another problem with Melissa. She was a little angel for the remainder of her stay.

And that brings us to Assault #3, which also happened at Aurora.

That day started out like any other day. Dr Sbiliris, the psychiatrist assigned to the Canyon Unit, came onto the unit to meet with his patients. One of them, a young kid named Desean asked to be discharged. Dr Sbiliris kind of laughed and said, “No, probably Friday. Maybe Wednesday.”

Desean seemed to accept that, even if it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear.

And then something happened that should’ve sent my Spidey senses tingling. A patient on the Canyon Unit started loudly acting out, and when the staff from other units rushed over to aid and assist, Desean bolted out the unit doors and made a break for freedom.

We took care of the Yelling Guy. Desean fell short in his sprint to escape. He returned to the unit with an escort, and went to his room. And there was peace in the Canyon once more. Until 2:00 PM.

That’s when Desean entered the dayroom and started yelling and throwing stuff.

My boss of bosses, Lori Milus, must’ve been having a rare quiet day because she had come down to chat. I went into the day room. One of the BHT’s was trying to verbally redirect Desean, and I provided back up. But Desean wasn’t having any of that shit.

“Come on, man.” I said. “You know how this works. Sbiliris says that to everyone. He wants to see how you’ll respond. You know acting like this isn’t going to get you out of here. If anything, it’ll extend your stay, and you clearly don’t want that. Use your head, think about this!”

Desean and I were standing in the doorway of the dayroom. The nursing station and the unit doors were behind me. The hallway leading to the patient rooms was behind Desean.

He didn’t say anything, as if he were contemplating the veracity of my words. He appeared to me to start turning to his right, and I thought he would keep on going and go back to his room. I also started turning to my right, thinking my work was done. But Desean was merely loading up. He stopped turning to his right and reversed direction. His right fist came flying at me at about the speed of light, catching me squarely on the jaw.

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I was launched into space, much like that. I landed by the unit doors, seven or eight feet away. Desean may have howled in triumph. He ripped off his shirt, daring me to get up and fight him.

Like that was going to happen.

I didn’t lose consciousness. I even kept my head elevated so it wouldn’t hit the floor. But I don’t think I could’ve gotten off the floor just then if my life had depended on it.

One of the darling nurses I worked with, Lindsey Stirling, picked up my glasses and protectively leaned over me as I lay on the floor, trying to out figure out what I should do next. Another nurse, Brea Bils, one of my darlingpreshadorbs work daughters, tried to check my blood pressure. She later told me she no idea what she was doing. She thought I had gotten dead.

I knew I didn’t got dead, so I think I even said that.

“I’m not dead. I didn’t lose consciousness. My jaw…is really sore, but other than that, I’m okay.”

A group of BHT’s had escorted Desean into one of the Overflow rooms. Aurora was the only psychiatric facility I worked at that didn’t allow the use of seclusion and/or restraints to manage a behavioral crisis. Desean got several injections. And he was kept under close observation by several large men.

Once Desean was medicated and no longer actively assaultive, my boss asked me if I wanted to press charges. I did.

If Desean had been psychotic and responding to internal stimuli, that might’ve changed my decision. But Desean wasn’t psychotic. He didn’t get what he wanted, and he decided to act like a thug. That definitely was a factor in determining my decision.

The police took my statement. They took Desean into custody. Thankfully, Frankie Baby wasn’t there, or the police would’ve had to arrest him for murder. And there was peace in the Canyon once more.

I didn’t find out my jaw was broken until the following day when I had a CT scan. Because my fracture was nondisplaced, there wasn’t much of a treatment. I was on a soft diet for six to eight weeks; nothing but soups, smoothies and ice cream.

I bought the world’s most expensive smoothie. I lost ten pounds. I gained all of them back once I could eat real food again. And now I’m learning to live with my new occlusion pattern. It’s a process. Some days are better than others. Today, it hasn’t been too bad. Yesterday fucking sucked.

And as Forrest Gump said, That’s all I have to say about that.

Get out and vote.

The Muppet Woman

Sue Severson gave Ailene her nickname. Ailene was one of our patients at the Minneapolis VAMC. I had been working there a little over a year, I think. I had been an RN for about three years or so. Sue was one of the nurses I worked with. She was younger than me, taller, attractive, long blonde hair. She had been at the VA longer than I had, so she was teaching me how to be a psych nurse.

“Doesn’t she look like a muppet? I mean, it looks like someone has their hand inside her head, making her jaw move, doesn’t it?” Sue said. She was getting kind of obsessed with the whole muppet theory thing.

Well, yeah, I suppose. I thought. Ailene did kind of look like a muppet. She was an older African American woman that stood about four and a half feet tall. I think she was around fifty years old when I first met her, but she looked to be closer to seventy. Her eyes were overly wide, so she had the appearance that her eyeballs were trying to jump out of their sockets. And she had one of the weirdest voices of any of my patients ever, like Elmo on helium, maybe. Ailene became the Muppet Woman that night.

The Muppet Woman was a relatively benign crazy woman most of the time. Sometimes she’d get all worked up about something, but she was easily redirected, and rarely a problem. She had never been violent or assaultive before, and therefore not a serious problem.

I was working the night shift. It had a been an uneventful night. Sue and I had been talking at the nursing station. There was one more nurse working the unit with us, a hulking taciturn woman who rarely spoke to anyone.

Sue had been telling me she had to pee for the last hour. I got up to do rounds on the unit, and had just checked on Ailene. She was in bed and appeared to be asleep. I filled in the blanks on the Rounds sheet. I was standing in the hallway facing Ailene’s room, which was about halfway down the hallway from the nursing station, when I heard the sound of a Helium Elmo being possessed by the devil. I looked up to see the Muppet Woman charging me like a fullback headed for the end zone, screaming as she ran.

I dropped the clipboard I was holding to the floor, and caught one of the Muppet Woman’s arms before she hit me. Her free hand grabbed my shirt and pulled. Hard.

Pop pop pop pop pop went the buttons, flying off my shirt and bouncing off down the hallway.

“Hey!” the other nurse we were working with said. I remember being more surprised by that nurse speaking than I was by being charged by a possessed muppet.

“Help! We need help over here!” the nurse called out toward the nursing station, then proceeded to envelope the Muppet Woman in the steam shovel maneuver. She essentially scooped the Muppet Woman into her arms and carried her down the hallway.

The only thing not perfect about her intervention was the Muppet Woman was still firmly gripping my shirt, and I was being forcefully pulled down the hallway by a possessed muppet in the arms of a big nurse moving like a bulldozer.

“We need help over here!” I said loudly, looking back over my shoulder. I saw Sue Severson fly around the corner, then fall to floor laughing when she saw me being dragged down the hall by the Muppet Woman and the Bulldozer Nurse.

Bulldozer carried the Muppet Woman, and dragged me, into a seclusion room, where we waited for a moment until back up arrived in the form of Sue, who was laughing so hard she almost peed her pants.

Bulldozer saw help arrive, and dropped her load. The Muppet Woman fell to the mattress on the bedframe, and because she still had a death grip on the front of my shirt, I fell on top of her. Sue gave out a little scream because this time she did pee her pants, a little, but that didn’t stop her from laughing.

I don’t know who Bulldozer was more irritated with by this time, the Muppet Woman, me or Sue.

“Oh! That’s enough of this nonsense!” Bulldozer snapped, and pulled me off of the Muppet Woman, who apparently had no intention of ever letting go of my shirt. And it was right about then I started wondering what I had done that had enraged the Muppet Woman in the first place. “I said enough!” Bulldozer snapped at the Muppet Woman. “Let go of him!!” she ordered, and grabbed the Muppet Woman’s arm.

“Get your fat hands off me, you gray haired old whore!” demon-possessed Helium Elmo Muppet Woman shrieked back at the Bulldozer nurse. Her crazy eyes were popping in and out of her head simultaneously.

“My hair isn’t gray,” Bulldozer replied meekly.

Sue let out a higher pitched scream, because she peed her pants again. This time, a lot.

I never did find out what I did to the Muppet Woman that made her react the way she did that night. She died not long after getting out of the hospital.

Bulldozer retired and moved to Arkansas a couple years after that incident. I loved to tell that story to my co-workers. Bulldozer never thought it was as funny as I did. And she never forgave Sue for acting so unprofessionally, and for pissing all over the floor.

Sue Severson transferred to the Outpatient Department. She was only nurse I ever worked with that laughed herself incontinent while responding to a behavioral management situation. She would eventually marry my boss and make at least one baby with him before I left the VA. She forgave herself for pissing all over the floor. So did I.

“It’s not like the Muppet Woman was actually hurting you, and you should’ve seen how funny you three looked…”

All true. I was probably in more danger when I was being dragged down the hall by Bulldozer.

But I learned some important things that night. Never, ever, let your guard down at work. Always know your crew. And take bathroom breaks. You just never know…