SeaCat
Hey, my Halo is smoking
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2003
- Posts
- 15,378
A rather nice letter arrived in work today. It was addressed to the Unit Supervisor and came from a rehab center in Miami. It was written by one of the Psychs there and dealt with a patient of mine.
A while back I had a patient. A younger person who was both homeless and an alchoholic. She came in on deaths doorstep. She weighed next to nothing and couldn't even walk. She ahd the D.T.'s and refused to eat. She tried to fight me, physicaly. On her third day there she broke down in tears. She asked me what I wanted with her. I answered her honestly. Brutally but honestly. I told her I wanted her to make up her mind, to decide if she wanted to live or if she wanted to die. I also told her I wasn't going to feel sorry for her if she chose to die, and neither would anyone else. I told her she was destroying herself and had no-one but herself to blame. She went off on me and I walked out of the room.
The next day she asked for me by name and when I came into her room she asked me what she needed to do to get better. I ended up talking with her for quite a while over the course of the day. She started trying. She forced herself to eat even though it made her sick. She laid off the drugs, not asking for them. She started talking with the on floor Social Worker.
Oh she had her bad days and yet she started to fight. She turned that anger she had used against me inwards. Not at herself but at her disease. She gained a couple of pounds over the next couple of weeks and gained some of her strength back.
She left our hospital and went into rehab. She had gone there under a court order once before, and left as soon as she could. This time she went willingly and stayed for the entire course.
The letter told my supervisor how she had gone through her rehab and after she left found herself a job. She still goes to meetings at the center, and has even started volunteering there. Helping others. Her counselor goes on to say that this young lady has told him repeatedly that the reason she turned her life around wasn't because she almost died, but because I had been there for her.
When my boss showed me this I felt good. Damned good. You see I had been given a verbal warning about my actions with this young lady. I had been told that I was being unproffesional because I had given her back rubs when her Tremors were so bad he back had siezed up. I was being unprofessional when I egged her on, when I got her pissed off and then told her where to direct that anger. I was counseled when they found out she called me in the middle of the night one time because she was having nightmares.
This letter was nice because I had taken a chance. I saw that she was at the end of her rope, she wanted to change but didn't think she had it in her. She didn't think she had the strength to change her life. On that first day when she cussed me out and tried to throw a bowl filled with what they call Grits here I knew she had the strength, she just had to find it and channel it. I did what I knew had to be done, because it had been done to me a long time ago. It worked.
I feel good.
Cat
A while back I had a patient. A younger person who was both homeless and an alchoholic. She came in on deaths doorstep. She weighed next to nothing and couldn't even walk. She ahd the D.T.'s and refused to eat. She tried to fight me, physicaly. On her third day there she broke down in tears. She asked me what I wanted with her. I answered her honestly. Brutally but honestly. I told her I wanted her to make up her mind, to decide if she wanted to live or if she wanted to die. I also told her I wasn't going to feel sorry for her if she chose to die, and neither would anyone else. I told her she was destroying herself and had no-one but herself to blame. She went off on me and I walked out of the room.
The next day she asked for me by name and when I came into her room she asked me what she needed to do to get better. I ended up talking with her for quite a while over the course of the day. She started trying. She forced herself to eat even though it made her sick. She laid off the drugs, not asking for them. She started talking with the on floor Social Worker.
Oh she had her bad days and yet she started to fight. She turned that anger she had used against me inwards. Not at herself but at her disease. She gained a couple of pounds over the next couple of weeks and gained some of her strength back.
She left our hospital and went into rehab. She had gone there under a court order once before, and left as soon as she could. This time she went willingly and stayed for the entire course.
The letter told my supervisor how she had gone through her rehab and after she left found herself a job. She still goes to meetings at the center, and has even started volunteering there. Helping others. Her counselor goes on to say that this young lady has told him repeatedly that the reason she turned her life around wasn't because she almost died, but because I had been there for her.
When my boss showed me this I felt good. Damned good. You see I had been given a verbal warning about my actions with this young lady. I had been told that I was being unproffesional because I had given her back rubs when her Tremors were so bad he back had siezed up. I was being unprofessional when I egged her on, when I got her pissed off and then told her where to direct that anger. I was counseled when they found out she called me in the middle of the night one time because she was having nightmares.
This letter was nice because I had taken a chance. I saw that she was at the end of her rope, she wanted to change but didn't think she had it in her. She didn't think she had the strength to change her life. On that first day when she cussed me out and tried to throw a bowl filled with what they call Grits here I knew she had the strength, she just had to find it and channel it. I did what I knew had to be done, because it had been done to me a long time ago. It worked.
I feel good.
Cat
