Back to the psych ward

I'm back from a way too short six day jaunt to the states. My oh-so-typical suburban neighborhood took on a new magical shine through the eyes of my fresh off the plane husband. (It looks just like the movies!)

Today's patient of the day: In his late 40s with syphilis inspired dementia, the only way they were able to convince him to stay in the dementia ward was to tell him that he works there. He takes his work very seriously, assisting the cleaning crews, helping the nurses wheel their carts, and moving the other patients around the ward when he isn't happy with where they're sitting. Today he assigned himself the job of watching the tea pitcher and "assisting" the other patients in pouring themselves the right amount of tea. If they pour what he perceives to be the wrong amount of tea? He chastises them, takes the cup, spills it over their head, and guides them back to their seat.

The nurse seemed to feel this was benign enough not to merit intervention so we got to watch him do this about six times during our fifteen minute tour of the ward.

In other news, I managed to get hopelessly behind my training schedule for the triathlon despite my very best intentions. Luckily there are three weeks to go so I'm going to try my very best to un-jet-lag fast, make up for the lost time over the next two weeks, and then hope for the best.