we house 12 of our more demented patients on the 3rd floor. they have their own lounge and kitchen up there so they’re pretty self contained. still, they need socialising with more than just each other so we bring them downstairs for bus trips, birthday teas, concerts and that old stalwart – the religious service. the staff on level 3 sometimes go to a lot of trouble to dress them up because left to our own devices, those of us who have lost our marbles tend to think that spotted pyjamas and striped anoraks make fashionable daywear.
yesterday as they filed docilely past my desk on their way to benediction, Miz Barbara, resplendent in a green dress with a string of red beads slipped me a crumpled piece of paper. aha! perhaps she thinks she’s seen a sympathetic gleam in my eye. perhaps she’s worked out that I’m the chatelaine around here and if she wants a hand with her escape plans then nurse myra is the way to go.
the note said: “unfortunately, today I am a salad”
Some day, some how, I will find a way to use that line!