I always like when Michelle gives report. Despite being a regular in the unit, and a long-time employee of County (about twelve years), she still seems to enjoy the random silly things that happen here, the drama that goes on. There is a certain enthusiasm in her report at shift change. A sense that she is eager for people to crowd around so she can launch into some story about a resident. “Listen here,” she seems to want to say.
Today when she reaches Charles’ name on the report sheet she goes into how he had a bath today during the morning shift. “So my boy’s all fresh and clean,” she says. And that while he was in the whirlpool, staff took his wheelchair into the hall and inspected it. Normally it’s hard to inspect any of Charles’ belongings. We have to wait until he’s distracted by an activity, or in a bath, or asleep, or hospitalized. Otherwise the yelling and refusals begin, along with numerous fuck yous.
But it is necessary to do inspections. Charles, being a habitual thief, is always pocketing items. Sometimes it’s personal, sometimes not; sometimes he steals from a resident or staff — like the time he took Marty’s Timex watch, or my plastic water bottle — and sometimes it’s mundane, like when he keeps the metal fork from his tray after dinner.
Michelle goes on to describe what staff found in his wheelchair this time. “Old snacks and wrappers in there,” she says, “ — you know, under the cushion, in between the seat and the pad. A tablecloth. A couple of board games.”
Lang, the nurse on shift this evening, stops writing and looks up, a confused smile on his face. “Board games?”
“Yep.”
He just laughs. He shakes his head and goes back to writing.
“Don’t know how he managed that. Must’ve been uncomfortable sitting on those,” says Michelle.
