Sunday, April 25, 2010

HUMOR IN MY LIFE--Part 11--Working with the Mentally-ill

Working with the mentally-ill has its moments! It can be filled with stress and anxiety. It also has its light side. A woman I'll call Tweetie Pie was a case in point.

Tweetie Pie kept a spanking clean apartment, but she had one unusual habit. She drank soda by by the two liter bottle.

“What's unusual about that?” you may ask.

What was unusual was how she dealt with the aftermath of her guzzling. She filled those bottles with her own urine and she unashamedly kept dozens upon dozens of those urine-filled bottles adorning her bedroom. It was if she was an interior decorating accessorizing her bedroom with accent color. Let's just say that dark brown yellow wasn't exactly her color. Nor was it mine!

I would usually see Tweetie Pie twice a month. As was the case with many of my clients who didn't cooperate with treatment, I would never know what to expect. One day, I was in for a real surprise!

I rang the doorbell and I waited. Not a moment later, this large woman who did not resemble a bird burst out of her upstairs apartment door. Then she came dashing down the stairs screaming, “I'm going to kill you!”

Needless to say, I wasn't about to wait around to see what would happen. I made a dash for my car as she followed me in quick pursuit. I managed to give the car the gas just as she rushed toward me in a rampage. Later that same day, she was admitted to the hospital where she remained for a long period of time.

Tweetie Pie also developed some physical health problems. While they weren't amusing, I have an interesting tale to share about the time she was diagnosed with one of them. It was proceeded by another day involving a dash toward me. Foaming at the mouth, she screamed, “I have rabies!”

After another trip to the loony bin, she was later transferred to a regular hospital. There, she was diagnosed with diabetes.

It's been years since I left the field of social work and I frequently think about my former clients. God only knows what has become of my Tweetie Pie. No matter what, I'm sure she is still happy. In spite of her “mad” moments, she was always as chipper as a bird. I think that I've well-named her with her pen name. She was indeed a tweetie-pie. She was also a strange bird!

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