Madness In The Big City
The apartment was in a shitty part of town, was small, and smelled funny. As we approached the living room where our patient was to be found my preceptor encountered "the room mate."
"I don't know what's wrong with him, he's acting funny and talking crazy," said the room mate as he sucked the life out of a cheap cigarette and blew the smoke in our general direction.
We walked in the living room and found two largish police men with annoyed smirks on their faces. As I am the student, I was pushed forward by my preceptor; I approached the patient while taking on my slowly developing compassionate yet authoritative stance and asked, "What's going on tonight?"
He nervously looked up at the cop that was nearest him and asked, "Should I tell them the whole story?"
"Sure, I think you should," said the cop as he gave me a knowing look and tried not to snicker. I immediately suspected that he was attempting to make me work harder than I should have to.
"The long version or the short version?" The patient was obviously nervous and had some sort of altered mental status. I was thinking some sort of amphetamine or other stimulant like cocaine or crack or all of the above. This was bound to be interesting.
"These are medical professionals, I would definitely go for the long version. My preceptor looked and me and rolled her eyes. It was now obvious that the cops were infinitely amused by our patient and felt it was important for us to participate in this amusement.
"Well, you see," our patient nervously continued, "when I was in high school, I was good looking, blond hair and blue eyes you know... I had all the girls, girlfriends all the time you see... I was pretty popular." I immediately began to wonder what any of this had to do with what was going on tonight. I tried to steer him into talking about what was going on right now but met with little success. "Let me tell you my story and you will see," the patient continued. I could see that he probably was in fact a pretty good looking guy at one point, but these good looks had left him long ago with hard living and excessive drug use.
"I had all the girls you see, but I always had this deep secret, this fantasy. I have always wanted to have sex with two large black... I mean, you know, African-American men. Always had this fantasy. It made me crazy with sexual feelings this fantasy you see. So, I did cocaine. Cocaine makes you crazy sexual you see, intense and crazy. I used cocaine to fulfill this fantasy, it's wrong to have sex with men like that but I always wanted it." My preceptor now had the funniest expression on her face. She is seven months pregnant, it just seemed funny that she had this quizzical expression on her face. Moms-to-be shouldn't have to listen to some coked up dude open up like this.
"So I would smoke it, shoot it, snort it, whatever. Well, I have been clean for 90 days now, but I just couldn't take it anymore, the longing, the sex. I had to do some meth tonight to get away from the feelings, but I am fine, really, I don't have any problems, I don't want any trouble." His pupils were huge and sharp. The guy couldn't hold still, he was obviously tuned up to the max, but he seemed fairly ok. Other than his burning desire to open up to total strangers, I wasn't exactly sure what his problem was.
The rest of the call went smoothly. He was actually a pretty nice guy. My preceptor let me handle the whole call, I am pretty sure she was laughing inside by the looks she kept giving. I guess it takes all kinds... but really.
"I don't know what's wrong with him, he's acting funny and talking crazy," said the room mate as he sucked the life out of a cheap cigarette and blew the smoke in our general direction.
We walked in the living room and found two largish police men with annoyed smirks on their faces. As I am the student, I was pushed forward by my preceptor; I approached the patient while taking on my slowly developing compassionate yet authoritative stance and asked, "What's going on tonight?"
He nervously looked up at the cop that was nearest him and asked, "Should I tell them the whole story?"
"Sure, I think you should," said the cop as he gave me a knowing look and tried not to snicker. I immediately suspected that he was attempting to make me work harder than I should have to.
"The long version or the short version?" The patient was obviously nervous and had some sort of altered mental status. I was thinking some sort of amphetamine or other stimulant like cocaine or crack or all of the above. This was bound to be interesting.
"These are medical professionals, I would definitely go for the long version. My preceptor looked and me and rolled her eyes. It was now obvious that the cops were infinitely amused by our patient and felt it was important for us to participate in this amusement.
"Well, you see," our patient nervously continued, "when I was in high school, I was good looking, blond hair and blue eyes you know... I had all the girls, girlfriends all the time you see... I was pretty popular." I immediately began to wonder what any of this had to do with what was going on tonight. I tried to steer him into talking about what was going on right now but met with little success. "Let me tell you my story and you will see," the patient continued. I could see that he probably was in fact a pretty good looking guy at one point, but these good looks had left him long ago with hard living and excessive drug use.
"I had all the girls you see, but I always had this deep secret, this fantasy. I have always wanted to have sex with two large black... I mean, you know, African-American men. Always had this fantasy. It made me crazy with sexual feelings this fantasy you see. So, I did cocaine. Cocaine makes you crazy sexual you see, intense and crazy. I used cocaine to fulfill this fantasy, it's wrong to have sex with men like that but I always wanted it." My preceptor now had the funniest expression on her face. She is seven months pregnant, it just seemed funny that she had this quizzical expression on her face. Moms-to-be shouldn't have to listen to some coked up dude open up like this.
"So I would smoke it, shoot it, snort it, whatever. Well, I have been clean for 90 days now, but I just couldn't take it anymore, the longing, the sex. I had to do some meth tonight to get away from the feelings, but I am fine, really, I don't have any problems, I don't want any trouble." His pupils were huge and sharp. The guy couldn't hold still, he was obviously tuned up to the max, but he seemed fairly ok. Other than his burning desire to open up to total strangers, I wasn't exactly sure what his problem was.
The rest of the call went smoothly. He was actually a pretty nice guy. My preceptor let me handle the whole call, I am pretty sure she was laughing inside by the looks she kept giving. I guess it takes all kinds... but really.
posted by Slack at 9:00 PM
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