Re: Worst patient experience
Received a call from a patient at another LTC facility, this old guy was calling from a phone booth! Asked for me specifically and told me that he heard my facility was a place safe for older people to live. I said that yes, it was a safe place, did he want to come by and look someday. He said he needed help and he wanted to come right now.
Long story short, I ended up calling 911 for him, they took him to ER where he was DC'd to us. His previous facility had beaten the crap out of him. His face was sutured where his tooth had been sticking out. They hit him in the face so hard his tooth was sticking out of his cheek. His eyes were all but swollen shut and he was a bruised mess.
Needless to say we kept him. He never would tell me how he heard about our facility or how he got my name specifically.
Had another transfer from a different facility that was done by Adult Protective Services. Young schizophrenic IDDM pt came in and I have never seen such a dirty filty human being in all my life. Her hair was one huge knot, her tennis shoes were so dirty that when we peeled them off of her they chipped away in our hands. Bugs were crawling everywhere. Her teeth were green.
We put her in the shower and Kwelled her from head to toe, put her in clean clothes and put her to bed. The next morning there was an outline of her body on the sheets. It was dead bugs. Fleas, lice, stuff I didn't even recognize.
I itched for days each time I thought of her. Got her stable on psych meds, insulin, and others that I don't recall and she was fine to live in a supervised apartment setting.
Had a new admit from Romania. He was really not in need of a SNF but he was an emergency project of sorts by a Christian Mission in Romania. He was placed in my SNF for observation and quite frankly, assessment to see where he was at medically and socially. The plans were to appropriately place him when possible. Since he really didn't fit in the environment (he was quite young) I would take him with me on errands and such just to get him out and about.
There was a fire truck behind us on the interstate going code and I pulled over to let them pass. G, my patient, began yelling and screaming, he was crying and pushing on the dash of the car to make it go. You know, to make the car go. I couldn't figure out what the heck was wrong.
Each time a police car or fire truck would go down the street in front of the facility and he would hear the sirens he would dive in the bushes like one dives in a swimming pool.
Come to find out he had been in prison in Romania where he was forced to kneel in a cement 4' x 4' cell for 19 hours out of every 24. He was beaten and tortured on a regular basis. He had scars on his back where he was beaten with electrical wires and such. He was only about 40 years old.
He was turned into the Romanian Militia by his own father and why? Because G was a Christian and that was a bad thing at the time. If he practiced his religion he was arrested. His father was also Romanian Militia. Apparently they drive large trucks with sirens so when G would hear the sirens he would panic and try to either get away or hide.
I finally called a friend at a local fire department and told him about my patient. I explained that G didn't understand emergency vehicles in the US and could he help me out. He told me to bring him on over.
We went to the station where we were greeted by ALL the guys. The fire fighters, paramedics, Capt, all of them. They offered G cookies and coffee, the paramedics explained what they do. They took his vitals, it was cool. Even their body language was great. They knelt on the floor and let G sit in a chair, not intimidating in the least.
Finally the fire fighters had their chance. They started to take him in the back with the trucks and I started to panic. I explained that G was afraid of trucks... they kept laughing at me and told me G would be fine. Well, *I* wasn't fine. I knew he would freak out and this was going to be bad.
They finally started giving ME cookies and coffee to calm ME down. They took him in the back and I was waiting for the screaming and crying. Yet... nothing. I was getting pretty nervous, G trusted me but he wasn't fond of men in uniforms.
Pretty soon G walked out dressed as a fireman. He had the whole outfit on over his clothes. The boots, the gloves, the hat, the works. He looked at me and grinning ear to ear he said, "Look Miss, look at me!" I wanted to cry. I suppose it was one of those things where you had to be there.
Best part was when we got back he ran to his room and wrote his father a letter. He told me about it later. He explained to his father that Mr. Capt. said they were his friends and they would never let anything bad happen to him again and Mr. Capt. wouldn't let him be arrested for holding a cross.
Swear, true story.
He's living in a supervised apt setting now. That was 15 years ago however I ran into him at the grocery store about 2 years ago. He's doing GREAT.