Murder, Marilyn Monroe and the Secret Dentures

Tait, MSN, RN

Ms. Brit

Ms. Brit was a 70-something GI patient who looked 45. She spoke with a melodious British accent and had a smile that melted even the sternest of doctors. SCD's a pumping and Dilaudid PCA a beeping her and I had the most interesting of nights.

Marilyn Monroe and the TV Pope

Ms. Brit had a most troublesome foley catheter, so about every two hours I would go in, plunk down on the floor and rock the tubing to allow the flow to run unimpeded. During this time I would chat with Ms. Brit.

At one point during the evening she looked at me and looked at the TV and said.

"You know it is the craziest thing...I know where I am, and what is happening, but I see the Pope in the TV, and over there is Marilyn Monroe in the corner, and occasionally Bruce Willis peeks his head out of the lavatory."

We could only agree that at least she was getting to meet some stars while she was visiting us.

Murder and the Man Next Door

Ms. Brit was unfortunate enough to be next door to a very sad, stroke victim who alternated between yelling in pain and singing old Irish bar songs.

Ms. Brit's solution:

"I wonder if my husband would let me marry that man next door," she hummed.

"Why ever would you want to do that?" I asked.

"Well, if I married him, I could take him for a nice walk along a cliff...and then push him off," she said with an angelic smile.

The Secret Life of Dentures

Ms. Brit looked at me in the wee hours of the morning and with a pleading voice requested the following:

"Please make sure, when my husband gets there that no one mentions my dentures in front of him."

I asked her why all the secrecy.

"When I was very young i fell water skiing and broke my front teeth and had to get dentures. Later on while my husband and I were courting he made a comment at a party about thinking "dentures were the most disgusting things ever created". So, I never told him I had them."

"How long have you been married?" I queried.

"Over fifty years."

This Just Doesn't Work Anymore

Working in small rural hospital can sometimes get to be dull (this was my first job, and unfortunately this story doesn't have Ms. Brit in it). One night I had "the itchy man". This was a 70-something gentleman of moderately confused spirits, who scratched his body constantly.

As with most skin ailments this man didn't want a stitch of clothing touching him at most times. One point during the night he wound up naked standing behind the door of his room. That night our ICU was closed so one the senior ICU nurses was my CNA for the night.

As she worked diligently to get him back to his bed however halfway to the bed he looked down, grabbed his member and stated:

"This thing just doesn't work like it used to."