Okay, the truth is that I do enjoy working with brain injured people sometimes.
We got an admission tonight who reminds me of M, who I told many stories about few months back on livejournal. (I could repost here.) I was really fond of M. From M's condition and prognosis on arrival to where he was when he left? We made a rocket scientist out of him. And the entire team here fought tooth and nail for every inch. That crazy bastard enriched my life more than I ever did squat for him.
So tonight's admit is not even my patient, but P is stepping back a lot and letting me kind of manage him. It's been okay in this case that she wants me to take over for (yet another) patient she can't manage well because she's not pretending it's so I can "practice", I'm getting paid to be charge tonight and she actually asked for a hand tonight BEFORE something went horribly awry.
And he's nuts. Nuts in that way only the head-bonked seem to be, which is not the same as dementia or Axis I psych. He's quite friendly, and so far hasn't taken a swing at anybody. He tried to leave and we did have to do some IVP meds and he's got a posey bed, which he hates. (As you would, too.) But we're managing and he's having a fantastic night all things considered.
But he's uniquely funny in the way of someone with a TBI too. And I'm not laughing at...what I find funny is how beautifully the mind works and the connections it makes. It's like there's a layer of film of varying murkiness between some people with TBI and you...a layer that can only be crossed with a Babel Fish.
Had a patient once substitute "train" for the word "clock". Once I had that translation click through the Babel Fish, not only did I understand the patient, I felt like I got this glimpse of color about the person's life. His look was of someone who speaks a language you do not, but through charades and well-intentioned, but mangled conjugations, meaning suddenly shines through. Yes! You know what I'm saying! And to me, it felt like a deeper understanding somehow than if he'd used the proper noun.
Train. Clock. A smidge of viridian green left over from here, or an arch of charcoal over there. Color worth the work it took through translation.
So this new guy woke up at 0300 (in his poseybed) and he called out, "Can I get some help in here?" So S (CNA) gets up to go help. "....And can I get a butter knife?"
And I think of the Great Escape and somewhere I wonder if he's planning on hiding the butter knife in his sock so he can hunker down and dig his way out of his posey bed when we're not looking.
And it makes me laugh deep. Because that makes SO much sense.
And I have decided that I really like this guy and I'm looking forward to more through the Babel Fish.