Tucked away in a darkened room at the end of the hallway, a patient slumbered under a tightly-wrapped web of blankets. Or at least, I assumed it was a patient. Everyone instinctively gave the room a wide berth, not daring to disturb the sanctity of the resting place. At one point during the shift, I noticed the patient's vitals hadn't been checked in hours, and went to grab a set. The nurse laughed as I set off down the hall, warning me to "be careful."
Entering the unlit chamber, I announced my presence, but received no response. Reaching out to tap the patient on the shoulder, he awoke with a start, slowly rose to a sitting position, and with the blankets hanging off his tiny frame, the little old man boomed: "Get your filthy damn hands off me, you f*ing piece of shit," and continued to hurl obscenities until I left the room.
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