A patient got brought into the emergency department by police in a “hog tied” position.
According to police and to the patient’s brother, the patient had smoked some “K2” and then began drinking. He then listened to some unidentified rock music on the radio and decided that it was time for him to “spill his blood for Satan.” So he ran screaming through the house, stopped in the kitchen to grab a Ginsu knife, and then
ran staggered out the door toward the woods yelling unintelligible chants in order to find a suitable place to perform his sacrifice.
The patient’s brother then ran out of the house after him. When the patient realized that he could not outrun his brother, he turned around and held the knife to his neck and yelled “Don’t deny me!” His brother was unfazed and proceeded to knock the knife out of the patient’s hand. The patient then took off
running staggering again and his brother tackled him to the ground before he made it to the woods. In a feat of unparalleled strength, his brother then withstood the onslaught of countless demons that the patient summoned to whisk his brother away to the fires of Hell.
By the time the patient made it to the emergency department, he was writhing back and forth on the ambulance stretcher, contorting his neck, and putting on a pretty good show. The police let his legs loose so that we could sit him on the stretcher.
“Stay away from me, mortal. Or I will summon Satan himself to destroy you.”
“Yeah, OK. Did you use any drugs tonight?”
“I WILL SUMMON SATAN!”
“Satan isn’t his real name, is it? What’s his real name?”
“Satan is his real name!”
“I think that’s his stage name. Kind of like how she’s ‘Lady Gaga’ in public, but how she’s Stefani Germanotta in real life. So what’s his real name? After all, he was the spirit of a live person, right? They used two names back then. Even Jesus went by ‘Jesus of Nazareth.’ Was he like ‘Satan of Paris’ or what? Who were his parents?”
“He is one of seven spirits. The other six are going to come to get you. They’re GOING TO COME AND GET YOOOUUUUUUUU!”
“Well, this is a religious hospital, so there’s no way for them to get inside. Won’t happen.”
“They’re GOING TO COME AND GET YOOOUUUUUUUU!”
“That’s it. Nurse. Can you go get me the restraints? Make sure that you dip them in holy water over in the chapel, too.”
Fortunately, his close ties to the underworld did not make him impervious to the effects of Haldol and Ativan. Soon, Satan’s minion was snoring soundly on the bed.
And I checked his wrists, too — there were no burn marks from the holy water.
This and all posts about patients may be fictional, may be my experiences, may be submitted by readers for publication here, or may be any combination of the above. Factual statements may or may not be accurate. If you would like to have a patient story published on WhiteCoat’s Call Room, please e-mail me.