DEMAND ACCOUNTABILITY, STOP ENABLING BAD BEHAVIOR!
By Max R. Weller
More drama from the street people who have taken up residence at Boulder Manor Progressive Care Center:
Oxycodone Guy, who until last week was my roommate in Room 606 at this purgatory (for those of us fortunate enough to be leaving — otherwise it’s H-E-L-L), threw another screaming tantrum last night, cursing one of the overworked CNAs by name because she didn’t answer the call light of Oxy Guy’s new roommate quickly enough to suit him. Believe me, that new roommate may be disabled but he’s more than capable of expressing his own displeasure in the most profane terms, and has done so frequently during my 4+ months here. Apparently, it’s true — short of a physical assault, these BUMS can do anything they please without fear of being discharged from the facility. A staff member let it slip to me that this is the policy of new management . . .
Another BM dope fiend came to the nurse’s cart for his meds this AM, as I was sitting in one of the rocking chairs nearby. She offered him his scheduled dose of Dilaudid, and he remarked, “Half of my leg is numb, and the other half hurts like blazes!” I bit my tongue, but this flashed through my mind — he should get only 1/2 dose of that narcotic painkiller.
Dilaudid Man also complained to the nurse that his roommate was hoarding perishable food items under his bed for days on end, making the room stink, but a few minutes previously to his conversation with the nurse he told the Housekeeper not to bother cleaning their room. WTF? Further evidence that drug abuse makes people stupid.
There’s a woman from Longmont in residence, and she is constantly repeating the same old boring trivia about her family strife. This morning was no exception, and she tossed in her critique of breakfast by saying, “The scrambled eggs were slimy and my bacon was raw!” I have found the eggs okay, even if they are the powdered variety shaken up in a bag with water, and my bacon was crisp as always. Of course, she was also anxiously awaiting her painkillers as she babbled on.
An old lady with dementia directly across the hall from my new room, #703, was screaming at the top of her lungs overnight AND they allowed her to have her TV’s volume cranked all the way up. I strongly suspect these patients also receive narcotic painkillers, and maybe they should increase her dosage. BTW, my new roommate is a guy disabled by a stroke, and he’s very quiet; his girlfriend / wife visits him often and she is very polite to me. This is shocking, after steady exposure to the BUMS’ BAD ATTITUDE.
Looking forward to my own escape.