I don't know my name... but I can read!

So this is not a recent story... but one worth telling (as per my friends).

Here is the background: I work with all different kinds of patients. From the young to the old... I kid you not... from 14 years old to 103 years old. (Those are my records to this date!). Caring for the spectrum of patients that I do... you see the differences in care that are required from one to the other. You also start to see a pattern in the different ages and sexes. For example... middle age men are the biggest babies about pain, regardless about the injury! But that is for another story. (And I'm SOOO not kidding... BABIES). Back to my story... I've discovered, in my non-scientific method, that old men and old women find 'confusion' in their own ways. They display their down slide into nightly confusion (sun-downing) in individual fashion. Old men generally undress and 'explore' themselves. Old women YELL out... what they yell is up to the individual.

So, to the story that my friends find worth a laugh. Generally, when a patient becomes 'confused' they can barely tell you their name. And if they do come up with their name, they usually assume that they are in their home and that there are some kids running around outside that they need to yell at. Usually they can't even tell you their name, and they have no idea what's going on... let alone read ANYTHING. So we had this >90 year old patient. This patient was clearly one of the smarter confused patients that we have ever had. In the middle of the night we suddenly hear "main menu" "main menu" "main menu" at a decible worthy of a football game. So what's caused it... the TV in the room has crashed and it's on the "Main Menu." Ok... so the patient doesn't know their name but they can read. A plus for sure. Shortly there after we hear "I'm thinking Arby's"... over and over again. Smart little confused patient... but I think Arby's is out of the question for you. At a loss we put the patient in a chair, in the hallway, at the nurses station. Suddenly... as the doctors are rounding on their patient... this patient yells out... at a decible level worthy of... say, standing in the engine of a lear jet at full throttle... "STROKE." So the staff runs to the patient... hello, we are in a primary stroke center.... "what do you mean? how are you feeling? what do you mean 'stroke'?" This patient looks at us and says "I'm feeling 'wildly' dizzy." Okay... lets get some vital signs and an assessment. Mid-blood pressure... "Help... help... help." Now I'm confused, I'm standing right in front of the patient talking to her. Then the patient points to the sign 0n the wall in front of her... "Stroke."

I lost 10 minutes of my life and about 2000 heartbeats. And now... I'm thinking Arbys.