Thursday, October 8, 2009


I hate roaches (with heartfelt apologizes to [info]amanda_marrone ).

I especially hate BIG FAT ROACHES that make me SCREAM in a patient's room. Because when a nurse screams in a patient's room on a psychiatric unit, it usually means she's flat on the floor being pummeled within an inch of her life.

I didn't intend to scream. I intended--lacking any other weapons besides the soles of my favorite pink, fleece-lined Crocs--to place a Dixie cup over the roach and then...well, I dunno, I didn't think that far ahead. But when the cup hovered a few inches over the roach, the roach, who up to that point had sat there quietly contemplating the ways of the world, made a desperate beeline for my foot.

Must. Remember. Not. To. Scream.

Dr. B. ran in and squashed the roach. It took more than one stomp. Three, at least.

I can't believe I'm such a cliche! Just last week I screamed over a spider in my living room. A BIG FAT spider, too, though not as big as this roach. If that roach were any bigger it'd be pulling a Budweiser wagon.

Patient: "Hey, I'm not sleeping in this room tonight!"

I'm with you, buddy.

1 comment:

Jennifer Hudson Taylor said...

I understand. I think I'm the only grown woman who screeches at simple ants. I don't like anything that can be referred to as an insect.