T’was the night before Christmas and all through the psych ward not a creature was stirring except for an occasional loonie who was med seeking. The patients were doped up on their meds with care, with hope that a few more patients like Nick or Claus soon would be there.
The patients were nestled all snug in their beds, while visual hallucinations danced in their heads. The computer screens made the nurse’s faces glow, and work on the ward had begun to slow. A potluck dinner was had by the staff, and all of us gained at least two pounds and a half.
When out from the parking lot arose such a clatter. The ambulances had arrived and the doorbell was rung. The staff’s ears perked up to listen to what was the matter. Davonna had arrived with a patient in tow, with three more coming, all in a row.
No Dasher, no Dancer, no Prancer, nor Vixen. No Comet, No cupid, no Donder, nor Blitzen. Instead through the door in came the EMT’s. Along with patients named Dander, and Blunder, and Fix'em (names changed to protect the insane), none dressed to a tee.
We started work and had patients sign admission papers. While the nurses took care of medical matters. The patients brought clothes and all sorts of things in our presence. Alas, St. Nick they were not and the staff got no presents. We sent the patients off to their beds, all taken cared of, thanks to their meds.
As dawn approached with no sight of St. Nick, we’d done those admissions, I’d say pretty quick. But the intake office called out of the blue, saying five more patients were all in a queue. Without a full moon in sight yet we were getting patients all night, we couldn’t wait till 7:30 to bid the psychos Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
Public comments below, private comments: E-mail Me!