Gimme Shelter

Janice hated the third shift and was mad at herself for getting talked into covering for Nancy.
“She never helps me out,” she thought, “I’m just too soft.”

She used to like the midnight shift. It was very quiet. Her hourly rounds rarely took more than 20 to 25 minutes, and the rest of the hour was usually hers to read or watch the small T.V. in the back office, or chat on the phone. She would call Todd every hour and they would just laugh back and forth. But Todd had dumped her and the last thing she wanted now was time to herself. She should be out there right now, clubbing big time. But here she was stuck in the “Gimme Shelter”.

That’s what all the nurses called this place, “The Gimme Shelter.” These people weren’t sick, they were selfish attention seekers---“gimme this, gimme that”--- all except for the new patient in 309, and he was nearly comatose. How did anyone know he belonged in this hospital?

Oh well, all the patients had their medications and were sedated for the night. All that was left was 309.

She opened the door and went into the dimly-lit room. She checked the monitors and signed the chart and then went to adjust the bedding.

“Good Evening, Mr. Culpa. Mr. Culpa, Can you hear me?
Do you know where you are, Mr. Culpa?
You’re in the Elgin Mental Health Center, Mr. Culpa.
Oh, now look what you’ve done. You’ve soiled yourself.
Just like a baby. Poor Felix, just like a baby!
I’ll have to get the orderly to help change your bedding.”

She checked the chart again.
“I’ll be back soon, Mr. “Last Name: Culpa/ First Name: Felix/ Middle Name: Sebastian.”