Kind of Crunchy

The other night I’m sitting at the desk trying to get caught up on charting while keeping an eye on my dude with hepatic encephalopathy who had been jumping out of bed all night long and was far too unsteady and weak to be doing that.  I had given him a cup of ice cream to keep him busy and distracted enough to stay in bed, for at least 10 minutes.  I look up, see he’s in bed, then do a double-take: he has the call light in his mouth, gnawing on it, like it’s the spoon he had been eating ice cream with.  Not just licking it or anything, but full on in the mouth, gnawing on it like a big ‘ol piece of chocolate.

I walk in and say, “You sure you should be eating that call light?”

He looks up, realizing for a moment what he’s doing and says, “You must think I’m pretty fucked up now, huh?”

“Naw,” I say, thinking exactly that.  “You’re just a little off.  Here’s the ice cream back.” as I handed him the cup that was sitting next to him in bed.

At least he stayed in bed for a little longer after that.


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