Tonight I was totally on my game. I had about 2 psych patients with chest pain cutting up (one of which threatened to kick my ass), then a third who developed chest pain when she figured out that she wasn't going to get admitted for the side effects of her bipolar meds that had been going on for 3 weeks. Pretty standard stuff for me but lots of it. So the doctor had already established a pattern when at 5 AM, I brought him the chart of the patient who saw the US mint commercial on TV and decided that it was a sign that the government was trying to assassinate him. Yeah. He didn't even really seem all that shocked when I told him the dude had listen Jesus Christ as his person to contact in an emergency, or that he had brought a turd to the hospital with him in a plastic bag so that we could check it for the poison that the government had injected into his body.
He just kind of sighed, looked at me and said, "Damn it, hood nurse. Take your psych patient mojo elsewhere." Oh, if only.