I was called to the room to do a breathing treatment.
The patient was sitting on the edge of the bed in no apparent respiratory distress. He said (with a straight face), "The nebulizer is missing. The nurses looked all over for it and they couldn't find it."
"So where did you hide it," I said. I opened up his bedside drawer. It wasn't there.
"Oh, it's not in this room."
"What, did it grow legs and walk off."
This conversation repeated itself with each treatment that night. After his last treatment before I went home, I put the nebulizer on a cart in the hall so the patient couldn't take it.
However, that didn't stop him.
The next night I found a better hiding spot for the neb. But now he was asking me for batteries for his walkman. No way was I going give him batteries.
"Come on, man. I need batteries."
"Sorry, we are out."
"Well, the last nurse that came in here said you had a bunch, and she'd be right back."
Some people lack in the quality of life department. I can only imagine what he's going to do with all these nebs when he gets home. He'll probably stuff them with cannabus and smoke the entire neb and fry the rest of his brain.