The Memory of a Dream

Checklists

I had made it past noon doing paperwork and I was almost done. I was relieved to have the pile off my desk but, apprehensive about afternoon assignments. Melanie was eager to take her lunch break which meant I had to take back my assignments.

Why was I so obsessed with this? It's not a big deal. I just had to go about my day as usual. Routine. Just do my rounds. Check the vitals. Check off my forms and repeat. I could easily finish with the soldier and move on to the other patients.

I felt good and grabbed my clipboard and my check-off forms and started afternoon assignments. I had the left side of the hall and patients were scattered throughout the ward, some in the rec room, some sitting in the game room, some just standing around chatting. I got everyone done except the soldier. I avoided him which was a mistake because then I was nervous for the entire time I was taking care of everyone else. We weren't full still but it was only Saturday and tonight was New Year's Eve, we were bound to be full by morning.

I wandered around, checking in on everyone and I didn't see the soldier. I walked towards his room. I reached his door and peered my head around the corner. He was sitting quietly on his bed, his elbows on his knees, his fingers clasped, his head down and hung low. My heart broke a little. I could tell he was struggling. I took a deep inhale and walked in slowly.

"Hi Mr. Barnes, how are you feeling today?", I asked.

He looked up at me and I smiled even though I wanted to run away.

"I'm in a psych ward. I feel rather shitty.", he replied. I could hardly believe he spoke. I was seriously beginning to think he didn't have a voice to speak with.

I laughed nervously. "I know it stinks, but it's not the worse place you could be. Just hang in there and you'll be outta here in no time.", I told him.

He didn't smile, he just looked at me.

"Um, okay, well I need to do your check off form and then check your wounds. Are you okay with that?", I asked. Why was I asking his permission? I never gave patients a chance to have an opinion. For some reason, I wanted to make sure he was comfortable.

He nodded and I sat on the bed across from him on the other side of the room, even though there was a chair right next to his bed by the window.

"Okay, so we have to fill out these checklists of questions on each patient every day. Sometimes twice a day depending on the case. Just yes or no questions and answer them honestly please.", I said to him trying not to meet his gaze.

"Okay, are you feeling depressed or anxious?", he nods yes.

"Are you having suicidal thoughts?", he nods again

"Are you having thoughts of hurting others?", again he nods.

"Are you preparing a plan for suicide?", he shakes his head no.

"Are you seeing people, places, or things that aren't there?", he shakes his head no.

"Are you feeling any urges or desires you feel you shouldn't be feeling?", he doesn't nod or shake his head to this question. He just furrows his brow and looks at the floor for a moment.

I wait for his answer and ask him if I should repeat the question. He shakes his head and looks up at me.

"Urges or desires I feel I shouldn't having?.....yes. I suppose the answer is yes.", he says.

I just sat there, looking at him. My chest fluttered and my stomach tightened and I wasn't sure what to make of his answer. Am I overthinking this? Am I underthinking it? I broke his gaze and looked down at my form.