Lockdown
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNJLH0bWHNLxx497RgdzkcXisgfOQZDO7tNqVyyU_5eXiQz8iDtTz83r8pCF8-2NXbkGTk9K5gfKqOKJrnxgWtayH0NvzUY2IZtAcwUDDm0Dre-JG21G0-piTY7H2zqVq9N9B/s200/One+Flew+Over.jpg)
Just because you're crazy doesn't mean you're immune from surgical disease. So every so often I get a consult from a psychiatrist to come see one of their inpatients who has developed some condition that requires my input.
And this should never come as a surprise, but the patients in the lockdown psych units are never like what's portrayed on TV. Sure, they're a bit eccentric and unkept, but so are the majority of the patients that I see just sitting around in the regular hospital floors. It's only after you get to talking to them that you realize, "Wow, this guy's nuts!"
So I was pleasantly surprised when the patient I was talking to this morning seemed perfectly normal... other than thinking that his cat told him that she would kill him in his sleep.
Regardless, I was asked to come by to look at his left arm, which had swollen to nearly three times normal. And as I was busy examining his left arm, it occurred to me that he was masturbating.
I had two choices: ignore it, or address it. As I was trying to figure out what I should do, he finished.
He then looked at me with a goofy smile on his face.
For Pete's sake.
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