OD or not OD? That is the question.

We have a regular. She's a few fries short of a Happy Meal. Actually, she's short the most of the hamburger, too. And the drink.

She's one of those people that you'd like to feel sorry for, but she irritates the holy hell out of you, which effectively cancels out the sympathy factor most of the time. And she has a beard. Which is kinda scary.

Her schtick is to pretend to OD on her meds so that they'll send her off to one of the psych facilities for a few days. She's lonely at home, and when she's an inpatient, she gets some attention.

It's getting harder and harder to find placement for her, because chronic fake suicide attempts are apparently only covered for a finite number of times, and she's approaching that number. But, sad as that is, it's not the story.

She's been in twice this week.

The first time, it was a typical visit. "I took too many of my pills." Only this time, Nurse Ratched, my most favoritest co-worker ever in the history of the world (except for Nonchalant Nurse Who's Seen and Done Everything, of course) wasn't having any of that.

NR: "No, you didn't."

Bearded Crazy Lady: "Yes, I did."

NR: " No, you didn't."

BCL: "I did. I really did!"

NR: "Bearded Crazy Lady, you always say that you took too many of your pills, and we always test your levels, and they're always normal. Your vitals are perfectly normal, and you're not acting the way you would be acting if you had taken what you said you've taken. So, again, no, you didn't."

BCL: "Yes, I did."

"No, you didn't," "Yes, I did," ensued for several cycles. I'm pretty sure Nurse Ratched would have kept it up for hours if the Doc hadn't come in. She seemed to be enjoying herself.

Anyway, end result was the same as usual. Normal drug levels, monitored for however long we usually monitor her, shipped away for a 72 hour hold. Diagnosis changed from suicide attempt to suicidal ideation.

Fast forward 4 days. (For those interested in doing the math, that's 72 hours + transportation home + a couple of hours to realize that she's still lonely.)

EMS brings in BCL for yet another possible OD. Only this time she's tachycardic, lethargic, and adamant that she didn't take anything. Nurse Ratched is working again, because, well, that's all she does. She'll be dead of exhaustion before she can make it to retirement.

Nurse Ratched: "BCL, what did you take?"

BCL: "Nothing. I didn't take nothing."

NR: "Precisely my point. If you didn't take nothing, then that means you took something. So what did you take?"

BCL (with a look of confusion, as the logic escapes her): "Nothing! I didn't take nothing!"

NR: "Yes, you did."

BCL: "No, I didn't."

NR: "BCL, you come in here all the time saying you took too many pills, and your vitals are always perfectly fine and you're acting normal. Tonight, your vitals are all cattywhompus and you're slurring your words, but you say you didn't take anything. I think you're lying."

BCL: "No, I'm not! I didn't take any pills!"

NR: "Yes, you did."

BCL: "No, I didn't."

Again with several cycles of "Yes, you did," "No, I didn't." This time, Nurse Ratched wasn't enjoying the exchange. But the irony didn't escape us.

In any case, she did, in fact, take too many pills. She was admitted for observation, and then shipped away for her 72 additional hours of attention.

We should see her again at the beginning of the week.

**Disclaimer: I am not making fun of psych patients in general, nor am I saying that there are not people who legitimately need help. I am merely making fun of this particular person, her abuse of the system, and these particular visits.