Stag Night

Generally speaking nurses have a bit of a rep for working hard, but they are equally fond of playing hard too. 'If you can't get a girlfriend, get a nurse' as the saying goes. The stresses of the job and the uniqueness of the situations which they find themselves in, behind the closed doors of the wards, make for an interesting perspective on life.

Of course Psych nursing in particular takes the bizarre to new heights of normality. I suppose when insanity, violence and tragedy are the norm of one's working environment, then this eventually becomes the baseline for 'normality' and thus new heights of weirdness need to be sought out, just to get your kicks. It is with this background that I ruefully recount the following anecdote..

Now, when a chum or colleague (esp. male) is getting married, it's often considered the right thing to play some little trick on them, just to show how much you care. Typical scenarios include taking them out with the boys (or girls) and getting them so pissed that they don't turn up in time (if at all) for the marriage ceremony. Other jolly prenuptial japes include escorting them to a strip joint for a night of innebriated sleaze ("Well it's yer last night of freedom mate"), shoving a tub of axle grease down their pubes (garage mechanics take note), sticking them on a train to Glasgow or indeed, all three.

Dan was a Senior Staff Nurse on our ward, a 30-bed all male acute psychiatric unit. A quiet, unassuming fellow of gentle demeanour, Dan was a bit of a hippy to be sure, distinguished by his dry wit and wry perspective. And he was getting married tomorrow..

I'm not sure how it all began, because I'm sure the idea was just to chuck him in the bath (an inductive privilege usually reserved for fledgling student nurses) or give him a traditional moistening with the fire hose. But, well I suppose the sense of occasion went to everybody's head a bit and before anyone knew what was happening, Dan had been dragged out the back by several staff members (we had such persuasive techniques down to what can only be considered a fine art form), stripped naked, tied to a tree, had a bottle of ink squirted over his privates and was being hosed down with a fire hose so powerful that it took two staff members to hold it on target. Honestly, with his white, skinny body and long hair and beard, the poor bugger looked like some bedraggled and forlorn Jesus figure. It was a bit spooky really.

I must say that he took it quite well and managed to see the funny side. Something which can't be said for the hospital Administrator who called the ward the next day (damn, why did I have to be the one who picked up the phone), demanding an explanation and a detailed list of all those involved. Turns out one of the secretarial staff had been passing and had been a little concerned at some of the avant garde psychiatric treatment methods apparently being meted out on some hapless soul in the car park.

It was almost with a sense of privilege that I was invited to stand on the personal carpet of the Chief Hospital administrator for 'a bit of a chat'. I managed to convince him that it had all been my own idea and that my colleagues ("can't seem to remember exactly who else was involved, all a bit of a blur, sorry..") had all been under some sort of Machiavellian or Mallettian influence on my part.

I must say that he too took it quite well considering, acknowledging the need for staff to let off steam in such a stressful environment and alluding to my previous 'promising future' with the Health Authority eliminating the need for 'any further action'.

Apparently it took 5 weeks for all the ink to come off...