Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Marlee, God struck me once. Well. maybe more than once, but this story is about a time I worked on an adult mental health ward. Yes, Marlee. worked. Don't let your Dad tell you I was a patient though I'm sure I could've passed as such.
Anyway. Back to God, Marlee.
I got struck by a man who was wanting to get in a woman's room. The woman, she needed protecting so I stood between the man and her room and said as nicely as I possibly could, Mister. She doesn't want to see you right now.
That's when, Marlee, he lifted his fist and started chanting, In the name of God, in the name of the Father, in His Son, Tell me what to do. Tell me what to do. Take it now.
Because I had been trained to handle those patients whose psychosis had a violent nature and because I thought I knew what I was doing, I reached for that man's fisted hand. Ya' know, not knowing what he was planning on taking.
He got me with the other one, Marlee. His other hand flattened in a slap came from below and against my cheek. Don't worry. I didn't go down. I took it and immediately five other men confined as patients to that unit were holding him.
The woman was safe. I was safe. The man got some medicine.
What was confirmed for me that day, Marlee, is that not everybody who speaks in the name of their God, says what I hear God is saying. Still, never doubt, they believe it.
Just be careful is what I'm saying.
Today I am grateful for a healthy skepticism which makes me question everything.