Crazy Milkshake

In the course of looking through archives of prior writings, I found a couple poems from 1985 that had not caught up to the collection. Folks, that's a long time ago, but still, 7 years into my healthcare career I was already battered. As a result, something triggered one of those visceral memories of crazy nonsense and I immediately wrote the following: (Actually, I loved working Recovery, but still.......)

You are driving me crazy

And it's all your fault,

First, you asked for a milkshake

Then complained, it wasn't a malt,

You preferred low-sodium crackers

Then said, they weren't very salty,

Now, I'm beginning to think

Your cognition is faulty. 

For a while I could accommodate

The forgetting and confusion,

After all, you were totally doped up

But now it's a forgone conclusion,

That you are a user of something

Unlisted on your preop discovery,

Totally skewing our assessment

During procedural recovery.

Well, as I mentioned once before

Ones real self is exposed at this time,

When your barriers are drugged

Showing the hidden-under slime,

That slithers beneath the surface

Of your facade of normality,

Now all I have to figure out

Is how to prevent a fatality.

Other nurses like me 

Were injured by folks like you,

Your little monsters inside

That were hidden from view,

By a cheerful outward countenance

"Oh honey, he wouldn't hurt a fly",

Except when he kicked my into the wall

I had a concussion.............might I die?