Unprecedented, and likely unnecessary

I never publicly share stories from work even though millions of interesting and amusing events go on every day. I work under a strict set of privacy and confidentiality policies and I usually just steer clear from inviting the general population into my work life out of convenience for myself and protection for my patients. However, the events that unfolded this evening were so wildly amusing to me that I simply had to share. I will keep it as anonymous as possible.

It started with a toad and a nun.

I had completed approximately 96% of my work and to be honest, I was fully planning on settling in behind my desk and tucking in to the book I'd brought along - "A House Like a Lotus". I sunk into my chair to take a sip of my cherry coke, planning to get up momentarily to fetch my book from my purse. I heard a sound that instantaneously dredged up panic, annoyance, irritation, and dismay. Those emotions all culminated and exited my body in one frustrated groan. The sound I'd heard was a high-pitched, whiny croak.

"Nuuuuurse!" A small, bug-eyed face peered over the desk. Imagine a person shaped exactly like a large, fat toad. Warts. Large glassy orbs for eyes. Stubby extremities. Flapping frown for a mouth that was reminiscent of Beeker from the Muppets. This patient gets on my nerves more than any other. She's always whining and crying for random items of food. This night was no exception. "Do you have any caaakes?" I took a deep breath, then another for good measure.
"No, no cakes. I have a sandwich here if you want it."
"Caaakes?"
"No. No cakes. Sandwich." Me - waving it about to prove it existed.
"Sammmweeech?" I nodded and started to unwrap it from the plastic wrap. "Meat sammmweeech?"
"No. It's peanut butter. It's all I have though." She started to cry big, salty tears and I was chewing on the inside of my lip.
"Caaakes! Sammweeech!" I tried to convince her to go back to her room, that she wouldn't die from starvation, that there are worse things in the world than having to eat a peanut butter sandwich. I felt a headache coming on when I saw one of my aides wheeling a chair down to me. I died a little inside.

We have several nuns at our facility. This particular Sister was an Irish nun most of her life but was sent to us when the facility where nuns and priests go to retire (who knew there was even such a place? It was "somewhere down-river," another nurse had informed me with a general wave of her arm to point out the facility's location in the universe) had decided she was too...spirited for them to handle. Lucky, lucky me.

"She won't stay in her chair and we're trying to do rounds. Are you busy?"
My brain, attempting to salvage what was left of my alone time - "Yes! YES! For God's sake, someone is coding! Get me a crash cart! Sister will have to fend for herself!"
My mouth, bidding farewell to my relaxing evening - "No...I guess I can keep an eye on her..." All my happy feelings were dead. A fiery smile beamed out from Sister's wizened face. She was thin, short, and basically an adorable old woman in a carefoam chair (think recliner with taller sides). She looked quite demure with a plaid handmade blanket in her lap with her name embroidered on it. Hands folded in lap. Quiet. "I can do this," I told myself. I took her from the aide and parked the chair in front of my desk. There was an alarm in the chair that would sound if she tried to get up (she was too weak to walk on her own). I was sure that was enough. I sat down behind the desk again and opened the cover of "A House Like a Lotus", savoring the smell of the old library book. Alarm sounding. Sister had somewhere to be. 
"Sit down please, Sister. I don't want you to fall."
"Thanks be to God." And she sat down. She started to fiddle with her blanket and reach for invisible things on the floor. The more busy she became, the more the alarm would sound. I gave her something for agitation and took her to the quiet lobby away from the unit, figuring maybe a change of scenery would calm her. I parked her chair in its most reclined position, hoping against hope that her meds would kick in and she wouldn't be strong enough to get out on her own. I handed her a book and she appeared interested. I sighed and opened my book again, admiring the lotus design on the chapter heading, thinking perhaps it would make a good tattoo. I casually glanced over the top of the book at Sister, who was being very quiet. I saw a a great deal of nudity and jumped up, book falling to the floor. Her gown was neatly folded on the table next to her and she was working hard on removing the knee-high stockings she was wearing.

"Sister! You have to keep your clothes on! You can't be naked in the lobby."
"Oh heavens, no. Thanks be to God." Then something in Gaelic. I worked her wiry limbs back into her gown and tied it in two places with many knots. 'They'll have to cut her out of this in the morning, but I don't care,' I told myself. I sat back down and picked up my poor book off the floor. After reading a few words, the alarm in her chair sounded again. She had the gown completely off except for not being able to pull it over her head due to the many knots. I put her arms back in the sleeves and tucked under her body. Went back to my book for several minutes. Peered over the top. She had instantly, silently removed the Sherpa fleece-like cover from the entire chair (yes, the same chair she was sitting in) and was wearing the cover like a cloak. I could only see her tiny face. The gown was off and folded on the table. I put my book away for good. After I got her all settled again, I decided to stop being selfish and try talking to her.

"Sister, where were you born?"
"Éire."
"What city?"
"Dublin."
"You speak Irish then? Gaelic?" She nodded. "Any other languages? I imagine you know a great deal of Latin." She laughed in a fashion that let me know she was, indeed, laughing at me. She nodded, then the rest of what she said was in Gaelic. She set about trying to escape the chair and strip, simultaneously. I was getting a little panicky. The only words I knew in Gaelic were 'Pangur Ban' from the movie Secret of Kells that Lilah watches incessantly and I knew it meant 'pure white' or 'bright white' but that was hardly a conversation starter. I feebly hummed a few lines of a Gaelic song from the movie, hoping to God it was some deeply moving melody from her childhood in Dublin and we could share a moment while she drifted off into a happy sleep. She raised a white eyebrow at me and started praying in Latin. I didn't take that as encouragement to sing and fell silent again. Another nurse happened along after over an hour of my failed attempts to keep her calm and still. I'm sure we were a sight. Me with my head in my hands next to a half-naked nun.

"Hi, Sister! How are you this evening?" Sister smiled at her, the perfect hybrid smile of devil, child, and saint. The nurse looked at me. "Is she full of it tonight?" I nodded. "The best way to get her to settle down is to put a bedside table in front of her with a snack and a drink on it. That keeps her busy and she doesn't try to climb out of the chair and get hurt with the table there. Her favorite is a peanut butter sandwich." I felt like all of Heaven's angels were singing a celestial chorus about peanut butter sandwiches. I thanked God and every saint I could think of that the Toad hadn't made off with the lone peanut butter sandwich on the unit. I set Sister up with her snack and she ate it. When she was finished (amazingly, still fully clothed), she looked at me, chuckled, then drifted off to sleep.