Grey Lady Down
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When I was student I sometimes worked as a security guard in a hospital (and, Christ, do I have a load of stories about *that* period in my life. I'll tell you about them sometimes..)

Anyway, it was a regular occurrence for my radio to crackle into life with:

"Grey Lady doing a runner - catch the bitch"

And I'd be off legging it up the road to catch some confused old biddy dressed in her nightie trotting up the road. Most of them were sleep-walking and could be easily led back to the ward but we'd occasionally get one who was actually making a break for freedom from "the dying place". Those old bastards used to actually fight you. It's not nice being gummed by an old bat trying to bite you without her teeth in.

One night I particularly remember because somebody must have mixed up the meds on the Geriatric ward because they were all fucking at it. It was like the Great Escape with all those doddering bastards making their breaks for freedom. As soon as you got one back in bed, another two would make a dash for it - one out of the door, another out of a window. I tell you, it was like trying to herd cats getting these crumbliest back to bed. In the end we had to keep a guard in the ward all night. He later told me it was like being trapped in Hell with the Chorus Of The Dammed - all these drugged up coffin-dodgers shrieking and cursing.

We never did find out what set them all off together.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 25 Aug 2007, 10:58, Reply)