When I was a nurse’s aid before I became an RN I worked at a Salvation Army nursing home in Canada. “Peter” was admitted after an “Army” worker found him almost frozen to death downtown. He was a chubby little British guy, very sweet and funny. He had with him his trumpet which he played downtown for some drinking money. However, he had literally about 15 layers of clothing on and had not bathed in…a year? It took me and another aid 3 hours to bathe him. His socks had grown into his feet. He had over $5800 on him stored in various pockets in all of the clothing. He stayed for 3 months and then signed himself out. He never saw his cash again and never stopped asking about it. About a year or more later I was standing in line at the bank to cash my paycheck (this was 1986 so we used to have to do this to deposit, ATM’s were a new idea). It was Friday and the line was horrific. I was dressed up in a business suit and wool overcoat. I heard someone calling my name with a gruff voice. It was Peter! He had been keeping warm in the alcove of the bank entrance and recognized me. He was back on the street, with a new 15 layered outfit and had his old trumpet back. He smelled like a barnyard but I hugged him anyway. People in the bank line looked at me in utter disgust. I embarrassed real easily. I had to shave the patients scrotum prior to the surgery. Patients were very nervous about someone with a razor between their legs.
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