Homeless man with schizophrenia: You don't smoke do you? I could tell you didn't. Smokers usually have darker skin. And look at you -- white as a ghost!
Manic patient, as she shakes my hand and sees my claddagh ring: Are you married? Engaged? Hoping to be engaged? A fan of the Society of the Sacred Heart? Do you love Jesus? Are you Catholic?
Attending: tell me, do you still feel special?
Other manic patient: Yes
Attending: how so?
Manic patient: I'm a genie. I'm God. I'm Bo Derek.
[this same conversation takes place on rounds every. single. morning]
Me: We can't let you go until we're convinced you're going to be safe.
Suicidal patient: why do you think I'm unsafe?
Me: You drank 15 shots of vodka and then swallowed fifty pills.
Patient: oh that was an accident. I got my pill bottles mixed up.
Me: You swallowed fifty pills...accidentally?
Patient: Yes.
Me: That seems tough.
Patient: It's not.
Patient: when can I go home?
Me: We need to find a place for you to live first.
Patient: what about my house?
Me: the walls are falling in, it's covered in trash and it's been condemned by the city.
Patient: so?
Schizophrenic patient: You can't keep me here against my will!
Me: actually, we can if you're a danger to yourself or others
Patient: but I'm not an American citizen! I'm not subject to your laws!
Me: .....untrue
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