At a family friend's 21st last night I was comparing horror stories about working for the NHS/Health Trusts/Borough Councils, with a friend who had worked within a mental health care team a year or so back. We swapped case stories that had stuck out - the man who'd explicitly told nursing home staff he had to get his mother's placement funded because she was spending his inheritance [nice], the depressive who choked to death on a teabag [seriously] - but then she beat me hands down, with the tale of a patient of hers who, a couple weeks into her job, changed his last name. To Jesus-Christ-Our-Saviour.
Amazing.
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