Neurological nightmares

I have a pleasantly demented patient, Mrs. Tangle. She's very nice, but quite confused, and getting slowly worse. She's at an assisted living apartment.Her husband died 2 years ago. They had a few old boxes in a closet that no one ever got around to unpacking. The family figured they were clothes, or pictures, or whatever. They were buried under blankets and photo albums and other stuff.So a few days ago I got a call from the patient's son. He urgently needed to talk to me, and Annie told me that I needed to deal with this one personally. I trust her judgment when she says that. So I took the phone. At about the same time I picked him up, Mary said the police had just called wanting to talk to me about Mrs. Tangle, and were on another line.Dr. Grumpy: "This is Dr. Grumpy."Mr. Son: "I need to talk to you about Mom! She unpacked some old boxes in her closet!"Dr. Grumpy: "Okay. What's the problem?"Mr. Son: "We didn't know what was in them! We thought it was clothes or something!"Dr. Grumpy: "And..?"Mr. Son: "One had Dad's old gun, from when he was a policeman!"Dr. Grumpy: "What! Is it loaded?"Mr. Son: "I have no idea. The nursing home just called me! She's wandering around with it. She's not threatening anyone, but she's walking all over there waving a gun!"Dr. Grumpy: "Has anyone tried to get it away from her?"Mr. Son: "Um, I was hoping you would go over and do it."I told him no, and grabbed the other line. It was the Grumpyville police, wanting to know just how mentally intact...
Source: Doctor Grumpy in the House - Category: Neurologists Authors: Source Type: blogs