I'm a self-proclaimed asshole. I don't like bitch because it suggests that there is some sort of hormone that is influencing my behavior, and my life isn't governed by estrogen. No, I'm just a plain and simple, garden variety, asshole.
However, while I may be an asshole, I am an asshole with purpose. There's always a reason, something that needs done, or a point to be made. With great power, comes great responsibility. And I won't waste my talents on just anyone. If you are rude? I'm going to be an asshole. If you are an ignorant derp? Asshole. If you are mean to people for your own personal enjoyment? When I am done with you, you are going to think I am the genesis of assholery.
I mention this, because we have a frequent flyer patient who is also an asshole...but an asshole with no other purpose than to control people. Because of the nature of his illness, he can only come to my floor. Other floors will never experience his charming personality. There are no good qualities about him, and when we see his name on our patient list, a little part of us dies inside. Some people have openly wondered just when he's going to die. He's demanding, degrading, demeaning, insulting, abusive, makes staff members cry, openly hostile, controlling, and just an overall colossal douche.
In dealing with him through the ages, we guess that he has some sort of Borderline Personality Disorder, because no one person could be that evil just for fun. We've also mapped out his tactics and manipulations (all lies), which he switches seamlessly when staff doesn't cave to his terrorism.
Flattery: Oh! I remember you!! You're are my most absolute favorite nurse EVER!!! I even was telling my wife about you the other day. Now give me what I want.
Guilt: I'm a dying man!! I only have months to live! Honor a dying man's last request and give me what I want.
Baiting: You are the crappiest nurse on the planet! If you want to prove me wrong, you will give me what I want.
Fear: My brother's cousin's wife's roommate is on the board of directors for ACME Hospital. If you don't give me what I want, I will have you fired.
Playing Sides: The other doctor/nurse said I could, and it was okay. So, you can give me what I want, too.
Pastor Douche: The bible says that you need to treat all people with respect and Jesus Christ blah, blah, etc. If you were a good Christian, you would give me what I want because Jesus would.
Weaker or newly minted nurses, have been reduced to tears by this man. Everyone who has dealt with him longer have come up with new and creative ways of telling him to go fuck a goat. Figuratively speaking. I try to avoid him altogether because we'd get into yelling matches, which would draw an audience outside the door. Usually nurses, sometimes with popcorn. One time, when he used his entire arsenal and hit nothing but air, he told me that he was happy that I was going home in the morning.
"Trust me, sir." I said before marching out of his room, "No one could possibly be more happy about that than I am."
He's this way to everyone...doctors, nurses, management. There is nothing that can be done to shut him up, short of some anterior pillow therapy. Instead, we get pats on the back, sympathetic murmurs, and maybe a pizza party upon his discharge.
So, he just visits us often, makes our lives miserable for a week or so, then goes home. Lather, rinse, repeat.
During his last visit, when he realized that he was going to get no where with me, he flatly told me, "You're a bitch."
"Actually, sir, if you don't mind," I replied. "I prefer asshole."