Nurse Ratched Creative Writing

It’s my first day in this mental hospital, and I hate it. These green suits are like hazard suits. They’re meant to shield the wearer from hostile environments that are a threat to their health. Here, it’s the converse. They’re meant to protect the staff and society from us. I’ve heard from this Indian guy, some Chief Bromden, that whoever’s in there is different than what society accepts. I’ve also heard from him that Lord Nurse Ratched gets to determine whether you leave or not, which all depends if you’re committed. My entry interview to determine that is next.

What’s that Lucas? You’re lonely. Alright, I’ll come over and sit with you.
Lucas is one of my buddies who works in communications from the space program. Everyone thinks he isn’t
“Of course, Miss Ratched. I look forward to our discussion today,” I replied. Nurse Ratched from Chief’s stories is a middle-aged Army nurse who is nice, warm, and cooperative on the outside. However, in many situations, she apparently can heat up and embarrass people in a professional manner and grow in size as Chief likes to say, whereas the common folk may shout at each other with creative vocabulary. We enter the doctor’s office, and Dr. Spivey stands. “Good morning, Mr. Johansson. I am Dr. Spivey. We have brought you here for an introductory interview to discuss some fundamental information and concerns about you. May you take a seat?” he greeted. Dr. Spivey and I sit down, and Nurse Ratched leaves the room. Dr. Spivey’s office has newspaper articles pinned on the wall highlighting the success of his hospital and his degrees and certifications in a variety of fields. His large wooden desk is cluttered with hospital telemetry, shipping manifests, pharmaceutical catalogs, and a page from an old newspaper on my incident. “Mr. Johansson, I’m reading this newspaper I’ve retrieved on this incident you’re involved in. Is this true?” Dr. Spivey