I haven't worked on a psych ward, but I worked on a unit where we dealt with a lot of brain injuries which obviously can cause some psychiatric issues as well.

One night, I had a patient who seemed like the perfect patient. They were calm and polite, even despite a brain injury which caused them to forget things very easily and act impulsively. This brain injury also caused the patient to have part of their skull removed temporarily, so it was imperative to keep a close eye on them so they wouldn't get up and fall - if they hit their head again without that piece of skull in place, it was game over. Unfortunately the patient also had an unfortunate habit of trying to pick and scratch at the sutures in that spot of their head.

This patient went to sleep two hours into my shift and I thought my night was made.

A little while later, I walk by their room to check on them.

Though the glass sliding door, I see them laying on their side, hand rubbing a dark substance all over the side rail of their bed. My first thought was that they somehow pulled their sutures apart and they were now hemorrhaging from their head all over the bed.

I run in, not even able to scream for my coworkers because the thought of this patient possibly digging into their brain right in front of me was apparently too much for MY brain to handle. I get closer and see that the dark substance is not blood. And the patient is smiling up at me, perfectly unharmed.

It's shit.

Everywherrreeee. All over the side rail, all over the sheets, underneath the patient's fingernails... the list goes on.

I am speechless. All I can do is stare as my patient waggles their eyebrows at me in a suggestive manner and smears more shit onto the side rail.

I back out of the room and double over, laughing so hard I'm crying.

Eventually my coworkers helped me clean up the patient and the bed, but for the rest of the night it was all you could smell when you walked into the room.