Mystery Guests

 

Last Thursday when I saw mom she was frustrated trying to explain to me that two ladies who worked there were asking her a lot of questions.  She told them, “Please stop, I don’t like all these questions.”   She said to me, “Why are they doing that to me?”  I tried to explain that they are trying to be friendly.  Mom shook her head no, “Make them stop!”  Mom has always been clear that she does not enjoy being asked questions now more than ever.  She wanted me to find them, talk with them and tell them ‘never’ to come back.

Mom did not remember their names; she tried to describe what they looked like.  I kind of had an idea of who they were, but I was not positive.  Mom told me that she told them to talk to her daughter if they have any more questions.  They asked mom about Dana*, her hospice nurse, and mom said Dana* was her best friend.  Mom said they would not let up until she said, “No more”. 

Mom has a difficult time talking to begin with and becomes frustrated easily.  One thing she has always been resentful is when people ask her questions.  She feels like they are prying into her business.  Right now she has a difficult time with remembering and saying things to us that are important to her.  She becomes confused with the slightest questions.

After I was there awhile, two women walked up to us.  Mom said, “Here they are again.”  I was relieved to see the women mom was talking about.  Immediately Marianne*, the hospice social worker said, “Julienne, we visited with your mom today.”

“Yes, mom told me two ladies visited her and were asking too many questions.  She wanted me to tell you both not to do that again.”

“Julienne, your mom was very clear.  We had no doubt she wanted us to leave.  The reason we were here is because I wanted to introduce your mom to her new hospice social worker.  I am being transferred.”

I turned to mom to explain that to mom.  I also commented, “Mom, when I was choosing which hospice to go with, I met Marianne* and she convinced me to go with their group.  She is the reason we have Dana*”.  The mystery was over; mom was content knowing that I handled her problem today. 

When I left, things seemed better. Mom and I blew kisses.  Mom smiled and thanked me.