Mom’s latest version of her medical persecution complex…

I returned two phone messages that mom left this afternoon. She wanted her brother’s contact information as his birthday is approaching. When she answered the phone, I greeted her with “Hi Mom, I’m returning your call!” She asked the expected, “Oh! What did I want?!” We discussed her brother’s birthday, and then wandered down a mostly enjoyable conversational path. I worked diligently at keeping the conversation light.

A three second pause in the conversation brought on a new variant in her doctor(s) confabulation. It went like this:

Mom assured me Dr. O (mainland doc) said she could go home at any time, and that, again, she didn’t need to see a neurologist. Further she said she had paperwork regarding this, but would have to find it. This was followed by her assertion that Dr G (her Island doc) was the one who wanted her to go to neurology. She said she’d sent Dr. G. a note asking about his referral to neurology, and suddenly he showed up at her door and ‘carried on’ for 40 minutes about how she shouldn’t dare return home. This devolved into accusations that Dr G. wanted to exercise her insurance for his financial benefit (which he certainly can’t do now that mom is not his patient, nor has he ever done ~ I have all of mom’s medical insurance explanation of benefits. Everything is above board), his being professionally insecure that there were other medical practices on the Island, and again, that mom hadn’t needed to see a doctor for years and years, due to her amazing health. She continued that she stopped being his patient because he was “weird,” and saw who ever was available for the infrequent medical attention she required. I refrained from asking her whose care she sought out for her compression fracture 11 months ago…

I turned the conversation to less fraught topics, after listening at length and murmuring, “oh my,” and ‘hmmmm,” a whole lot of the time. This was a midterm in not turning the patient away from their reality, and being credible in the conversational exchange. I passed. B+/A-!

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