Himself was here!

Ah puzzles! You know how I love a puzzle. What irritates me are clues ill-presented.
A few clues were planted my way this week in a disorderly fashion and the puzzle did not come together until I went to bed last night when the dream me send the awakening me a message. Receieved. Thank you.

It does sound like a bad re-write of a Bill & Ted movie but truly this is what transpired.

Day 1:
Walking into the assisted living building where so many of my clients reside, I heard the day manager on the telephone to a resident. She was frantically motioning to me and then asked if I was going to a certain person. I was not.
"Well she is on the phone telling me if she doesnt get her breakfast right now she is going to faint. And telling me to stop letting people in to use her bathroom. This is getting ridiculous."

Indeed so. Assisted living means housekeeping and one meal a day is provided. Breakfast and lunch are expected to be done by the resident. Dinner is a wonderful affair in the formal dining room where servers bring the meal. At no time did this building ever supply breakfasts or servers for breakfast.

Day 2:
Walking into the same building after a discussion on the intercom with the same person. "Now you aren't going to let any men in are you?"
Of course I am not.

When I went upstairs she wouldn't let me in until she was positive it was me.
"Who else would it be?" I asked her.

"The Devil himself."

Day 3:
I am in the suite serving up her medications with some protein as she seems a little wonky. She tells me how nice it is to have someone who knows what they are doing around. Interesting comment as it doesn't take a rocket scientist to pour and administer a medication. She looks at me and asks me:
"I always thought I was a fair person. Not a real good person I would say but a fair person."
Yes, I am sure you were/are I answer her wondering what brought this on.
"I had an awful turn when himself showed up. I guess I must be a bad person. And he seemed very genial too."

I really don't want to have to report this. I really really don't so I ask the building manager on the way out if anything out of the ordinary has been happening in the building.

"Other than her calling me 4 times a day worrying about people in her suite? No."


The dream me is a smarty-pants sometimes.
I dream about this Irish woman and her homilies about devils and angels.
In my dream, she looks at me and says: "And the Devil's name is Hank."
I wake up immediatly and I know what happened.

Community Health like all branches of healthcare in this province has been undergoing dreadful changes. They filter on down the line and impact people like my client.
This little Irish woman has a note on her file NOT to send male workers. EVER.
They sent Hank.
Hank is tall and lanky with dark hair and a goatee.

Imagine what fresh hell that was for little Maggie the client.
At work today, I checked the notes and the schedules. Yup.
That's who was there.

Poor little Maggie. She really isn't as dotty as we think.
But I do stop by her home for a little chat to explain to her that this man Hank was in fact a good person not a minion of the Prince of Darkness and due to a regrettable error was sent to her home. I tell her this a few times a few ways until she tells me the story back.

"You know, the other day I looked up and there was Himself. So I called the Office. And they told me, no thats just Hank. He only looks like Himself."

What a week!