The Mold Standard

I work in the office of a company that staffs home health aides (HHAs assist with non-medical care, assist with daily living tasks, etc.). I get a call from one of our clients.

Client: “I am furious! No! Worse! I am livid!”

I gloss over the immediate need to create a list of synonyms for anger based on intensity (ADHD brain!) and ask the client:

Me: “Can you please let me know the issue that’s causing you distress, ma’am?”

Client: “That new woman you sent over! She’s a busybody! She’s getting too much into my business!”

Me: “The home health aide, [Name], who was assigned last week?”

Client: “Yes! Her! She got into my fridge and threw away all my jams!”

Me: “Did she say why?”

Client: “Yeah, but it was only a little bit of mold! I usually just scrape around those bits, and it still tastes fine on toast!”

Me: “Ma’am, it sounds like she was doing her job and assisting you in removing potentially hazardous food from your home.”

Client: “But I didn’t ask her to!”

Me: “Actually, you did, when you signed the contract to allow our HHAs into your home to assist your day-to-day living. The contract also involved monitoring your health, including any potential impediments to your health.”

Client: “Well… she had better replace all my jams! I had them organized just how I liked them!” *Click.*

When I mentioned the call to the HHA in the office, she just rolled her eyes.

HHA: “Yeah, technically she had them organized… from least to most moldy!”