St. Dymphna

It is a truth universally to be acknowleged that all elderly women of this area are dedicated to sending money to any and all Catholic charities. Said donations are always responded to by sending the donor a holy card.
(For the uninitiated, a holy card is rather like a baseball card. On the front is a picture of the chosen player or saint, on the back are listed the statistics.Ladies are always happy to have the holy card as it signals they have not just sent money to the Haddessah or the Holy Rollers .) Some time ago a "friend" danced into the kitchen holding a card aloft. "I've found her," she announced. "I've found your patron saint in my mother's mail."
"My patron saint is Anne," I pointed out. It had been a hard day with the dogs and the relatives.
"No." She was in fine fettle. "Your patron is Saint Dymphna."
"I don't want her, she's one of those made up in a very old book of saints saints. At least Anne may have existed and I can spell her name."
Undeterred she put the card and attendant medal on the fridge.
Later I looked at it. The picture was the very pattern of the female saints. She is whey faced, crowned and simpering. The back informed me that she is the patron saint of "those afflicted with mental, emotional, and nervous disorders." In plainer terms, she is the saint for loonies.
I will get revenge for this-as soon as I can find my old missal. I have plenty of odd holy cards stashed and I plan to make their oddities very prominent in her life.I am trying to remember the lady who guarded her chastity to the death,(generally they had their heads lopped off. Some of the severed heads talked and some didn't)  there are so many of them... but one inspired a society for the chaste. I vividly remember signing up several young lads at university for the societies newsletter.
The gentlemen were not amused.
(But I was)