Faux Pas

"Mr. Jonas, it's time to get out of bed and walk in the hall."
She was a perky little 17-year old nursing student: very young, very bright, and very pretty. Mr. Jonas didn't seem to realize she was speaking to him.
"Hey, Mr. Jonas!" one of the other men in the ward called. "Get up and start walking now." The three other male patients in the room looked his way with big smiles across their faces.
Cindi was used to these kinds of looks and leers. She was so pretty that the old men in the hospital couldn't refrain from commenting, or glancing at her admiringly.
You couldn't tell that anything was wrong with Mr. Jonas just by looking at him.
Cindi pulled the curtain around his bed. "Maybe I should check your dressing before you come with me," she said, trying to sound as old and authoritarian as she could. Pulling up his gown, she looked at the dressing over his newly acquired penile implant. She was mortified, but too cheerful and fast-moving to let him know.
"Good!" she said, leaning over his bed, inspecting the dressing. "Now, let's get going." She grinned at her patient, who seemed a bit withdrawn.
He ambled up out of bed and linked arms with her. As they left the room, the teasing voices of the other men could be heard. "Way to go, Mr. Jonas!" "Hey, Mr. Jonas, nice job!"

Cindi was his student nurse for two days. She made sure he was well fed, his sheets were changed, and he was bathed. She also walked up and down the hall with him whenever she ran out of things to do. He was always very cordial but awkwardly so. Not much of a conversationalist. Mr. Jonas just seemed to be trying to say and do the things she requested. She noticed that his roomates ribbed him constantly and that he didn't say anything back to them. It was a bit odd, but she felt sure it was because of her age and looks.

After she checked his bandage for the last time, she explained that she wouldn't be back the next day. It was her last day in that particular hospital unit and she was going to be moving to a new practice site. He wished her well and she said goodbye.

That day during post-conference, Mrs. Beltz asked if anyone wanted to discuss their patient's condition and the treatments that had been required. No one spoke up.
"Cindi," she said, "Why don't you share your patient's history and condition with us?"
"Ok." Cindi began. "Mr. Jonas is a 67 year-old man status post penile implant. He is--"
"What did you say his name was?" Mrs. Beltz asked.
"Mr. Jonas."
Mrs. Beltz closed her eyes momentarily as if in pain. "And did you call him Mr. Jonas for both days you took care of him?"
"Well, yes. I always call patients Mr., Mrs., and Miss." Cindi paused. "Why do you ask?"
"His name is Mr. Smith. He has a Jonas penile prosthesis."
Cindi looked confused.
Mrs. Beltz spelled it out: "His name is not Mr. Jonas."
That explained everything. Cindi was so embarrassed that she couldn't bring herself to go back and apologize to her patient. But it did explain why the other men were so interested in everything she did for him.
Sometimes the best we can do isn't quite good enough.
Poor Mr. Jonas...