By 
Hemera | Thinkstock
A man telephoned City Hospital and asked to speak to the charge nurse of the third floor, east wing, as he was inquiring as to the progress of one of the patients on that floor. He explained that he wanted to know if the patient was getting better, doing as expected or getting worse.
A staff nurse answered the phone. “Hello. What is the name of the patient and his room number?”
“He is in bed 1, room 10,” came the reply. “And his name is Albert Brown.”
“Could you hold the line for a moment while I check his records?” the nurse asked. “Ah, yes, Mr. Brown is doing well: blood pressure okay, blood test results appear normal, he’s going to be taken off the heart monitor and if he continues to improve, then Dr. Green is going to send him home tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s super. Amazing. I’m so pleased to hear the news—it really is fantastic, thank you so much.”
“You sound so glad,” replied the nurse. “You must be a close friend or a relative of Mr. Brown.”
The man answered, “Not exactly. I’m Albert Brown in room 10, bed 1. Nobody in here ever tells me anything.”
