03.14.02 |
"O, be some other name!
What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title."
- Shakespeare, "Romeo & Juliet"
Yes, indeed. I ask you, "What's in a name?"
Well, it appears that there is a great deal more to my simple four letter moniker than a method to call me to dinner.
I am Jann.
It is pronounced in English just as it looks ... like "Jan". But spelled with two nn's. Swedish. Blame my parents.
Why is that so confusing to so many?
In the last few weeks, my simple name has been converted to: Joanne
• Jean
• John
• Jenn
• Janna
• Juan
• Jess
• Joan
• Jane
Arrrrgh!
While spending nearly three weeks in the hospital, every version of my name was used on me by nurses, lab techs, respiratory techs, radiology, and so on.
Perhaps the most irritating misuse of my name occurred when unsuspecting medical personnel would walk into my room and ask, "Mrs. Johnson?"
Since I was in a private room and there was no chance they were referring to a roommate, I would simply answer in my full oxygen mask impaired voice, "No" and feign disinterest.
Of course they would persist:
"Aren't you um, er, Jane ... er, Joan ... um, Mrs. Johnson?"
I would patiently remove the oxygen mask, slide it down below my chin, and in my best innocent voice (though horribly hoarse due to previous intubation tubes), I would respond, "If you are looking for Mrs. Johnson ... she went home. My mother will return in the morning."
I wish that I had a camera to document the various stages of bewildered expressions on their faces until they "got it".
I could not help but wonder if there was some sort of medical manual somewhere that expressed the notion that if you are a female patient over the age of 40, you are immediately thought to be married?
Why is it though, when it comes to sending me the medical bills ... the name is perfect?
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