A man was brought to the ER dead the other night. He had been in a hotel, with a prostitute. Died in the saddle, as they say, like Nelson Rockefeller and Genghis Khan. Code in ER failed. Patient pronounced dead. End of story.
Except that this story was a little unusual, because the prostitute, instead of abandoning her dead client, had called 911 for him. And actually accompanied him to the hospital.
Now that's professionalism for you.
Or is it? I never did hear the full story, and those present at the time were reluctant to try to elicit it under the circumstances: the man's wife and family came to the ER, too, but I think they missed meeting up with his inamorata.
Was she really a prostitute? Her concern for her client suggests she was something more, perhaps something more like a mistress, or lover. But she seems to have had other clients; her daughter, when contacted, said, "I don't know where she is, she just comes and goes as she pleases." Was she a prostitute who had developed feelings for a steady customer over time, or a lover who took gifts of money, and just happened to also support herself by prostitution?
When money, sex, and love tangle, the nomenclature becomes all messed up.