To tell the truth, maybe society couldn’t handle truth all the time

Not sure why we think somebody who is dying has figured out the answers. But Randy Pausch, a professor at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, seems to have cut out the excess garbage.

He gave his final lecture in September, a month after learning he is dying of pancreatic cancer. His 76-minute lecture has become one of those Internet phenomena, touching hearts and minds of millions.

Now it’s expanded into a book called “The Last Lecture.” In a recent Wall Street Journal profile by his co-author, Jeffrey Zaslow, one quote was deceptively simple.

Pausch jotted down advice for his three children ages 6, 3 and 1: “If I could only give three words of advice, they would be, ‘Tell the truth.’ If I got three more words, I’d add, ‘All the time.'”

Sure, it’s the shorter, modern version of “Thou shalt not lie.” Anyone who lives their life by telling the truth probably wouldn’t have problems with those other commandments involving stuff like murder and adultery. Perhaps fresh versions of old truths make us look at things more clearly.

Rausch’s pancreatic cancer attacks his liver. So does hepatitis.

What if everyone involved in the hepatitis health crisis told the truth instead of lawyering up?

Bonnie Branson is waiting for someone to tell the truth.

A former nurse, she is the seventh patient confirmed to have contracted acute hepatitis C at the now closed Endoscopy Center of Southern Nevada. Bonnie had her colonoscopy at the Endoscopy Center on June 7, 2005. On Aug. 22, 2005, a regular blood test showed she had acute hepatitis C. Since she’d had regular blood tests before that didn’t shown the virus, health officials found it relatively easy to confirm the source of her hepatitis.

Bonnie would like the nurse who administered her anesthetic before her colonoscopy to tell the truth. That nurse had to know that re-inserting a needle into a bag of contaminated anesthesia was dangerous. Bonnie would like to know why the nurse did it, knowing of the dangers.

So far, the nurse anesthetist’s reason why: His bosses told him to.

Why didn’t he say no?

Why didn’t he report the unsafe practice?

Why didn’t nurses who had left the clinic tell anybody?

Eight acute hepatitis C cases have been confirmed from two centers owned by Dr. Dipak Desai. Bonnie, 65, said she’s more upset with the nurse anesthetist who administered the anesthesia than she is with Desai.

“The employees need to tell the truth, tell the truth to somebody,” said her husband, Carl.

“If they tell the truth, there might be some forgiveness,” Bonnie added.

After her diagnosis three years ago, Bonnie, 65, chose an aggressive treatment to prevent liver failure. For a year, her life centered around shots and pills. She was weak, dropped to 95 pounds. Her hair started falling out and in the mornings looked like a hairball on her pillow.

Life was getting back to normal when health officials announced on Feb. 27 that 40,000 people were being notified they may have been exposed to hepatitis and should be tested.

Now she’s reliving it again, although Thursday she looked happy and healthy. But still wondering why those involved don’t just tell the truth.

Of course, newspapers and lawyers would go out of business if people told the unvarnished truth and didn’t quibble over what constitutes “truth.”

Our court system would collapse if the guilty confessed instead of looking for the legal loophole, leaving only the truly innocent to fight for the truth.

Newspapers wouldn’t have to use nearly as much space on political stories, if one side actually was true and both sides admitted it, instead of the never-ending sport of twisting the truth.

Political ads on TV would decrease in numbers if they were telling the actual truth.

Nightclubs would close if people hustling each other told the truth.

Everyone should adopt Professor Pausch’s advice: “Tell the truth. All the time.”

Memorial Day is the perfect day to tell the truth. But then there’s the real Memorial Day, and there’s the one celebrated today for the convenience of a three-day weekend. And that’s the truth.

Jane Ann Morrison’s column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0275.