Today was a combination of slow and eventful. There were only a few patients yet the morning still seemed crowded. The hospital rooms comfortably fit the patient, doctor, and perhaps the occasional witness or relative. But when you try and squeeze, 3 med students, resident physician, physician, patient, and moi; you get a squished mess. Move just a bit and your knee was hitting the biohazard bin.
Regardless, we all watched and gained experience nonetheless.
The case I found most interesting today didn't involve any rare, risky procedure or disease. Rather, I was intrigued by the language barrier--as I always am. This particular patient said she spoke Portuguese. So I mumbled one of the few phrases I knew (however irrelevant) "fala portuges?" Her eyes lit up as if there was a possible chance of ending this horrible language barrier. They dimmed again once I informed her that I only spoke "un poquinho" even gesturing with my fingers how little I spoke.
"Parlez vous-Français?" I asked.
"Oui", this time her whole face lit up. French was her first language, and she proceeded to explain her medical complaint to me in French.
"Je parle un peu", again gesturing with my fingers how little.
Another failed attempt at breaking the language gap.
We resorted to the hospital's telephone interpreter who communicated it all to the patient.
Still, I wouldn't give up. "Hablas espanol?"
"Si", she replied, still smiling at my failed attempts to communicate with her.
Finally a language I could almost speak. In a tangled mix of aujourd'hui, você , and caminar I was able to tell her just what she needed to know, medications, exercise, and all.
Something about mixing the three languages in such a beautifully tangled web affirmed my passion for languages and desire to become fluent in all three. So, here I am, one week later still praying for some opportunity to spend 3 months in France and 3 months in South America and return a walking translator.
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