雙語·當呼吸化為空氣 把這個好消息告訴產(chǎn)婦的家人

我走到等候室，把這個好消息告訴產(chǎn)婦的家人。聚集在那兒的一大家子，十幾口人，全都歡呼雀躍，一陣紛亂的握手和互相擁抱。我就像個偉大的先知，從山頂帶回新契約的歡樂消息！生產(chǎn)帶來的一切骯臟與混亂消失了。站在這里的我，剛剛抱過這個家庭的最新成員。她是這個男人的侄女，那個女孩的表妹。
I walked out to the waiting room to inform the extended family of the happy news. The dozen or so family members gathered there leapt up to celebrate, a riot of handshakes and hugs. I was a prophet returning from the mountaintop with news of a joyous new covenant!All the messiness of the birth disappeared; here I had just been holding the newest member of this family, this man’s niece, this girl’s cousin.

回到產(chǎn)房，我興高采烈地跑到梅麗莎身邊。
Returning to the ward, ebullient, I ran into Melissa.

“嘿，昨晚的雙胞胎怎么樣了，你知道嗎？”我問。
“Hey, do you know how last night’s twins are doing?” I asked.

她的臉色瞬間黯淡下來。昨天下午A寶寶去世了，B寶寶堅持了不到二十四小時，在我接生剛才那個寶寶的時候也走了。那一刻我滿腦子都是塞繆爾·貝克特的隱喻，正與這對走到生命盡頭的雙胞胎相合：“有一天我們誕生，有一天我們死去，同樣的一天，同樣的一秒鐘……他們讓新的生命誕生在墳墓上，光明只閃現(xiàn)了一剎那，跟著又是黑夜。”我現(xiàn)在就站在“掘墓人”的旁邊，他的工具是醫(yī)用的鉗子。這些生命究竟有什么意義呢？
She darkened. Baby A died yesterday afternoon; Baby B managed to live not quite twenty-four hours, then passed away around the time I was delivering the new baby. In that moment, I could only think of Samuel Beckett, the metaphors that, in those twins, reached their terminal limit: “One day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second. . . Birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it’s night once more.” I had stood next to “the grave digger” with his “forceps.” What had these lives amounted to?

“這你就接受不了了？”她說，“很多母親明知胎死腹中，還是要經(jīng)歷分娩和生產(chǎn)。你想象得到嗎？這些人至少還有過希望?！?br>“You think that’s bad?” she continued. “Most mothers with stillborns still have to go through labor and deliver. Can you imagine? At least these guys had a chance.”

就像火柴閃動微光，卻沒有燃燒起來。543號病房里，母親在飲泣，父親眼眶通紅，淚水默默滑落：這真是和那邊的歡樂形成鮮明對比；出乎意料的死亡，是那么不公平，令人無法忍受……你能去勸他們什么呢？你能說出什么安慰的話呢？
A match flickers but does not light. The mother’s wailing in room 543, the searing red rims of the father’s lower eyelids, tears silently streaking his face: this flip side of joy, the unbearable, unjust, unexpected presence of death. . . What possible sense could be made, what words were there for comfort?

“緊急剖腹產(chǎn)是正確的選擇嗎？”我問。
“Was it the right choice, to do an emergency C-section?” I asked.

“絕對是，”她說，“是他們唯一的機會。”
“No question,” she said. “It was the only shot they had.”

“如果不做，有什么后果？”
“What happens if you don’t?”

“他們會死。胎心追蹤的圖表顯示，胎兒正遭遇酸血癥。不知道是臍帶出了什么問題，還是其他地方出現(xiàn)了很糟糕的情況?！?br>“Probably, they die. Abnormal fetal heart tracings show when the fetal blood is turning acidemic; the cord is compromised somehow, or something else seriously bad is happening.”

“但你怎么知道追蹤圖表的糟糕程度呢？出生太早或者生得太晚，哪個更糟糕？”
“But how do you know when the tracing looks bad enough? Which is worse, being born too early or waiting too long to deliver?”

“要自己判斷了?！?br>“Judgment call.”

這個判斷也太難了。我這小半輩子，最艱難的決定，也就是三明治到底要法式蘸醬還是魯賓蘸醬。而這樣的判斷，我什么時候才能做，又怎么可能安心做呢？醫(yī)學實踐方面，我還有很多東西要學。但在生與死懸而未決之時，單憑這些知識夠嗎？光靠腦子聰明顯然行不通，道義上也需要明確的思考。不知何故，我必須堅信，在這個過程中，我收獲的不僅僅是知識，還有智慧。畢竟，一天前我剛剛邁入醫(yī)院大門時，生與死還不過是抽象的概念而已?，F(xiàn)在，我已經(jīng)近距離地直面二者。也許貝克特筆下的波卓說得對，生命就是轉瞬即逝，太短暫，容不得多想。但我必須集中精力去扮演好迫在眉睫的角色，一心一意投入到死亡的全過程中。我就是拿著鉗子的掘墓人。
What a call to make. In my life, had I ever made a decision harder than choosing between a French dip and a Reuben? How could I ever learn to make, and live with, such judgment calls? I still had a lot of practical medicine to learn, but would knowledge alone be enough, with life and death hanging in the balance? Surely intelligence wasn’t enough; moral clarity was needed as well. Somehow, I had to believe, I would gain not only knowledge but wisdom, too. After all, when I had walked into the hospital just one day before, birth and death had been merely abstract concepts. Now I had seen them both up close. Maybe Beckett’s Pozzo is right. Maybe life is merely an “instant,” too brief to consider. But my focus would have to be on my imminent role, intimately involved with the when and how of death—the grave digger with the forceps.