The bustle of the hospital was a welcome distraction as I opened my new patient's chart and headed for her room. My son, Eric, had just brought home a disappointing report card, and my daughter, Shannon, and I had argued again about her getting a driver's license. For the next eight hours I wanted to throw myself into helping people who I knew had much more to worry about than I did.
Rebekah was only 32, admitted for chemotherapy after breast-cancer surgery, When I entered her room it took me a moment to spot her amid the bouncing forms of three giggling little girls.
I told Rebekah I would be her nurse and she introduced her husband, Warren; six-year-old Ruthie; four-year-old Hannah; and two-year-old Molly. Warren coaxed the girls away from their mother with a promise of ice cream and assured Rebekah they would return the next day.
As I rubbed alcohol on her arm to prepare it for the intravenous line, Rebekah laughed nervously. "I have to tell you I'm terrified of needles." "It'll be over before you know it," I said. "I'll give you a count of three."
Rebekah shut her eyes tightly and murmured a prayer until it was over. Then she smiled and squeezed my hand. "Before you go, could you get my Bible from the table?" I handed her the worn book. "Do you have a favorite Bible verse?" she asked. "Jesus wept. John 11: 35." "Such a sad one," she said. "Why?"
"It makes me feel closer to Jesus, knowing he also experienced human sorrow."
Rebekah nodded thoughtfully and started flipping through her Bible as I shut the door quietly behind me.
During the following months I watched Rebekah struggle with the ravages of chemotherapy. Her hospital stays became frequent and she worried about her children. Meanwhile I continued to contend with raising my own kids. They always seemed either out or holed up in their rooms. I missed the days when they were as attached to me as Rebekah's little girls were to her.
One day when I entered her room, I found her talking into a tape recorder. She picked up a yellow legal pad and held it out to me. "I'm making a tape for my daughters, " she said.
I read the list on her pad: starting school, confirmation, turning 16, first date, graduation. While I worried how to help her deal with death, she was planning for her children's future.
I often wondered what I would say in her place. My kids joked that I was like an FBI agent, with my constant questions about where they'd been and who they'd been with. Where, I thought, are my words of encouragement and love?
For a time it had seemed Rebekah's chemotherapy was working. Then doctors discovered another malignant lump. Two months later, a chest X-ray revealed the cancer had spread to her lungs. It was terminal. Help me to help her through this, I prayed.
She usually waited until the early hours of the morning to record the tapes so she could be free from interruptions. She filled them with family stories and advice,trying to cram a lifetime of love into a few precious hours. Finally, every item in her notes had been checked off and she entrusted the tapes to her husband.
It was three o'clock one afternoon when I got an urgent call from the hospital. Rebekah wanted me to come immediately with a blank tape. What topic has she forgotten? I wondered.
She was flushed and breathing hard when I entered her room. I slipped the tape into the recorder and held the microphone to her lips. "Ruthie, Hannah, Molly?this is the most important tape." She held my hand and closed her eyes. "Someday your daddy will bring home a new mommy. Please make her feel special. Show her how to take care of you. Ruthie, honey, help her get your Brownie uniform ready each Tuesday. Hannah, tell her you don't want meat sauce on your spaghetti. She won't know you like it separate. Molly, don't get mad if there's no apple juice. Drink something else. It's okay to be sad, sweeties. Jesus cried too. He knows about sadness and will help you to be happy again. Remember, I'll always love you.
I shut off the recorder and Rebekah sighed deeply. "Thank you, Nan," she said with a weak smile. "You'll give this one to them, won't you?" she murmured as she slid into sleep.
A time would come when the tape would be played for Rebekah's children, but right then, after I smoothed Rebekah's blanket, I got in my car and hurried home. I thought of how my Shannon also liked her sauce on the side and suddenly that quirk, which had annoyed me so many times, seemed to make her so much more precious. That night the kids didn't go out; they sat with me long after the spaghetti sauce had dried onto the dishes. And we talked ,without interrogations, without complaints,late into the night.
医院里人来人往。我一边打开一位新病人的检查记录表一边向她的病房走去,周围的喧嚷嘈杂分散了我的注意力,这不但没使我感到不快,反而令我很高兴。因为我的儿子伊瑞克刚刚拿回家的成绩单令我失望透顶,而我的女儿珊娜则又一次为她考驾照的事情与我发生了不小的争执。我希望在接下来的八小时内把自己完全投入到帮助那些比我更忧虑更需要别人关心的病人的工作中去。
我正要去看视的新病人名叫瑞贝克,现年只有32岁,刚刚做过乳腺癌切除手术,正在化疗期间。我走进她的病房,看到她正被三个咯咯笑着的活泼快乐的小女孩包围着。
我告诉瑞贝克以后她将由我来护理,然后她向我介绍了她的丈夫沃恩,六岁的女儿鲁丝、四岁的汉娜和两岁的莫丽。沃恩耐心地哄着女儿们,并且答应每人一客冰淇淋才把她们带离妈*的身边,他答应瑞贝克明天还会带她们来看她。
当我用酒精为她擦拭胳膊,准备静脉注射的时候,瑞贝克紧张地大笑着说,“我必须得告诉你我害怕打针。”“在你还没意识到之前就会打好的,”我说。“我可以保证你数不到三我就打完了。”
瑞贝克紧紧地闭上双眼,嘴里喃喃的念着祈祷词。针打完后,她微笑着捏了捏我的手。“你走之前,可以把放在桌子上的那本圣经拿给我吗?”我把那本破旧的圣经递给她。“你有什么最喜欢的圣经信条吗?”她问。“耶酥哭了。它在约翰福音的第11章第35节。”“这么悲伤,为什么?”她说。
“它使我感到耶酥离我们很近,因为它让我知道他也体验到了人类的痛苦。”
瑞贝克深思的点了点头,开始翻看那本圣经,我走出病房,轻轻地将门掩上。
在以后的几个月里,我亲眼目睹瑞贝克勇敢地与化疗带给她的灾难作斗争。她住院治疗的次数越来越多,并担忧着自己的孩子们。与此同时,我继续供养自己的孩子们,并对此感到很满足。但我发现他们似乎除了出门之外就是待在自己的房间里。我怀念那些他们依恋我的日子,那时他们就象瑞贝克的小女儿们依恋她们的妈妈一样依恋我。
曾经有一个时期,化疗似乎对瑞贝克产生了作用。但就在那时,医生们发现了她身体里的另一个恶性肿瘤。两个月之后为她做的X光胸透视清楚地表明癌细胞已经扩散到了肺部。医生诊断为癌症晚期。我祈求上帝赐予我力量,让我帮助她度过这个艰难的时期。
一天,我走进她的病房,发现她正在对着录音机录音。她拿起一本黄色的信签簿递给我。“我正在为女儿们录音,”她说。
我看着信签簿上列出的条目:开始上学、举行天主教的坚信礼仪式、满16岁、第一次约会、毕业。当我担心怎样帮助她面对死神的时候她已经在为女儿们的将来作安排了。
她通常都是在清晨的几个小时里录音,因为只有在这个时候,她才能不受干扰。她录进了一些家庭故事和对未来生活的建议,想把自己对家庭对丈夫对孩子们的全部热爱和她最后的话语一起录进这宝贵的几个小时里,她把笔录的每个条目都仔细地检查过之后,才把磁带交给丈夫保管。
我常常猜想如果我处在她的位置我会说些什么。我的孩子们常常开玩笑似地说我就象是美国联邦调查局的侦探,因为我常常要问他们诸如他们到哪里去了和他们都和谁在一起之类的问题。我在心里反省着,我何曾向他们说过一句鼓励和表示爱他们的话呢?
一天下午三点左右,我接到从医院打来的紧急电话。瑞贝克希望我立即带一盘空磁带到她的病房去。她会遗漏什么内容呢?我感到很疑惑。
我走进她的病房,看见她脸现红晕,呼吸艰难。我把空磁带放进录音机,把麦克风送到她的唇边。“鲁丝,莫丽,是你们吗?这是最重要的一盘磁带。”她握着我的手,闭上眼睛。“也许有一天,你们的爸爸会带一个新妈妈回家。你们要对她亲密些。告诉她该如何照顾你们。鲁丝亲爱的,在每个星期二,你要帮她把你的童子军制服准备好。汉娜,告诉她你吃意大利细面条的时候不喜欢放肉酱。如果你不告诉她,她怎么会知道你喜欢分开吃呢?莫丽,如果没有苹果汁,你也不要发脾气。喝点别的吧。悲伤并没什么可怕,亲爱的孩子们。耶酥也哭过。他知道人类的悲伤,他会帮助你们重新快乐起来的。记住,我永远爱你们。”
我关掉录音机,瑞贝克深深地叹了口气。“谢谢你,楠,”她说这话的时候脸上带着虚弱的微笑。“你愿意替我把这个交给她们,对吗?”她喃喃低语着陷入了沉睡之中。
把这盘磁带放给瑞贝克的孩子们听的时间总有一天会到来的,但在那时,在我将瑞贝克的毯子抚平后,我急忙驱车向家里驶去。我想起我的珊娜也喜欢把肉酱放在一边和面条分开来吃,这在以前总使我很生气,但是现在她的这个怪癖突然使我觉得她更可爱了。那天晚上孩子们没有出去;我们的晚饭是加肉酱的意大利细面条,他们吃完饭后和我一起坐了很长时间,吃剩的面条在盘子上都干了,他们还恋恋不舍地围着我。我们交谈着,没有审问,没有抱怨,直到夜深人静。
(责任编辑:sammy)