New Horizon College English Book 3 Unit 5 Text Translation 1
I have never met Mrs. Clark, but after reading her medical records and the report given to me by the last doctor on duty, I know that she will die tonight.
The only light in her room came from a medical device, flashing red, as if warning.
I stood there with a strange smell irritating my nose. I remembered the rotten smell I smelled in the past and closed my eyes.
My mouth has a sour taste coming back from my stomach.
I reached out to turn on the light. The light lit up the whole ward quietly, and I went back to the bed and observed the patient with cold, doctor's eyes.
Mrs Clark is dying.
She lay motionless: her thin body made her head look particularly big; The skin is dark yellow and loosely wrapped in uneven bones that can't even be covered with blankets; Her right arm stretched out horizontally by the bed and was ruthlessly fixed on a board with tape to fix the needle to drip liquid; The left arm straddles the deep chest, and the chest droops with uneven breathing.
I reached out to touch the slender fingers on her chest.
Cold, cold. I quickly moved my hand to her wrist and felt a weak pulse.
Mrs Clark turned her head slightly to me and opened her eyes slightly.
I leaned down and barely heard her weak voice: "water."
I picked up a glass of water from the table, sealed one end of the straw with my finger and dropped a few drops of cold water into her mouth to quench her thirst.
She didn't swallow it hard because she didn't have enough strength.
"More," said the dry voice.
So we repeated it again. This time she finally swallowed some and said softly, "Thank you."
She was too weak to talk, so I started doing what she needed without waiting for her to ask.
I picked her up like a baby and turned her over.
She only wore a light-colored hospital gown. She is small and light, as if she had experienced a severe famine.
I opened the bottle cap of the skin cream and rubbed some on my palm.
In order not to hurt her, I carefully rubbed the skin cream on her yellow skin. Her skin slides loosely on the bones, and the outline of every bone on her back can be clearly felt.
When I put the pillows between her legs, I found them cold, too. It was not until I moved my hand above her knee that I felt that blood supplied the heat of life.
Then, I moved a chair to face her, sat on the bed and held her unsteady hand. I noticed her slender fingers again.
Very elegant. For a moment, I suddenly wondered if she had a family. Then I found that there were no flowers, rainbows and butterflies drawn by children in the ward, and there were no cards.
There is no sign in the room that she is a relative.
She seemed to read my mind and answered me calmly: "Today … I asked … all my family … to go home … I don't want … they … saw …"
She used up her last strength and couldn't talk any more. But I already understand what she did.
I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.
She seems to have read my mind again: "You ... stay ..."
Time seems to have stopped.
In the silence, I felt my pulse quickened, and I heard my breathing begin to drop with her uneven breathing.
We looked at each other, and somehow, we both realized that this was a special moment between two lives.
Her slender fingers caught my hand easily, and I nodded slowly with a smile.
Without any words, I felt her gratitude in her yellow eyes, and she closed her eyes slowly.
I don't know how long it took, but she opened her eyes again, only this time there was no reaction in her eyes, only an empty stare.
Without warning, her weak breathing stopped. Soon, the weak pulse disappeared.
A tear flowed from her left eye, slid down her cheek and landed on the pillow.
I began to cry softly.
I have a strong affection for this stranger who walked in and out of my life soon.
Her pain is over, but so is her life.
I still hold her hand, and gradually, I realize that I am not afraid of this emotional battle. This is actually a special honor she gave me, and I am willing to do it again.
Mrs. Clark didn't let her family witness this episode of life that they might not be able to face, but she shared it with me.
She didn't want her family to watch her die, but she didn't want to leave alone.
No one should leave alone. I'm glad to be with her.
Two days later, I read about Mrs. Clark in the newspaper.
It turns out that she is the mother of seven children, 18 children's grandmother, church activist, leader of community volunteer association, concert pianist and piano teacher who has been teaching for more than 30 years.
Yes, her fingers are so slender and elegant.