Frustration III: Blocked in Translation

I still get frustrated on the ward. I guess it will never go away.

My frustration comes out in some particularly wince-worthy ways at the end of a long day.

The most reliable source of daily wince-fodder is the interaction between myself and my translator. Here’s a scene from the bedside:

Patient: Uga n'da uga n’da. Uga n’da uga n’da.

[pause]

Me: (to Moses, who is looking at the patient) What’d she say?

Moses: (faltering) She didn’t say anything.

Me: Yes she did, she just said something. She just said a whole lot of things!

Moses: (flustered) Yes, but she is saying. . . she is....

Patient: Uga n’da uga---

[I turn to the patient and hold up a finger to silence her.]

Me: (to Moses) Please just translate what the patient says.

Moses: She is saying, there is some important thing for me to translate to you, and this is what it is.

Me: Yeah, okay, what?

Moses: That is what she said to me. She said there is something important for me to tell you.

And then I cut her off just as she was starting to tell it.

Yes, that’s a little embarrassing. A good lesson in trusting your translator. And trying to chill out a little bit.