So, I’m assessing a 90ish Chinese woman for weakness and a productive cough for the past 2 days. Her grandson, who called us, is translating and doing an excellent job at it. She is very pleasant, soft spoken and clearly sick with pneumonia. Automatically I’m assuming that we’re going to take her to the hospital, so I ask her grandson (who reminds me of a university professor) to translate my intention and collect her belongings.
Really, my job is simple.
Before my eyes, the very nice, pleasant, smiling, soft spoken little old lady begins to change. Her grandson is now quite nervously translating as she transforms from the former into a very much louder, scolding, wrinkled Asian version of Linda Blair. She wasn’t projectile vomiting but definitely coughing up green shit into the O2 mask. Perplexed, I ask the grandson, “What happened, does she have dementia?” …she’s still shrieking and coughing in the background. He said, “She expects to remain here and get treatment in her bed. She does not want to go to the hospital.” Hmm, I’m thinking she feels strongly about this.
It took about 20 minutes to try to convince her and calm her down, all done though the grandson. So, finally, I get close to her face and tell her that she’s coming to the hospital. She couldn’t understand what I said but she knew what I was saying. She was silent and kept an icy stare for about 30 seconds, then said something to grandson and then something to me with a smile. I looked at her grandson, almost a wreck by now, for translation. He said she would come with us. Cool, great, wonderful but I asked again what she said to me. After telling me that it doesn’t translate easily, I pressed him, as it seemed important. He said, in a flat monotone, “She said she would listen to the fat doctor”.
