I Found Hope Working in Hospice Care 我在临终关怀工作中发现希望

凯特兰·兰热尔/文　贺婷婷/译

In the year between finishing undergrad and beginning grad school， I volunteered with a hospice organization.

在本科畢业和研究生入学之间的那年，我在一个临终关怀组织做义工。

I was only 22 years old and wasnt qualified to do much， but I could be a “friendly visitor” to patients. I could be a companion on the journey toward death and new life—a safe friend without bias， solely present to offer consolation and support.

我那时只有22岁，许多工作还胜任不了，但我可以充当病人的“友好访客”。在他们走向死亡与新生的旅途中，我可以做他们的同伴——一个不带偏见的可靠朋友，出现仅为提供安慰和支持。

When someone is given a prognosis from a doctor that they will live for six months or less due to an illness or medical condition， they are a candidate for hospice care. Hospice is holistic by design—it incorporates a larger network to care for and educate the patient and their family as they look toward death and dying.

如果医生预测某人因某种疾病或身体状况，最多只剩六个月的寿命，那么这个人很可能要接受临终关怀。临终关怀本身就是个整体方案——病人及其家人面对死亡或濒死之际，临终关怀会动用方方面面的力量来照护和指导他们。

While the person who is dying still receives active medical attention from nurses and doctors for their physical bodies， hospice recognizes that we also need care as emotional， social， and spiritual beings. Because of this， hospice teams are also comprised of chaplains， social workers， and volunteer “friendly visitors”.

临终病人的身体依旧会得到护士和医生的积极护理与治疗。与此同时，临终关怀认为我们同样需要情绪、社会、精神意义上的关怀。因此，临终关怀团队成员也包括神职人员、社工、“友好访客”志愿者。

Why did I enter this volunteer work to spend time with people I did not know as they neared death？ When I was in college， two of my great-grandmothers died and I was unable to be with them in their final days because I was separated by the span of states between California and Indiana. I prayed for them and we spoke on the phone， but I ached to see them and spend time with them as they neared the end of their lives.

我为什么会加入这支义工队伍，花时间陪伴我完全不认识的临终病人？我读大学期间，曾祖母和曾外祖母离开人世。因为加利福尼亚州与印第安纳州相隔甚远，我没能在她们最后的日子里陪伴她们。我为她们祷告，也与她们通了电话，但我渴望见见她们，在她们走向生命终点的路上陪伴她们。

Something that brought me comfort was hearing about who cared for them—they called hospice workers their “angels.” Outside of our family， they were loved and cared for by folks in palliative and hospice care. I wanted to be a companion like that for someone elses mother， grandmother， father， or friend.

让我感到欣慰的是听她们讲述照护她们的人——她们称临终关怀工作者是她们的“天使”。除了家人，她们还得到了姑息关怀和临终关怀工作者的关爱与照护。我也希望为别人的母亲、祖母、父亲或朋友提供陪伴。

One thing I learned in journeying with people toward death was the value of sharing their treasured stories. Patients I visited varied from being fully aware of themselves， their stories， and surroundings to being totally nonverbal， but each friend I journeyed with was a unique encounter in some way. Like Dorothy.

陪伴人们走向死亡的道路上，我意识到一件事，那就是分享病人的珍贵故事有其价值。我探访过的病人各不相同：有的清楚知道自己是谁、经历过什么、现在在哪里；有的则完全说不出话。然而，在某种意义上，每次与一位病人朋友相伴都是一场独特的邂逅，比如我与多萝西。

Dorothy was my closest friend while I was a friendly visitor with hospice. She was an 89-year-old woman who grew up in Missouri. She was a teacher， lover of Jeopardy， and independ-ent spirit. Every conversation started with her saying， “So， what do you know？” and ended with her telling me that she loved me. Most of our time was spent with me sitting next to her bed， talking about life.

我担任临终关怀“友好访客”期间，多萝西是我最亲密的朋友。她是一位89岁的老太太，在密苏里州长大。她当过老师，爱看智力竞赛节目《危险边缘》，具有独立精神。我们每次聊天都始自她那句“说说你都知道什么？”而结束时她会说她爱我。我们一起度过的大部分时间里，都是我坐在她床边，与她谈论生命。

One day， I visited her just before lunchtime in the nursing home. Dorothy said she needed to “put her face on”—she asked me if I would put on her lipstick and comb her hair. I was caught off guard as I did not typically take care of her physically. But Dorothy wasnt embarrassed or shy in asking for my help.

一天，我午饭前去疗养院探访多萝西。她说她需要“化妆”，问我能不能帮她涂口红、梳头发。我有些措手不及，因为一般不是由我来护理她的身体，但是多萝西向我求助时并没有显得尴尬或难为情。

Per her instruction， I fetched her lipstick and comb from her bathroom. Standing at her left side， I did my best to apply pink color to her thin lips and brush her hair that had been matted down by laying in bed all day， every day. She looked at me， smiled， and was ready to go.

应她的要求，我从她房间的浴室里拿来了她的口红和梳子。我站在她左边，尽我所能地给她薄薄的嘴唇涂上粉色口红，再梳顺她因日复一日全天躺在床上而缠成团的头发。她看着我笑了笑，准备好吃午饭了。

This simple moment of helping with her comb and lipstick in a nursing home room， getting ready for lunch， became sacred space. It was a moment of remembering that we belong to each other， as Saint Mother Teresa would say. Through Dorothy， I experienced the gift of kinship—the gift of vulnerability that lets us enter into one anothers lives and stories.

在疗养院的房间里帮她梳头发、涂口红，做好吃午饭的准备，这简朴的瞬间成了神圣的时刻。正如圣特蕾莎修女所说，这是用来铭记我们属于彼此的瞬间。通过多萝西，我收获了一份名为亲密关系的礼物——这礼物也是一份脆弱感，能让我们走进彼此的人生和故事。

When youre looking at the end of your life， it becomes important to live and speak with honesty. Depending on where someone is in their journey toward death， the ability to look at yourself and your life can be a freeing experience; it can also prompt fear or defensiveness. For most folks in hospice care， death is a process by which our bodies， minds， and abilities slowly change. In many cases， what was once known as normal is taken away.

如果你面臨生命的终点，诚实地活着、诚实地表达自我就变得格外重要。在走向死亡的路上，掌握审视自己与自己人生的能力可能会是一种释放自我的体验，也可能会触发恐惧或自我防卫心理，视一个人所处的阶段而定。对大多数接受临终关怀的病人来说，死亡是身体、心灵、能力慢慢改变的过程。很多时候，从前的寻常事也变得难以企及。

One man I visited could no longer eat food orally， but only through a tube that entered his body in his abdomen. The first time I was present for his “mealtime，” when a nutrition shake was poured into the tube， I felt uncomfortable—like I was seeing something far too intimate for a near stranger.

我曾探访过一个无法再用嘴吃饭的病人，食物只能通过胃造口管送入他的身体。第一次现场看着他“进食”，就在液体营养物质注入管子的时候，我觉得很不舒服，好像我眼见的场景对与他几乎毫无关系的人来说过于私密。

There is a profound vulnerability in this kind of physical honesty. Usually， we want to shield our imperfections， insecurities， and challenges from others， but dying does not allow for such dishonest protection.

这种身体问题的展露无遗透着深深的脆弱感。通常，我们都想掩盖自身缺陷、心中不安、所遇挑战，不想让他人看到，但是死亡不允许人如此虚伪地自我保护。

My friend did not go to communal mealtime at the nursing home because it was too difficult for him to be able to eat. So he missed socializing there and was instead isolated in his room. Though he was mobile and would pop into the hallway for the newest goings-on， the inability to share a meal with others was a lonely experience. We did not have much in common and our conversation was rarely smooth， but we became odd companions. I was empowered to advocate and care for him because he let me into his life—he shared with me the things he struggled with and what gave him comfort.

我的这位朋友不去疗养院的公共就餐区，因为对他来说在那里吃饭太过困难。于是，他错过了在那里社交的机会，只能独自关在房间里。虽然他行动自如，偶尔也会到走廊看看最近有什么情况，可无法与他人共同进餐让他感到孤独。我们俩没有太多共同之处，聊起天来也难说畅快，但后来我们成了一对不同寻常的伙伴。我能替他表达，也能照护他，因为他让我走进了他的生活——他与我分享自己挣扎之事、感到安慰之物。

Being in need is often a synonym for weakness， but the process of dying reveals something different. Being in need and depending on others allows for intimacy. Being honest about our own needs allows us to know and be known. We come to experience a depth in relationships that is otherwise unimagined by the rush of everyday life that leaves us independent—and closed-off.

需要幫助常常是虚弱的同义词，但是走向死亡的过程却展现了不同的一面。需要帮助、依赖他人就能产生亲密关系。坦白说出自己的需求能让我们了解自己，同时让别人了解我们。我们由此能体会到人际关系的深度——在匆忙的日常生活中无法想象这种深度，只会忙于自顾、陷入封闭。

The process of dying is often messy， full of fearful uncertainty， and a tumultuous road of ups and downs. But it can also be beautiful—filled with sacred and sacrificial love， peace beyond common understanding， and hope. As we ask big questions about how to live meaningful lives， it is also worth meditating on what it looks like to die a dignified and beautiful death.

走向死亡的过程往往是一团糟，尽是可怕的不确定之事，一路乱乱哄哄、起起伏伏。然而，这一路也可以很美——充满神圣的奉献之爱、超乎常人理解的平和，还有希望。围绕如何过有意义的人生，人们会问出各种重大问题，其实怎样美丽并有尊严地死去也值得我们思考。

（译者为“《英语世界》杯”翻译大赛获奖者；单位：广东外语外贸大学南国商学院）