The doctor speaks
But words go in one ear and out the other.
I cannot comprehend the medical jargon.
The interpreter sits in the corner of the room
Trying to translate the jumble of words
Into something I will understand in my native tongue.
I get some.
But the rest?
I just smile and nod.
Somewhere in the transition from complicated jargon to my native tongue
The words are
Lost in translation
I am confused and scared because I can’t comprehend my care plan.
I wish my daughter was in the room to comfort me and make me feel better.
I wouldn’t just smile and nod. I would be engaged.
She would provide the context an interpreter can’t;
She would help bridge the divide.
Then the words wouldn’t get
Lost in translation.
Now I realize the reality people of my ethnicity and many others face every day.
A cultural divide.
An isolation.
Words fly right over our heads,
A barrier stands between us and the doctors.
Interpreters, not as skilled as they should be, can only help so much
Which creates a problem.
Because I am even more lost, even more confused.
In order to bridge this divide of language and culture,
I propose a resolution.
Bridge the divide.
Professionalize interpretation.
Let family members engage more in the conversation.
Only then will words not get
Lost in translation.