译者: 爱尔兰都柏林大学 赖小琪
Having been gynecologist for many years, I have diagnosed a lot of cases. However, an incident that occurred last year still often touches my heart when I think of it now and again.
I remember there was one morning when I just arrived at my office. A young couple came in. The man was tall and looked calm and relaxed, and the woman was slim but had a sense of happiness over her face.
They were hand in hand and talking intimately all the time, making others feel that they were a loving couple. From their appearance and behaviors, it was obvious that they had been well educated.
They got married five years ago and planned to have a child two years ago. But however hard they tried, the woman could not get pregnant. I asked about their physical conditions and dietary before I told the man as well as his wife to have a checkup. After the checkup, they were told to get the result the next day.
The next day, when I was about to go off work, the man came. He first apologized to me for being late due to the reception of his clients. I asked him to sit down and he, after balking a second, sat quietly in the chair with his hands sandwiched by two legs, nervously twisting his fingers.
“Doctor, can we still have children?” He looked at me earnestly.
“The test shows that you are very healthy, but your wife has underdeveloped ovarian and congenital uterine anomaly.” I told him calmly.
“I have no clue about the professional terms you are saying. All I want to know is whether we still have chance to have our child?” The man stood up and looked at me anxiously.
I tried to squeeze a smile to him and said helplessly, “Even though the fast-developing modern medicine has cured a lot of once-incurable diseases, your beloved’s disease was congenital and could hardly be cured. So you have to know that her chance of getting pregnant is very slim.”
Before I finished my words, the man slumped down in the chair, looking very painful in his face.
When I was trying to come up with some comforting words for him, he stood up again and grasped my hand, saying, “Doctor, could you please do me a favor?”
I withdrew my hand instinctively and looked at him with panic.
“Sorry, doctor! I may be a bit excited.” He let go my hand and put his hands into the pocket seemingly searching for cigarettes.
“Doctor, to be honest, my wife and I were classmates in college. Five years ago, she gave up the city where she lived and came here with me. At that time, we were very poor……”
The man kept speaking quietly to me, or to himself.
“Doctor, could you write on the diagnosis that it is my problem that makes us fail to have a child? Please!” The man looked at me eagerly.
I also looked at him with great surprise.
“My wife has been with me for nine years and has dedicated her prime time to me. So I do not want her to feel guilty in the rest of her life……”
The man choked, turning his head around. But I could clearly see his eyes full of tears.
I sank into silence totally. When I wrote “oligospermia” on his checkup form, I felt my eyes were also wet. It was at that moment that I truly interpreted what was love.