候診室裏的聖誕節
It was unusually quiet in the emergency room on December 25.
I was triage nurse that day. I didn't think there would be any patients, sighing about having to work on Christmas. Just then five bodies showed up at my desk, a pale woman and four small children.
“Are you all sick?” I asked suspiciously.
“Yes,” she said weakly and lowered her head.
But when it came to descriptions of their presenting problems, things got a little vague. Two of the children had headaches, but the headaches weren't accompanied by the normal body language of holding the head or trying to keep it still. Two children had earaches, but only one could tell me which ear was affected. The mother complained of a cough but seemed to work to produce it.
Something was wrong, but I didn't say anything but explained that it might be a little while before a doctor saw her. She responded, “Take your time; it's warm in here.”
On a hunch, I checked the chart after the admitting clerk had finished registering the family. No address—they were homeless. The waiting room was warm.
I looked out at the family huddled by the Christmas tree. The littlest one was pointing at the television and exclaiming something to her mother. The oldest one was looking at an ornament on the Christmas tree.
I went back to the nurses' station and mentioned we had a homeless family in the waiting room. The nurses, grumbling about working Christmas, turned to compassion for a family just trying to get warm on Christmas. The team went into action, much as we do when there's a medical emergency. But this one was a Christmas emergency.
We were all offered a free meal in the hospital cafeteria on Christmas Day, so we claimed that meal and prepared a banquet for our Christmas guests. We needed presents. We put together oranges and apples in a basket. We collected from different departments candies, crayons and other things available that could be presents. As seriously as we met the physical needs of the patients that came to us that day, our team worked to meet the needs, and exceed the expectations, of a family who just wanted to be warm on Christmas Day.
Later, as the family walked to the door to leave, the four-year-old came running back, gave me a hug and whispered, “Thanks for being our angels today.”十二月二十五日，急診室裏異乎尋常地安靜。
我是當天的分診護士。我想不會有什麼病人來的。當我正嘆息着聖誕節還要工作的時候，五個人出現在我的辦公桌前——一個面色蒼白的婦女，帶着四個小孩兒。
我有些懷疑地問：“你們都病了嗎?”
“嗯。”她虛弱地回答道，低下了頭。
但是當他們開始描述現在的病情時，事情就有點讓人摸不着頭腦了。其中兩個孩子頭痛，但是他們的頭痛並沒有伴隨着通常出現的肢體症狀，像抱頭或者試着讓頭保持不動等。還有，兩個孩子說耳朵痛，但只有一個能告訴我是哪隻耳朵痛。孩子的母親訴說她有咳嗽症狀，但咳嗽好像是用力裝出來的。
有點不對頭，但是我也沒說什麼，只是解釋說，過一陣兒醫生纔會來給她檢查。她回答說：“不着急，醫院裏挺暖和的。”
接診員填好這個家庭的登記表後，出於直覺，我查看了一下。上面沒寫地址——他們無家可歸。候診室裏很暖和。
我向外看去，只見這一家人擠在聖誕樹旁，最小的孩子指着電視，正向母親驚呼着什麼，最大的那個正在看聖誕樹上的一件裝飾品。
我回到護士室，講述了候診室裏這無家可歸的一家子的事。原本抱怨聖誕節還要上班的護士們都轉而對在聖誕節只祈求溫暖的這家人感到非常同情。這個團隊馬上展開行動，就好像我們對待醫療緊急情況一樣，只不過這次是“聖誕節急診”。
聖誕節這天，醫院食堂免費給我們提供一頓飯，於是我們都把飯領回來，爲我們的聖誕客人準備了一次宴會。還需要一些禮物，我們就把蘋果和橘子放到一起，裝進籃子，還從各個科室收集了糖果、蠟筆和其他能當作禮物的現成的東西。我們的團隊工作嚴肅，就像滿足當天其他患者的需要一樣，我們盡力滿足這家人只想過一個溫暖聖誕節的願望，並遠遠超乎了他們的期望。
後來，當這家人走到門前要離開的時候，那個四歲的孩子跑回來，給了我一個擁抱，並在我的耳邊悄悄地說：“謝謝你，今天你是我們家的天使。”
