母親是一位臨終關懷醫生

R ecently， I met with a friend who is both a physician and a mother. She told me she was worried she wasn’t doing a “good enough” job being a parent and was missing out on her children’s lives.

I’ve learned from other physicians that they also believe the demands of their profession will somehow 1）adversely affect their child’s upbringing.

I tell my colleagues not to worry， and that one day their child will thank them for their life as a doctor’s child.

I can say this because I was three when my mother went to medical school.

Growing up as the daughter of a 2）palliative-care physician wasn’t easy： I came to understand that the sound of the hospital 3）pager， day or night， meant my mother’s absence， having to share her with other people， and being exposed to human suffering and death were just part of my life. Nonetheless， being the child of a physician had a positive effect on my life. I learned and experienced many things because my mother became a doctor when she did. Here are four of them.

1） I learned how others experience life. Through my mother’s work I was exposed to a variety of people， lifestyles， cultures and circumstances. I met patients who were dying and in pain， and their families. Many were happy， but some were angry or upset， or suffering from addictions， mental illness， poverty or isolation. I went along on home visits to people who were poor and dying alone.

I learned that these experiences， while sad， are realities for others. That many people don’t live the same secure life I do， and that life， while good， can be hard.

2） I learned that status doesn’t define the person. I was often in situations where I had to interact with other adults—health-care professionals， patients and their families. As a child I hadn’t yet formed socially constructed biases， so I lacked the social 4）inhibitions many adults have. Prominent physicians and CEOs didn’t 5）intimidate me because their status had little or no meaning to me.

I only cared if someone was kind to me， or wanted to be my friend. I saw that good， kind people who contribute to their community come from all walks of life.

3） I learned that gender wasn’t a limit. I met women who held senior professional positions and were also mothers， spouses， members of their community and world travellers. They were strong， confident， intelligent， beautiful， kind women who worked hard for the life they had.

Once I saw a young woman in hospital scrubs who looked like my Barbie doll tearing down the halls of the hospital. When I asked my mother who she was， she told me she was a general surgeon—a very good one. I was impressed. I saw what possibilities existed for me， and that one day I could be like the beautiful surgeon if I was willing to work for it. It gave me the confidence to choose the career I wanted， and as a result I completed a masters degree in 6）bioethics and health law and am pursuing a career as an 7）ethicist.

4） I learned about kindness and generosity. I have been amazed by the level of compassion and humanity that emerges in the most difficult of times. I have seen dying patients hold on to life or endure extraordinary measures because their family was not ready to say goodbye. I’ve seen health-care staff go the extra mile for patients. And I’ve been given gifts by families even as they were losing someone they loved. One particular story comes to mind.

I was seven when my mother was paged in the middle of the night to care for a dying man. My dad was away on business， so my mother brought me with her. When we arrived at the patient’s home， my mother attended to him and the family sat me on the living room couch with a blanket and some Archie comics.

I must have fallen asleep. When I awoke the family was in tears； their loved one had died.

After my mother had completed the death certificate and spoken with the family， she collected me to go home. As she was carrying me out to the car， one of the children who had just lost their father ran up to us with a stack of Archie comics. “These are for your daughter，” she said. “I noticed that she enjoyed reading them. I’d like her to have them.”

If I could have my childhood over again， I wouldn’t change much.

Sure， there were times when I wanted to throw my mother’s pager out the window， or wished that she could have attended school events. But even as a child I knew that what I was sacrificing， and what she was sacrificing， were more than worth it for the life that I got to lead. My mother’s work as a palliative-care physician provided me with experiences that enriched my life， teaching me valuable lessons， skills and the knowledge of profound kindness， compassion and generosity.

So， to anyone who is concerned about balancing a career in medicine with raising children， I offer you my reassurance. While there will be tough times （and there will be！）， one day your child will thank you for the experiences， and the life， they’ve had as a result of your career. I promise.

最近，我跟一位朋友見面聊天，她是一位醫生，同時也是一位母親。她告訴我她擔心自己不“勝任”母親這份工作，也沒能參與孩子們的生活。

我聽說其他醫生也認為他們的職業需求會對他們孩子的成長或多或少帶來不好的影響。

我告訴同事們不要擔心，他們的孩子會在將來的某一天感激那段作為醫生孩子的生活。

我這樣說是因為我母親在醫學院上學時，我才三歲。

作為一名臨終關懷醫生的女兒，成長并不是一件簡單的事情：我漸漸明白醫院傳呼機的聲音意味著母親要離開，不分晝夜，必須跟其他人分享她的關注，被迫面對人類的苦難和死亡，這些都只是我生活的一部分。盡管如此，作為一名醫生的孩子，這對我的人生有著積極的影響。由于我的母親當上了一名醫生，我學習并體會到許多事情，以下是其中的四個方面。

（1）我了解到其他人的人生經歷。通過我母親的工作，我接觸了很多不同的人、生活方式、文化和境況。我見過垂死并忍受著疼痛的病人以及他們的家人。大多數人是快樂的，但也有些人是惱怒或傷心的，或因毒癮、精神病、貧窮、孤獨而痛苦不堪。我隨著母親到那些貧窮和沒人陪伴的病人家里探看。

我知道這些經歷雖然傷感卻是別人的真實生活。很多人沒有像我一樣過著安穩的生活，而那樣的生活雖好但也許會很艱難。

（2）我明白到地位并不能衡量一個人。我常常要跟其他成年人打交道——醫護人員、病人及其家人。……