I was holding her hand when the man in the white coat came in. 1 both sets of X-rays, he said seriously: Her lungs were filling up with fluid(液体). This meant that 2 I would need to consult with specialists, and stop whatever was 3 into my mother's lungs.
4, this doctor seemed to have another plan. He began speaking to me about “the quality of life.” He gave me a list of my mother's 5 and then concluded that they added up to the 6 of her life. I had heard the phrase “We can make her 7” too many times. Now I was more 8 than hurt when doctors wanted to kill my mother.
My mother couldn't walk, talk or swallow after her stroke, but nursing her was not 9. Whenever I asked her if her diseases were too hard on her, she just 10 her head. She was conveying to me her love and understanding beyond 11. And not just to me.
A young nurse stopped me just before the doctor appeared: “You know, I 12 my new job to your mother: She 13 me to learn to drive, so I would be not 14 buses and I could get to the hospital to work.”
So, I couldn't help questioning the doctor's 15 of quality of life. How did he arrive at the 16 that my mother should die? Was he making a(n) 17 calculation, that to keep a bedridden(卧床不起的) person alive was costly? He certainly did not “calculate” her endless love, the way it 18 everyone who came in contact with her. If human life is 19 to cost-benefit analyses, all forms of caring for any reason other than self-interest will be 20. Can we do better?
