The only foolish question is the one that isn't asked

The technician handed me the chart of an emergency patient that just walked in. “He was hit with a tree branch.”  

Before my eyes flashed the words I knew I would be using:

Árbol

Le duele

Le golpeó

¿cuándo le pasó?

But then I thought to myself, how do you say ‘branch’?  Not knowing the word for ‘branch’ in Spanish would not prevent me from talking to the patient, getting the history, examining him and diagnosing him, but I realized that I never knew the word and wanted to find out how to say it in Spanish.

After I took his chart, I quickly asked a secretary at the front desk, “I know ‘árbol’ is tree in Spanish, but how do you say ‘branch’?  She thought for a second or two, then answered, “Just say ‘palo’, he’ll know what you mean.” 

So I called the patient in:

Me: Señor, la enfermera me dijo lo que pasó—¿le golpeó un palo del árbol?

Patient: Sí.

Me: ¿Cuándo le pasó?

Patient: Esta mañana. Me duele el ojo aquí (pointing to corner of eye)

Me: ¿Trató Ud. usar lágrimas artificiales u otro medicamento?

Patient: No.

Me: OK. Voy a poner anestesia dentro del ojo...vamos a ver...

And so the exam ensued.  It made me smile when the patient  understood the word ‘palo’.   I find it amazing that in language learning,  a word which to me means nothing more than letters on a page or a sound when spoken, has a familiar and known meaning to another.   

Incidentally, I looked up ‘branch’ after the visit.  It’s ‘rama’. 

In this next encounter, neither the patient nor myself knew the correct word, but we deduced the meaning based on symptoms and description alone--

Me: ¿Cómo está Ud.?

Patient: Bien, gracias.

Me: Siéntese allí, por favor.  ¿Tiene algunos problemas quiere decirme?

Patient:  No puedo leer bien con mis lentes. Tengo que esforzar cuando quiero leer letras pequeñas.

Me: Vamos a ver....

(some minutes later)

Me: Bueno,  tiene ojos sanos. No tiene glaucoma, una enfermedad del nervio óptico. No tiene problemas macular, y las arterias son sanas.  Pero recuerda Ud, la última visita estábamos hablando de sus cataratas en cada ojo. Ahora un año más tarde, son más densas. Debemos cambiar sus lentes.

Patient: Está bien, pero, una pregunta más, Doctora. Tengo, no sé qué es, en el músculo, algo aquí en el parpado del ojo (pointing to the upper lid of her left eye).  Un movimiento...

(She didn’t know the word for it, and I didn’t know how to say it in Spanish, but I knew based on her description and where she was pointing what she was talking about).

Me: Oh, es como, en íngles se llama un “twitch”.

Patient: ¡Sí! ¿Qué es?

Me: Bueno, tiene razón, hay un músculo ahí, alrededor el ojo, y como los otros músculos en el cuerpo, pueden tener espasmos.  Cuando se siente este “twitch”—el movimiento—entonces, debes frotarlo. En tiempo, la sensación desaparece.

Patient: Bueno. Gracias.

English: twitch = Español: tic

The bottom line is, in language learning, your vocabulary will never expand unless you make it expand. And, in order to learn, you must lower your pride and ASK QUESTIONS! When I come across a word or phrase I don't know in Spanish, I always try to ask my technicians for their input.  They bring to the office a rich knowledge of Cuban, Puerto Rican and Mexican vocabulary and dialect. I even ask the patient and his/her family (see The Spanish Teacher).  This dynamic learning helps me better remember new words as I come across them.  When you don't know, you must ask! What better way to grow in a language and enrich your patient experiences!