I “met” Dr. Robin Schoenthaler through an online group of physician writers. Schoenthaler has been universally encouraging to our growing community of novice and accomplished writers and offers practical and helpful advice. Her kind of wisdom and support is so needed in both the literary and medical worlds.

This article by Schoenthaler, published in the New England Journal of Medicine, describes her use of Spanish during her medical training in Southern California. Schoenthaler learned much of the language from her patients, notably a “young woman named Julia Gonzalez” who, admitted with acute myeloid leukemia, taught the young Schoenthaler “considerably more than Spanish nouns and verbs.” After several rounds of chemotherapy, Julia improves and is discharged. This, along with Schoenthaler’s progress in Spanish, bolsters the young doctor.

Schoenthaler recalls that in medical school she fell in love with, “of all things, reflexive verbs. I loved the concept of a verb that made the self the objects.” Schoenthaler found that reflexive verbs gave her what seemed to be a “kinder, gentler way of speaking to patients in those early, awkward days of training. It felt so much more graceful to say to a stranger, ‘You can redress yourself’ rather than ‘Put your clothes back on.'” I too remember the awkwardness, in words and in deeds, of being a new physician. So much is foreign; the medical jargon and culture, the intimacy of illness and body each patient entrusts us with.

Schoenthaler finds that trying to discuss a topic as challenging as cancer tests her Spanish language skills. Near the end of medical school she attends a language immersion school in Mexico and her Spanish improves dramatically. When she returns, her patient Julia is readmitted with a grave prognosis. Distraught, she calls her mentor and he advises: “‘Now, you concentrate solely on her comfort.'” The new doctor translates his words into Spanish, “with its reflexive verb: ‘Ahora nos concentramos en su comodidad’ (Now we concentrate ourselves on her comfort). We, ourselves, all of us.”

Schoenthaler makes it their mission, instead of a cure, to provide comfort for Julia in her last days: “I held her hand and rubbed her wrists and used my reflexive verbs. We were both speaking a foreign language.” After Julia dies, Schoenthaler calls Julia’s mother, using the Spanish words she’s learned to convey the worst of all news: “‘Se murio’ — ‘She herself has died.'” The mother’s response needs no translation.

Writing Prompt: When you were first starting to care for patients, what words or phrases seemed most awkward? As a patient, have you had medical providers use phrasing that seemed detached or confusing? If you speak multiple languages, think about the different ways sentences are formed. What gets lost or jumbled in translation? Alternatively, think about a time you had to tell a patient’s loved one they died. What words did you use? Write for 10 minutes.