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A Doctor on Night-Call
夜间出诊的医生
M. H. Nelson
M.H.内尔森
It's a privilege to be a doctor … "How lucky you are to be a doctor …" It's a privilege to be a doctor, is it? Anyone who's a doctor is right out of luck, I thought. Anyone who's studying medicine should have his head examined.
“当名医生真叫人羡慕……”；“多走运，你当上了医生……”干医生这行当，难道真的叫人羡慕？我倒认为，凡是当医生的全都倒了霉。凡是学医的都该去查一下脑子是否正常。
You may think I want to change my job. Well, at the moment I do. As one of my friends says — even doctors have a few friends — it's all experience. Experience! I don't need such experience. I need a warm, comfortable, undisturbed bed all my own. I need it badly. I need all telephones to be thrown down the nearest well, that's what I need.
你可能会觉得我是想换个行当干干。嗯，这会儿我倒是真想换换。正如我的一个朋友所说——即便是医生也还有几个朋友一当医生就是能长阅历。阅历！我才不需要这种阅历呢。我想要的是一张完全属于自己的卧榻，温暖舒适，无人打搅。我实在太需要这样一张床了。最好把所有的电话机，统统扔到就近的一口水井里去，这才是我所要的。
All these thoughts fly round my head as I drive my Mini （微型汽车）through the foggy streets of East London at 3:45 a.m. on a December morning. I am a ministering angel in a Mini with a heavy coat and a bag of medicines. As I speed down Lea Bridge in the dark at this horrible morning hour, the swish （沙沙声）of the mud against the windows, the heater （发热器） first blowing hot then cold, my back aching from the car-seat made for a misshapen camel, the fog swirling （盘旋）about the empty petrol stations, I do not feel like a ministering angel. I wish I were on the beach in southern France. Call me a bad doctor if you like. Call me what you will. But don't call me at half past three on a December morning for an ear-ache that you have had for two weeks.
这些念头就这样在我脑子里转来转去，我正开着我的那辆微型汽车在伦敦东区雾蒙蒙的小街陋巷里转悠，此刻正是12月某个凌晨的3点45分。我是坐在微型车中的救死扶伤、身披厚外套、肩挎医药箱的天使。我在这讨厌的凌晨时刻，摸黑急速驶过利埃大桥，泥浆在车窗上沙沙溅响，发热器先是吹热风，然后又吹冷风；那张对畸形骆驼才适合的车座，硌得我的脊背又酸又痛；路边空荡荡的加油站四周雾气缭绕——这时候，我并不觉得自己像个救护天使。我希望此刻是躺在法国南部的海滩上。你尽可以叫我坏医生，你爱怎么叫都行，可你千万别在12月的某个凌晨三点半打电话把我叫起，就为那只疼了已有两个星期的耳朵。
Of course, being a doctor isn't really all bad. We do have our moments. Occasionally people are ill, occasionally you can help, occasionally you get given a cup of tea and rock-hard cake at two o'clock in the morning —then you worry if you have done everything. But all too often "everything" is a repetitious routine: look, listen, feel, tap. Tablets （药片）, injection, phone, ambulance, away to the next.
当然喽，当医生也并非一无是处。我们也有称心如意的时刻。偶尔人们真的病了，偶尔你确实能帮上忙，偶尔凌晨两点光景，有人会拿给你一杯水和一块硬邦邦的糕饼——这么一来，你就会担心自己是否样样事情都做周全了。可大多数情况下，所谓“样样事情”不外乎例行公事那一套：望气色，问病情，号脉听声，开药，注射，打电话叫救护车，然后再去看下一个病人。
And then there is always the cool, warm voice of the girl on the switchboard of the emergency bed service who will get your patient into hospital for you — the pleasant voice that comes to you as you stand in the cold, dark, smelly, dirty telephone box somewhere in a dangerous section of town. Oh, it has its moments, this life does.
而急诊服务总机，总是那个沉着、亲切的女子声音，为你派车送病人去医院——你在城里某个危险地段，在那寒冷、阴暗、又脏又臭的电话亭里，那头传来的却是个悦耳的声音。嗬，这种生活还真有让人感到得其所哉的时刻，确实是这样。
