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From NPR News, this is weekend edition. I'm Liane Hanson.
I believe in mystery.
I believe in family.
I believe in being who I am.
I believe in the power of failure.
And I believe normal life is extraordinary.
This I Believe.
For our regular series--This I Believe, we've been asking you for your contributions.
Today we have an essay sent to us by Isabel Legarda, a Belmont Massachusetts.
Legarda is a thirty-five-year-old mother of two. She's recently completed her residency and is aboard certified1 anesthesiologist. Here is our series curator, independent producer Jay Allison.
For some people who write for our series their work is the expression of their belief. The belief comes first and the action follows. That's true for Isabel Legarda, but her work, and its simple essential tasks, confirms her conviction even when it wavers. As you'll hear in her essay for This I Believe.
I'm often asked why I chose to be an anesthesiologist. The truest answer I give is that anesthesiology is a spiritual work. The word spiritual can have different meanings. I think of the Latin root-spiritus, breath, inspiration. Words that resound2 in both medicine and faith. Words that help define my life and work.
My spirituality has evolved hand-in-hand with my becoming a physician. In medical school, a classmate and I once found ourselves talking not about science but about faith. We had been raised in different traditions, and he asked me, "If you could verbalize in one sentence the single most important idea at the heart of your religion, what would you say?" I imagined my religion at its origins, untouched by history. No canon of stories, traditions, rituals, no trappings — one sentence to distill3 everything that mattered? I paused for a second before it came to me, like a sudden breath: Every person is precious. That was the core of my faith.
But when I finished medical school and started residency, my spiritual life began to fray4 at the edges. I couldn't reconcile the suffering of children with the idea of a merciful God. Once, while making rounds, I unintentionally walked in on parents praying ardently5 at their infant daughter's hospital bed. Though I was moved, I remembered wondering if it was any use. I struggled to make spiritual connections.
The moment I chose my specialty6, though, I began suturing together some of those tattered7 edges of faith. One day, an anesthesiologist taught me how to give manual breaths — to breathe for a child while he couldn't breathe for himself. On that day, my life turned. I took on the responsibility of sustaining the life-breath of others, and slowly I opened up to spirit once again. Now, whenever I listen to patients' breath sounds while squeezing oxygen into their lungs or intervening when their blood pressures sag8, when I hold their hands or dry their tears, I find myself literally9 in touch with the sacred.
Perhaps for some, this degree of control creates a sense of power. For me, it is profoundly humbling10. I realize that if I forget I am standing11 on holy ground in the O.R. and fail to approach my patients for reverence12, I risk their lives.
Every person is precious: This I believe with my whole heart. Each time I keep watch over patients and protect them when they're most vulnerable, my faith comes alive. It catches breath: spiritus.
Isabel Legarda with her essay for This I Believe. One of Leagrda's main influences was her anatomy13 professor, a Franciscan priest. She told us some mornings, she would hear him talk about the embryologic origin of the duodenum and then attend his new mass to hear him connect scripture14 to the rest of life. We welcome all your essays in our series. And at npr.org/thisibelieve, you can find out how to submit and read what others have written. For This I Believe, I'm Jay Allison.
In two weeks we'll bring you another essay in our series from Michael Oldman of Cleveland, Ohio on the belief which took him off the streets and gave him a future he hadn't imagined. This I Believe is independently produced by Jay Allison, Dan Gediman, John Gregory and Viki Merrick.
Support for This I Believe comes from Prudential Retirement15.
I believe in mystery.
I believe in family.
I believe in being who I am.
I believe in the power of failure.
And I believe normal life is extraordinary.
This I Believe.
For our regular series--This I Believe, we've been asking you for your contributions.
Today we have an essay sent to us by Isabel Legarda, a Belmont Massachusetts.
Legarda is a thirty-five-year-old mother of two. She's recently completed her residency and is aboard certified1 anesthesiologist. Here is our series curator, independent producer Jay Allison.
For some people who write for our series their work is the expression of their belief. The belief comes first and the action follows. That's true for Isabel Legarda, but her work, and its simple essential tasks, confirms her conviction even when it wavers. As you'll hear in her essay for This I Believe.
I'm often asked why I chose to be an anesthesiologist. The truest answer I give is that anesthesiology is a spiritual work. The word spiritual can have different meanings. I think of the Latin root-spiritus, breath, inspiration. Words that resound2 in both medicine and faith. Words that help define my life and work.
My spirituality has evolved hand-in-hand with my becoming a physician. In medical school, a classmate and I once found ourselves talking not about science but about faith. We had been raised in different traditions, and he asked me, "If you could verbalize in one sentence the single most important idea at the heart of your religion, what would you say?" I imagined my religion at its origins, untouched by history. No canon of stories, traditions, rituals, no trappings — one sentence to distill3 everything that mattered? I paused for a second before it came to me, like a sudden breath: Every person is precious. That was the core of my faith.
But when I finished medical school and started residency, my spiritual life began to fray4 at the edges. I couldn't reconcile the suffering of children with the idea of a merciful God. Once, while making rounds, I unintentionally walked in on parents praying ardently5 at their infant daughter's hospital bed. Though I was moved, I remembered wondering if it was any use. I struggled to make spiritual connections.
The moment I chose my specialty6, though, I began suturing together some of those tattered7 edges of faith. One day, an anesthesiologist taught me how to give manual breaths — to breathe for a child while he couldn't breathe for himself. On that day, my life turned. I took on the responsibility of sustaining the life-breath of others, and slowly I opened up to spirit once again. Now, whenever I listen to patients' breath sounds while squeezing oxygen into their lungs or intervening when their blood pressures sag8, when I hold their hands or dry their tears, I find myself literally9 in touch with the sacred.
Perhaps for some, this degree of control creates a sense of power. For me, it is profoundly humbling10. I realize that if I forget I am standing11 on holy ground in the O.R. and fail to approach my patients for reverence12, I risk their lives.
Every person is precious: This I believe with my whole heart. Each time I keep watch over patients and protect them when they're most vulnerable, my faith comes alive. It catches breath: spiritus.
Isabel Legarda with her essay for This I Believe. One of Leagrda's main influences was her anatomy13 professor, a Franciscan priest. She told us some mornings, she would hear him talk about the embryologic origin of the duodenum and then attend his new mass to hear him connect scripture14 to the rest of life. We welcome all your essays in our series. And at npr.org/thisibelieve, you can find out how to submit and read what others have written. For This I Believe, I'm Jay Allison.
In two weeks we'll bring you another essay in our series from Michael Oldman of Cleveland, Ohio on the belief which took him off the streets and gave him a future he hadn't imagined. This I Believe is independently produced by Jay Allison, Dan Gediman, John Gregory and Viki Merrick.
Support for This I Believe comes from Prudential Retirement15.
点击收听单词发音
1 certified | |
a.经证明合格的;具有证明文件的 | |
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2 resound | |
v.回响 | |
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3 distill | |
vt.蒸馏,用蒸馏法提取,吸取,提炼 | |
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4 fray | |
v.争吵;打斗;磨损,磨破;n.吵架;打斗 | |
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5 ardently | |
adv.热心地,热烈地 | |
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6 specialty | |
n.(speciality)特性,特质;专业,专长 | |
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7 tattered | |
adj.破旧的,衣衫破的 | |
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8 sag | |
v.下垂,下跌,消沉;n.下垂,下跌,凹陷,[航海]随风漂流 | |
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9 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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10 humbling | |
adj.令人羞辱的v.使谦恭( humble的现在分词 );轻松打败(尤指强大的对手);低声下气 | |
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11 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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12 reverence | |
n.敬畏,尊敬,尊严;Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称;v.尊敬,敬畏,崇敬 | |
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13 anatomy | |
n.解剖学,解剖;功能,结构,组织 | |
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14 scripture | |
n.经文,圣书,手稿;Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》,《圣经》中的一段 | |
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15 retirement | |
n.退休,退职 | |
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