I knew when I first laid eyes on him, he was going to be a challenge.

He didn't look like much:  whisper-thin, almost to the point of being emaciated.  Pale, yellowish skin tone.  Dark, almond shaped eyes that snapped and sparkled like flames.  Wispy grey hair atop a nearly-bald head.  He couldn't have been more than five feet tall at the most.

I walked into the cubicle where he and his wife were at.  Mr.  Gok sat atop the bed, picking at his nails; his wife, meanwhile, sat in a chair, drumming her heels on the floor in a nervous fashion.  I could tell both were scared. 

I didn't blame them.  The E.R. is always a scary place for anyone, but especially for those who are sick and/or injured in any way.

I addressed the gentleman by calling his name.  Gok.  Mr. Hung Cho Gok.  He looked up at me.  He then started speaking in rapid-fire Chinese.  Not a lick of English.  I couldn't understand a word he was saying:  he was talking too fast.

Uh-oh.  

I know a little Chinese, but not enough to carry on a decent conversation.  I knew I was in trouble.

I then asked his wife what he said.  Same thing.  She didn't speak English either.

Double trouble.  I knew I would have to page someone who spoke Chinese because my Chinese consisted of a few phrases and words, nothing more.

A young female intern named Quo Xie came hurrying into the room.  I explained the situation to her; she would have to act as translator because as for me, I wasn't getting anywhere fast with this couple.

Whereupon,  Quo Xie started talking to the Goks.  Boy, you never saw anyone come to life so fast!  Soon, rapid-fire Chinese swirled about the room as Quo and the Goks conversed.  Meanwhile, all I could do was scratch my head and wonder what in the heck they were talking about.

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In a few minutes,  Quo told me what the man had said.  He had come to the hospital for symptoms that were puzzling to him.  Frequent urination.  Unending thirst.  Weight loss.  Tiredness.  Sores that wouldn't heal (he had bad feet, she said).  Numbness/tingling in his feet.  He was tired of feeling bad, so he came to the hospital to seek help.  (He'd been feeling like this for months, she told me.)

I told Mr. Gok that the doctor would see him shortly after we checked his vital signs.  Other than a rapid pulse and fast breathing, he was in pretty fine shape.  (He was scared; hence, the rapid heart and breathing rates.)

He gave me and Quo a nod of approval, to show us that he understood.

The doctor strode into the room.  It was Dr. Arjuwal, one of the head ER doctors.  I briefed him on Mr. Gok's symptoms and apprised him of the patient's vitals.  

I also told him that the Goks didn't speak English and that Quo would be acting as translator.

Dr. Arjuwal, through Quo's help, told Mr. Gok he would be admitted to the hospital because he felt that he had the beginning symptoms of diabetes.  He would probably be in for up to a week.

At the news, Mr. Gok's face fell.  "But I can't go in; I have my restaurant to run!"  he told me in Chinese (which Quo translated into English for me).  

"I'm sorry, sir, but you are a very sick man.  If you don't get this treated, you will die.  Diabetes is a very serious health problem; it's becoming more prevelent in today's society", the doctor admonished.  "You will have to stay in the hospital, so we can start treatment and teach you how to care for yourself; if you don't, you will more than likely, die.  Diabetes can kill you."

Mr. Gok looked at me, tears in his eyes.  His wife was weeping openly.  I felt so sorry for the little elderly man and his wife.  Even with the language barrier, their sadness/grief needed no translation.

An hour later, a bed was made available for Mr. Gok.  Before he and his wife left,  I told them I would visit them once they were settled in, and I would keep them in my prayers.

I never saw them again after this.  I often wonder what became of Mr. Gok and his wife.  I find myself thinking about them from time to time.  I only hope that he got the help he desperately needed to manage his diabetes.

~Written by Louisiana M. Sandusky,  R.N., Nashville, TN., on 11/21/09.