Shifting sands in rural New Mexico.

The author describes his first day on the obstetrics unit of a rural hospital in New Mexico. As a fourth-year medical student, he was excited to show all that he knew about pregnancy and delivery. He recounts the delivery of a fetus via c-section that was stillborn. There was a post-mortem one hour later with the surgeons, nurses, and residents. The patient spoke only Spanish, which put an enormous strain on the interpreter who the author noticed sitting near the center of the room. The team of nurses, doctors, and surgeons argued around her, obviously upset about how the case was handled. The author watched the translator for a moment and noticed a tear rolling down her left cheek. The bickering stopped abruptly when the translator's quiet tears suddenly turned into heavy sobs. The room turned silent, and everyone's attention shifted toward the translator. For a moment, the events of the morning were forgotten, and everyone's anger turned into empathy. The author learned all he could about the medical aspects of this pregnancy and why it went so wrong. But the interpreter taught him something that can't be found in any medical textbooks; she taught him about the pain of loss. (PsycInfo Database Record (c) 2025 APA, all rights reserved).