真正的成长，从不取决于年龄_大学英语阅读

真正的成长，从不取决于年龄

I went straight from the airport to the hospital. The sight of him in a flimsy hospital gown, weak and pale, eyes half open, fresh gray stubble on his cheeks, made me shudder, but I didn’t let on how I felt beyond a slight furrowing of my brow.[18] For once, this wasn’t about me. I got to work, tracking down his doctor to determine where we were at and what still needed to be done. For the next few days, I dutifully monitored my father’s blood transfusion, helped him up whenever he went to the bathroom, seasoned his soups and made him tea, led him on a daily constitutional around the floor, chased after nurses to get his medicines on time.[19] I took notes and tried to sound informed whenever doctors came in, even though the medical jargon[20] went over my head. I answered phone calls from concerned family and friends. Whenever he napped, which was most of the time, I sat idly by his bed, playing solitaire on my phone.[21]

The idea of dad being alone in the hospital was incomprehensible to me, so I sat 12-hour days in uncomfortable plastic chairs apparently designed to deter lengthy visitation.[22] But in the next bed lay an elderly man with lung cancer and a horrific cough who had family stop by for 10 minutes a day, if at all. “I love you,” they called out as they left. Then why don’t you stay long enough to take off your coat? I wondered. On his side of the curtain, my father proudly announced to anyone who would listen, “She flew in from New York to be with me.” “You’re a good daughter,” they all told me—people at the hospital, friends, the clerk at the front desk of the apartment building. I didn’t know what to make of[23] the statements. Isn’t this what kids are supposed to do for their parents? Isn’t this what my family did for me?