Abstract

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Voice of Patients:The Exclusive Work of a Human Who Can AdvocateLaisson DeSouzaThere is much conversation in the medical interpreter community about the effects of artificial intelligence in the work we do, and how we may or may not be out of a job in the coming years. Back in the day, I used to think about the future of interpreting and dread the day machines would do something intrinsically of human nature: communication and interpretation.As time goes on, I am much more assured that all medical interpreters have their place solid, as technology progresses. I started as a medical interpreter in 2015, newly arrived from Brazil and having left a promising career in education there, as there were some pressing family needs that obligated me to move to the United States. Medical interpreting was the way to get closer to a field I loved and learn something new. The classes had all the elements that attracted me to the profession, including extensive medical terminology, in-depth discussion of human anatomy and physiology, intense discussions about culture and the role of medical interpreters, and the practice of medical interpreting in several role-play sessions with knowledgeable and experienced instructors in the field.When I first started, there were many questions and not as many answers. Because of the nature of what we do, each patient and each encounter is unique. Sometimes, you may have prepared your vocabulary list for a topic, and the encounter goes somewhere else, wasting the effort you put into that specific appointment. And now you better be ready for several new words and expressions that both the patient and provider may use. The interpreter can always ask for clarification; however, it is important to develop your language wealth so that interruptions on our part do not affect the flow of communication.Sometimes, you get to work with lovely providers who respect you as a professional and a human being, and sometimes, you have to work with rude providers who see you as an intruder or a disposable piece of human equipment. We are witnesses of how much providers go through as they face a broken system to care for their patients, and we share their frustration when they have to say that the insurance has not approved a procedure, a course of treatment, and so forth, and that there is nothing they can do to ameliorate the situation. We are witnesses, we are there, we are part of it.The line that separates an interpreter and other important healthcare professionals can be blurred. There is an expectation that interpreters act as case managers, doing screening calls or surveys, or that they will contact patients to deliver pharmacy instructions, and other requests. We are used to advocating for our patients, but we seldom advocate for ourselves to ensure that we have better working conditions and are seen as an important part of the care team. We are part of the medical encounter to collaborate and should be seen as a resource to promote communicative autonomy—at times, medical providers such as nurses and clinicians see interpreting as a burden, and, understandably, a 15-minute routine appointment will take at least double that time, but again, is it not the ultimate goal to provide optimal care for a patient? How would that be possible without hearing the voice of the most important element of an encounter, the patient?So many touching moments have warmed my heart over the past few years. The first time that joyful expecting parents could hear the heartbeat of their baby who would be born in a few months—and all the questions that followed in the pre-natal care appointment—were moments that reached deep into my heart, reminding me of how privileged I am as an interpreter to be the [End Page 170] voice and ears of people in a process that makes us human. Another heartwarming moment came when, after months of speech therapy, a child with a developmental delay was able to say a few words for the first time. I can still remember how all involved—the care team, the mother, and myself—clapped our...