unit3acrimeofcompassion

Unit ThreeI. Lead-inMovie ClipWatch the following video and then do the exercise. You can find the interpretation of some words and phrases in "Word Bank".Book 6 Unit (00:00 – 02:40)ScriptElephant survival depends on profiting from the experience of many lifetimes.This baby elephant was born last night, and the whole herd seems to welcome this new addition. But the mother is young and inexperienced. This is her first baby. If she is to produce milk, a mother must drink. And the newborn calf must keep up with her, as the herd continues on their long journey to find water.After eight kilometers, the calf is flagging. Enough is enough. The young mother encourages her calf to continue, but there is still a long way to go and the calf is already getting dehydrated.The elephants are now so close to water that they can smell it. Water, at last. (From BBC Documentary Life: Mammals)Word Bank1.herd:a large group of animals, in the video it refers to the group of elephants. The truck could not move because a herd of buffaloes was blocking the road.2.flag:become limp, tired, or weak. If you begin to flag, there is an excellent café to revive you.3.dehydrate:to lose water from the bodyExercise1.The baby elephant's mother is _________________.A. oldB. inexperiencedC. sickD. impatient2.It seems the baby elephant cannot walk any longer because ___________.A. it was just bornB. it hasn't drunk any milkC. it has walked a long wayD. it has been abandoned by the herdKey: 1. B 2. CInspirational QuotesWhen you have got an elephant by the hind leg, and he is trying to run away, it's best to let him run.— Abraham LincolnDiscussionDo you agree that the best way to protect an endangered animal is to keep it in a zoo and take good care of it WhyII. Text IPre-reading Questions1.If you have ever witnessed the sufferings of a dying person, tell us the feelingsthat the scene evoked from you.2.Do you think doctors and nurses should do everything within their means to tryto save a terminally ill patient even when they know clearly all their efforts would mean nothing more than prolonging his sufferingGeneral ReadingI. Determine which of the following best states the purpose of the writing.A. To recount her horrifying experience of caring for a terminally ill patient.B. To make an appeal for a terminally ill patient's right to die.C. To demand that nurses be given the right to issue a "no-code" order.Key: BII. Judge whether the following statements are true or false.1.When Mac entered the hospital, he was apparently a normal person except foran enduring cough.2.Despite his worsening condition, Mac still had a strong wish to live.3.The medical community is divided on whether a patient's life should beextended as long as possible under all circumstances.4.It can be inferred from the essay that doctors, not nurses, have the rightto give a "no-code order".5.In Maura's eyes, Huttmann was a murderer for not pushing the code blue buttonin time.Key: 1. T 2. F 3. T 4. T 5. FBackground Notes1.the Phil Donahue show: The Phil Donahue Show, also known as Donahue, is anAmerican television talk show that ran for 26 years on national television. Its run was preceded by three years of local broadcast in Dayton, Ohio, and it was broadcast nationwide between 1967 and 1996.2.code blue: Hospital emergency codes are used in hospitals worldwide to alertstaff to various emergency situations. The use of codes is intended to conveyessential information quickly and with a minimum of misunderstanding to staff.Text StudyTextA Crime of CompassionBarbara Huttmann1"Murderer," a man shouted. "God help patients who get you for a nurse." 2"What gives you the right to play God" another one asked.3 It was the Phil Donahue show where the guest is a fatted calf and the audiencea 200-strong flock of vultures hungering to pick at the bones. I had told them about Mac, one of my favorite cancer patients. "We resuscitated him 52 times in just one month. I refused to resuscitate him again. I simply sat there and held his hand while he died."4 There wasn't time to explain that Mac was a young, witty macho cop who walked into the hospital with 32 pounds of attack equipment, looking as if he could single-handedly protect the whole city, if not the entire state. "Can't get rid of this cough," he said. Otherwise, he felt great.5 Before the day was over, tests confirmed that he had lung cancer. And before the year was over, I loved him, his wife, Maura, and their three kids as if they were my own. All the nurses loved him. And we all battled his disease for six monthswithout ever giving death a thought. Six months isn't such a long time in the whole scheme of things, but it was long enough to see him lose his youth, his wit, his macho, his hair, his bowel and bladder control, his sense of taste and smell, and his ability to do the slightest thing for himself. It was long enough to watch Maura's transformation from a young woman into a haggard, beaten old lady.6 When Mac had wasted away to a 60-pound skeleton kept alive by liquid food we poured down a tube, . solutions we dripped into his veins, and oxygen we piped toa mask on his face, he begged us: "Mercy ... for God's sake, please just let me go."7 The first time he stopped breathing, the nurse pushed the button that calls a "code blue" throughout the hospital and sends a team rushing to resuscitate the patient. Each time he stopped breathing, sometimes two or three times in one day, the code team came again. The doctors and technicians worked their miracles and walked away. The nurses stayed to wipe the saliva that drooled from his mouth, irrigate the big craters of bedsores that covered his hips, suction the lung fluids that threatened to drown him, clean the feces that burn his skin like lye, pour the liquid food down that tube attached his stomach, put pillows between his knees to ease the bone-on-bone pain, turn him every hour to keep the bedsores from getting worse, and change his gown and linen every two hours to keep him from being soaked in perspiration.8 At night I went home and tried to scrub away the smell of decaying flesh that seemed woven into the fabric of my uniform. It was in my hair, the upholstery of my car —there was no washing it away. And every night I prayed that Mac would die, that his agonized eyes would never again plead with me to let him die.9 Every morning I asked his doctor for a "no-code" order. Without that order, we had to resuscitate every patient who stopped breathing. His doctor was one of several who believe we must extend life as long as we have the means and knowledge to do it. To not do it is to be liable for negligence, at least in the eyes of many people,including some nurses. I thought about what it would be like to stand before a judge, accused of murder, if Mac stopped breathing and I didn't call a code.10 And after the fifty-second code, when Mac was still lucid enough to beg for death again, and Maura was crumbled in my arms again, and when no amount of pain medication stilled his moaning and agony, I wondered about a spiritual judge. Was all this misery and suffering supposed to be building character or infusing us all with the sense of humility that comes from impotence11 Had we, the whole medical community, become so arrogant that we believed in the illusion of salvation through science Had we become so self-righteous that we thought meddling in God's work was our duty, our moral imperative and legal obligation Did we really believe that we had the right to force "life" on a suffering man who had begged for the right to die12 Such questions haunted me more than ever early one morning when Maura went home to change her clothes and I was bathing Mac. He had been still for so long, I thought he at last had the blessed relief of coma. Then he opened his eyes and moaned, "Pain ... no more ... Barbara ... do something ... God, let me go."13 The desperation in his eyes and voice riddled me with guilt. "I'll stop," I told him as I injected the pain medication.14 I sat on the bed and held Mac's hands in mine. He pressed his bony fingers against my hand and muttered, "Thanks." Then there was one soft sigh and I felt his hands go cold in mine. "Mac" I whispered, as I waited for his chest to rise and fall again.15 A clutch of panic banded my chest, drew my finger to the code button, urged me to do something, anything ... but sit there alone with death. I kept one finger on the button, without pressing it, as a waxen pallor slowly transformed his face from person to empty shell. Nothing I've ever done in my 47 years has taken so much effort as it took not to press that code button.16 Eventually, when I was sure as I could be that the code team would fail to bringhim back, I entered the legal twilight zone and pushed the button. The team tried. And while they were trying, Maura walked into the room and shrieked, "No ... don't let them do this to him ... for God's sake ... please, no more."17 Cradling her in my arms was like cradling myself, Mac, and all those patients and nurses who had been in this place before, who do the best they can in a death-denying society.18 So a TV audience accused me of murder. Perhaps I am guilty. If a doctor had writtena no-code order, which is the only legal alternative, would he have felt any less guilty Until there is legislation making it a criminal act to code a patient who has requested the right to die, we will all of us risk the same fate as Mac. For whatever reason, we developed the means to prolong life, and now we are forced to use it. We do not have the right to die.Words and Phrases1.self-righteous adj.having a certainty, especially an unfounded one, that oneis totally correct or superior2.meddle in: interfere in. Young people today do not like their parents to meddle in their lives.meddle with—touch or handle sth. without permission. You can use my room but you're not supposed to meddle with my stuffs, especially my computer.Notes1.to play God:to function as God, . to decide when to terminate a person's life.Christians believe that only God has the right to decide when a person's life should end.2.When Mac had wasted away to a 60-pound skeleton: When Mac had been reduced toa 60-pound skeletonwaste away— (of a person or a part of the body) become progressively weaker and more emaciated. She is dying of AIDS, visibly wasting away.3.. solutions: "." is the abbreviation of "intravenous", meaning "within a vein",and ". solutions" refers to the liquid substances infused directly into the vein of a patient for therapeutic purposes.4.irrigate the big craters of bedsores: The verb "irrigate" normally means "tosupply water to land or crops to help growth." In medicine, the word can be used to mean "to apply a continuous flow of water or medication to an organ or a wound."5.suction the lung fluids that threatened to drown him: drain the excessive lungfluids that threaten his life6.that seemed woven into the fabric of my uniform: that seemed to have become anelement of the fabric of my uniformweave sth. into— include sth. as an integral part or element (of a fabric);include an element in a story, an artistic work, etc.. Some golden threads are woven into the fabric.Argumentative paragraphs are naturally woven into Huttmann's narration.7.to be liable for negligence: to be held responsible for failing to perform mydutybe liable for— to be responsible for by law, to be legally answerable to be liable to— be likely to do or to be something, likely to experience sth.(unpleasant). Once you have contacted the credit card protection scheme, you are no longer liable for any loss that might occur.He is suffering from hypertension and thus is liable to fall if he gets up too suddenly.The low-lying areas are liable to floods during the rainy season.8.when no amount of pain medication stilled his moaning and agony: when his painwas so acute that no matter how much pain-relieving medication was used, his suffering could not be easedstill vt. & vi.. He clapped his hands to still the agitated audience.When night fell, the village which was boisterous with tourists in the daytime stilled.9.I wondered about a spiritual judge.: I wondered if there was a spiritual judge(as against a legal judge), who would be supportive of my decision not to push the code blue button, thus to put an end to all this.10.building character: developing his personal qualities (so that he could faceup to the adversity better)11.the blessed relief of coma: Coma refers to a state of deep unconsciousness thatlasts for a prolonged period, caused especially by severe injury or illness.When in a coma, the patient is not conscious of any pain. That's why Huttmann thinks it is a blessed relief.12.riddled me with guilt: filled me with a strong sense of guiltThe verb riddle here means "fill or permeate sb. or sth. esp. with sth. unpleasant or undesirable".13.A clutch of panic banded my chest: I was so seized by panic that I felt simplysuffocatedclutch n. — graspband v. —surround (an object) with sth. in the form of a strip or ring, typically for reinforcement or decoration (usu. be banded ). The doors to the warehouse are all banded with iron to make them stronger.14.a waxen pallor slowly transformed his face from person to empty shell: theunhealthily pale colour of his face indicated that he was sinking15.the legal twilight zone: Twilight zone refers to a situation of confusion oruncertainty, which seems to exist between two different states or categories.Thus the legal twilight zone Huttmann says she entered here refers to the situation in which her action of pushing the button to call code blue can be deemed either legal or not legal.16.a death-denying society: a society where its members are not given the rightto die17.Until there is legislation making it a criminal act to code a patient who hasrequested the right to die ...: Until it becomes law that it is a criminal act to call a resuscitation team to save a patient who has voluntarily asked for the right to die ...Questions1.There seems to be a contradiction in the title "A Crime of Compassion". Whatis itKey: There are various kinds of crimes, but criminals can be anything butcompassionate. It is hardly possible to associate compassion with any crime and being compassionate with a criminal.2.Huttmann begins her essay with a metaphor. Locate it and then explain it. (para.3)Key:The first sentence of para. 3: It was the Phil Donahue show where the guest is a fatted calf and the audience a 200-strong flock of vultures hungering to pick at the bones. Huttmann likens herself (the guest of the talk show) to a fatted calf, and the audience to a flock of more than 200 vultures hungering to pick at the bones. With the metaphor she intends to tell the reader that the way she handled the case of Mac was strongly disapproved of by the general public, and that the concept of mercy killing was unacceptable to them.3.Where in the essay can we find descriptions of Mac's condition when he was beingtreated Why do you think Huttmann is being so specific and detailed (paras. 6 & 7)Key:Mostly in para. 6, and the latter part of para. 7. She gives such detailed and specific descriptions of Mac's condition to make vivid to the reader the horrifying sufferings Mac had to endure, ultimately to support her argument thata patient in such condition should be given the right to die if he should sorequest.4.Was it a difficult decision for Huttmann to make not to push the button in time(para. 15)Key: Obviously it was, as she relates in para. 15 "Nothing I've ever done in my 47 years has taken so much effort as it took not to press that code button."5.Where does Huttmann state her thesis (para. 18)Key:In the last paragraph: Until there is legislation making it a criminal act to code a patient who has requested the right to die, we will all of us risk the same fate as Mac. For whatever reason, we developed the means to prolong life, and now we are forced to use it. We do not have the right to die.Activity1.In the Phil Donahue Show Huttmann as a guest was accused of murder by most, ifnot all, of the audience with regard to Mac's death. Put yourself in Huttmann's position and give a talk to defend yourself.Sentence patterns for your referenceIt appears that ... but ...If you had ... you would ...Due to the reasons ...2.Thirty years after the publication of Huttmann's essay, euthanasia is still anunsettled issue in today's world. Form two groups, one for legitimizing euthanasia and the other against it, and have a debate on the issue.Sentence patterns for your referenceWe hold that ... because ...Nevertheless ...To sum up, ...Organization and DevelopmentArgumentative NarrationWhat Is Argumentative NarrationIf an essay is basically an argumentative one and the chief means used forargumentation is narration, it is called argumentative narration.Text AnalysisHuttmann begins the essay with the incident that the TV audience lodged strong accusations against her for murdering a patient she was supposed to care for. But her response does not follow immediately.She withholds her response to the accusation until the last paragraph, where the audience's accusation of her is mentioned again, and her argument is presented.Most of the essay is devoted to the narration of the painful dying process of a terminally ill cancer patient, which she witnessed. Based on the narrated incident her argument seems only a natural conclusion.III. Text IIText StudyTextA HangingGeorge Orwell1 It was in Burma, a sodden morning of the rains. We were waiting outside the condemned cells, a row of sheds fronted with double bars, like small animal cages. Each cell measured about ten feet by ten and was quite bare within except for a plank bed and a pot for drinking water. In some of them brown silent men were squatting at the inner bars, with their blankets draped round them. These were the condemned men, due to be hanged within the next week or two.2 One prisoner had been brought out of his cell. He was a Hindu, a puny wisp ofa man, with a shaven head and vague liquid eyes. Six tall Indian warders were guardinghim and getting him ready for the gallows. Two of them stood by with rifles and fixed bayonets, while the others handcuffed him, passed a chain through his handcuffs and fixed it to their belts, and lashed his arms tightly to his sides. They crowded very close about him, with their hands always on him in a careful, caressing grip, as though all the while feeling him to make sure he was there. But he stood quite unresisting, yielding his arms limply to the ropes, as though he hardly noticed what was happening.3 Eight o'clock struck and a bugle call floated from the distant barracks. The superintendent of the jail, who was standing apart from the rest of us, moodily prodding the gravel with his stick, raised his head at the sound. "For God's sake hurry up, Francis," he said irritably. "The man ought to have been dead by this time. Aren't you ready yet"4 Francis, the head jailer, a fat Dravidian in a white drill suit and gold spectacles, waved his black hand. "Yes sir, yes sir," he bubbled. "All is satisfactorily prepared. The hangman is waiting. We shall proceed."5 "Well, quick march, then. The prisoners can't get their breakfast till this job's over."6 We set out for the gallows. Two warders marched on either side of the prisoner, with their rifles at the slope; two others marched close against him, gripping him by arm and shoulder, as though at once pushing and supporting him. The rest of us, magistrates and the like, followed behind.7 It was about forty yards to the gallows. I watched the bare brown back of the prisoner marching in front of me. He walked clumsily with his bound arms, but quite steadily. At each step his muscles slid neatly into place, the lock of hair on his scalp danced up and down, his feet printed themselves on the wet gravel. And once, in spite of the men who gripped him by each shoulder, he stepped slightly aside to avoid a puddle on the path.8 It is curious, but till that moment I had never realized what it means to destroya healthy, conscious man. When I saw the prisoner step aside to avoid the puddle I saw the mystery, the unspeakable wrongness, of cutting a life short when it is in full tide. This man was not dying, he was alive just as we are alive. All the organs of his body were working —bowels digesting food, skin renewing itself, nails growing, tissues forming —all toiling away in solemn foolery. His nails would still be growing when he stood on the drop, when he was falling through the air with a tenth of a second to live. His eyes saw the yellow gravel and the gray walls, and his brain still remembered, foresaw, reasoned — reasoned even about puddles. He and we were a party of men walking together, seeing, hearing, feeling, understanding the same world; and in two minutes, with a sudden snap, one of us would be gone —one mind less, one world less.9 The gallows stood in a small yard. The hangman, a gray-haired convict in the white uniform of the prison, was waiting beside his machine. He greeted us with a servile crouch as we entered. At a word from Francis the two warders, gripping the prisoner more closely than ever, half led half pushed him to the gallows and helped him clumsily up the ladder. Then the hangman climbed up and fixed the rope around the prisoner's neck.10 We stood waiting, five yards away. The warders had formed a rough circle round the gallows. And then, when the noose was fixed, the prisoner began crying out to his god. It was a high, reiterated cry of "Ram! Ram! Ram! Ram!" not urgent and fearful like a prayer or a cry for help, but steady, rhythmical, almost like the tolling of a bell.11 The hangman climbed down and stood ready, holding the lever. Minutes seemed to pass. The steady crying from the prisoner went on and on, "Ram! Ram! Ram!" never faltering for an instant. The superintendent, his head on his chest, was slowly poking the ground with his stick; perhaps he was counting the cries, allowing theprisoner a fixed number —fifty, perhaps, or a hundred. Everyone had changed color. The Indians had gone gray like bad coffee, and one or two of the bayonets were wavering.12 Suddenly the superintendent made up his mind. Throwing up his head he made a swift motion with his stick. "Chalo!" he shouted almost fiercely.13 There was a clanking noise, and then dead silence. The prisoner had vanished, and the rope was twisting on itself. We went round the gallows to inspect the prisoner's body. He was dangling with his toes pointing straight downward. Very slowly revolving, as dead as a stone.14 The superintendent reached out with his stick and poked the bare brown body; it oscillated slightly. "He's all right," said the superintendent. He backed out from under the gallows, and blew out a deep breath. The moody look had gone out of his face quite suddenly. He glanced at his wrist watch. "Eight minutes past eight. Well, that's all for this morning, thank God."15 The warders unfixed bayonets and marched away. We walked out of the gallows yard, past the condemned cells with their waiting prisoners, into the big central yard of the prison. The convicts were already receiving their breakfast. They squatted in long rows, each man holding a tin pannikin, while two warders with buckets march round ladling out rice; it seemed quite a homely, jolly scene, after the hanging. An enormous relief had come upon us now that the job was done. One felt an impulse to sing, to break into a run, to snigger. All at once everyone began chattering gaily.16 The Eurasian boy walking beside me nodded toward the way we had come, with a knowing smile: "Do you know sir, our friend [he meant the dead man] when he heard his appeal had been dismissed, he pissed on the floor of his cell. From fright. Kindly take one of my cigarettes, sir. Do you not admire my new silver case, sir Classy European style."17 Several people laughed — at what, nobody seemed certain.18 Francis was walking by the superintendent, talking garrulously: "Well, sir, all has passed off with the utmost satisfactoriness. It was all finished —flick! like that. It is not always so —oah no! I have known cases where the doctor was obliged to go beneath the gallows and pull the prisoner's legs to ensure decease. Most disagreeable."19 "Wriggling about, eh That's bad," said the superintendent.20 "Ach, sir, it is worse when they become refractory! One man, I recall, clung to the bars of his cage when we went to take him out. You will scarcely credit, sir, that it took six warders to dislodge him, three pulling at each leg."21 I found that I was laughing quite loudly. Everyone was laughing. Even the superintendent grinned in a tolerant way. "You'd better all come and have a drink," he said quite genially. "I've got a bottle of whiskey in the car. We could do with it."22 We went through the big double gates of the prison into the road. "Pulling at his legs!" exclaimed a Burmese magistrate suddenly, and burst into a loud chuckling. We all began laughing again. At that moment Francis' anecdote seemed extraordinarily funny. We all had a drink together, native and European alike, quite amicably. The dead man was a hundred yards away. Words and Phrases1.Hindu: a person who believes in and practices Hinduism, a religious traditionof Indian origin2.the drop: the trapdoor on the gallows, the opening of which causes the prisonerto fall and thus be hangedNotes1. a sodden morning of the rains: an extremely wet morning in the rainy season.In some parts of the world rain only falls in certain seasons, as in India; this rain is referred to as rains.2.condemned cells: a prison cell for someone who is going to be executed (British)3.quick march: This is a military command to tell the soldiers to walk or marchfast in an orderly, neat and regular manner.4.at the slope: Military (of a rifle) held with the barrel on the left shoulderand the butt in the left hand5.his feet printed themselves on the wet gravel: he left footprints behind on thewet gravel6.all toiling away in solemn foolery: all these organs were functioning normallyas usual but in a silly way, for all their efforts would go to waste as their owner was to be hanged soonComprehensionI. Answer the following multiple-choice questions.1.When he was taken out of the condemned cell, the prisoner appeared to be_________.A. fearfulB. resignedC. calmD. pitiable2.When marching the prisoner to the gallows, the author was preoccupied with________.A. the man's manner of walkingB. the man's thoughts at that momentC. the impending execution。