جهد عقابيل الصدمات
Explanation:
You did not state why you found كَرْبٌ تالٍ للرَّضْح lame, but I take it you are looking for an expression that does not sound like the name of a spare part for a nuclear reactor. Many Arabic translators share the feeling that the name of a common condition should be friendly enough so that everybody can relate to it, unlike the name of an obscure piece of machinery, an extinct species, or an arcane philosophical concept, that only specialists need to invoke.
There may be a point to this point, but it is very different from the common practice in the English-speaking world (especially outside the US), where scientists give each condition they define a unique, identifiable name, not necessarily elegant or easy to pronounce or spell, but always serving the purpose of semantical precision first and foremost, and often borrowing (or stealing) from dead languages. The idea is that no two distinct medical conditions would have the same name. Every time a new distinction is made, a new name is made, so that when two individuals talk about a topic, though they may disagree, they would at least know that they are referring to the same thing. In order to generate a distinct name for each distinct condition, a fair number of unpalatable names need to be accepted. That is the main feature of technical jargon.
The need for precise nomenclature for medical conditions in particular is more intensely felt when vastly important decisions and actions (not only modes of treatment) hinge on whether the condition is properly named. Consider, for instance, the current tragedy of Mrs. Terri Schiavo in Florida. The entire United States, including the Governor of Florida, the US Congress, the Supreme Court, and the President, are at a complete loss because of one phrase: persistent/permanent vegitative state (PVS). Everybody had thought all along that once a condition has been identified as PVS, the course of action to follow would be fairly easy to identify. It does not seem so now. It will not surprise me that one of the outcomes of this case will be the spawning of a new set of names to distinguish conditions that had been thought similar but now seem different enough to require different courses of action.
But shouldn't conditions be given friendlier names for the sake of ordinary mortals who would be intimdated by jargon? Not according to the common practice. The idea is that if a condition is relatively rare, then patients and families need to learn its name as they acquiring the education that they need as part of their coping with the condition. For instance, I never know what hyperthyroidism was until I was diagnosed with it. And if the condition is relatively common, then the name will be used so frequently that it won't sound so odd. The terms diabetes, hernia, hemorrhoids, hysterectomy, post-partum depression, and osteoporosis are all outlandish terms, objectively speaking, but have become domesticated through consistent usage.
That is the general thinking, although in the US, standards are much more relaxed than in other parts of the Western world. Doctors commonly speak of a "heart attack" rather than a "myocardial infarct."
Among Arabs, the drive to find an elegant name for everything is given high premium. Many translators feel guilty if they cannot find a friedly name for "trauma." But how did a Greek word like "trauma" become a friendly name in English? Because people did not try to substitute a less "traumatic" name.
In the suggestions you have received so far, the options for "trauma" include:
كارثة، رضح، صدمة، ضرر، صدمة نفسـية
They are all correct in some sense. An event becomes trumatic only if it is experienced at some level as being كارثة. It is not traumatic unless it causes some ضرر. And the experience impacts the system in a jarring manner, like a صدمة
So why would anybody go for رضح? Simply because none of the other words really expresses what a trauma is, although they all touch upon one aspect of it or another. Does رضح expresses what a truama is? It will if it is consistently used in that sense, and we do not routinely try to dodge it.
If you find رضح entirely unpalatable, I find صدمة to be the least misleading of the other terms you have, but that is just a personal opinion. If you go for it, I would suggest the plural form, as stated above.
In the suggestions you have received so far, the options for "stress" include:
قلق، كرب، اضطراب، ضغط نفسي
Although post traumatic stress may involve قلق or اضطراب, neither term comes close to the clinical meaning of "stress." I believe that الكرب is closer to "distress" than "stress." Although post traumatic stress involves distress, the clinical point of the name is that the system is under stress.
In Syrian medical schools, stress is called شدة, which I think is not bad, but I prefer جَهد based on the following definitions in Al-Munjid:
جهده المرض أي هزله
أجهد الدابة أي حمَّلها فوق طاقتها
جُهد أي غُمّ أو هزل
جَهد عيشه أي اشـتدّ ونكد
الجهدان أي من أصابه الجهد أي المشقة
Again, if you find both جهد and شدة entirely unpalatable, would go for ضغط نفساني. I have heard many people use it in the sense of "stress," I think because of the physical analogy, so at least it has the virture of currency.
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Note added at 8 days (2005-04-03 03:38:53 GMT) Post-grading
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Paragraph 4 contains a number of spots that need good editing/proofreading:
\"... patients and families need to learn its name as they acquire the education that they need ...\"
\"... I never knew what hyperthyroidism was ...\"
I apologize.
| Fuad Yahya
Specializes in field
Native speaker of:  Arabic, English
PRO pts in category: 26
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The translation workplace 
peer agreement (net): +1
