The woman could hardly speak or understand English. When the 36-year-old immigrant from Haiti arrived at Queens Hospital Center last October, the only thing she knew for sure was that she was pregnant.

Without an interpreter, she thought she had understood the doctor to say in English that a certain "procedure" should be performed because the baby was not positioned properly in her womb. That day, she went home to Cambria Heights, Queens excited with the thought of soon becoming a mother.

But a shocking twist came a month later when she learned that the doctor had actually performed an abortion on her. The discovery came only when she received a hospital bill for $1,400 for an abortion that she absolutely knew she did not want and was unaware had happened. It was the second time she lost a pregnancy at that hospital.

The woman, who asked not to print her name, was just one among the increasing number of patients, mostly new immigrants, who had problems getting proper medical care due to language barriers in New York's public and private hospitals.

Too often, according to the NYIC, language barriers in hospitals have alarmingly resulted in misdiagnosed illnesses, incorrect medical tests, and patients have been subjected to surgical procedures without their consent.

"The damage caused by hospital language barriers for immigrant families is so dangerous and widespread," said McHugh. "It's shocking that hospitals are treating patients everyday without being able to communicate with them."

But hope dawned on Dec. 15 with the passage of a new bill on human services. With a strong backing from over 100 community and union groups, 45 city council members, and Mayor Michael Bloomberg, the new bill— Intro. 38A—requires the N.Y. Human Resource Administration (HRA) to ensure language assistance services for non-English-speaking individuals so that they may have equal access to city services like Medicaid, food stamps and welfare centers.

"Today's passage of Intro. 38A is a significant step forward in addressing the problems non-English-speaking individuals face in accessing city services," Margie McHugh, executive director of the New York Immigration Coalition (NYIC), said in a statement. "We applaud the mayor for supporting this important measure and look forward to working with his administration on effective implementation, and to building on Intro. 38A to continue to expand language access throughout city services."

The new bill requires the translation of documents and notices into Arabic, Chinese, Haitian Creole, Korean, Russian and Spanish. Furthermore, it mandates strict record-keeping and reporting requirements to track requests for and agency ability to provide language assistance through translated materials, interpreters, and bilingual staff at HRA, the Department of Health and Mental Hygiene, the Department of Homeless Services, and the Administration for Children's Services.

"Despite significant strides in the last two years, too many New Yorkers are still having trouble accessing city services simply because HRA and other city agencies cannot communicate with them in a language that they understand. The Equal Access bill will make a real difference in people’s lives,” said Andrew Friedman, co-director of Make the Road by Walking.

In a survey of 108 immigrant patients at four hospitals in the city, conducted by the NYIC and six advocacy groups for ethnic families, findings show that 21 percent of the respondents did not understand their diagnosis or treatment, nine percent had medical procedures performed without their consent because they did not understand the doctor's explanations in English, and 75 percent of those who signed hospital forms did not understand what was written on the forms.

"When we ask hospitals what the process is for immigrants to get care in languages other than English, we are told that patients should just come in, and somehow they will be helped," said Sandra Romain, health services manager at Haitian-Americans United for Progress. "The reality we see every day is patients who are turned away because hospitals don't have enough staff who speak the language of the community, or don't bother to use trained interpreters.”

The survey also found that 40 percent of the interviewed patients never received any services in their language, and indicated that when they had untrained interpreters the information was inaccurately or partially translated for them.

According to McHugh, in most cases patients are told to bring their own 'interpreter'. Often, it turns out to be a child or a stranger found in the waiting room. But to share the patient's problems with a child is disturbing, and to share it with a stranger, she said, is in complete violation of the patient's confidentiality.

Maria Santos, 53, found herself in exactly that situation on two occasions this year at Brooklyn Hospital. The first incident occurred in July, when Maria went to the hospital to get a physical examination required by the Social Security Administration. She was denied a Spanish interpreter she said in a statement translated into English and sent by Friedman of Make the Road By Walking, a community organization that protects and expands its members' rights. The second incident happened a few months later, Santos said, when she returned for a mammogram and was told to "look for her own interpreter."

"The man who was taking information from me only spoke English. I don't know what his job at the hospital was because he never identified himself. I did not understand what he said," Santos said.

Left with no choices, she sat down in the waiting area and waited close to an hour until it was her turn. While she sat, she observed the man at the information counter, who seemed to prefer to help people who spoke English.

"It was humiliating and discriminating,” said Santos. “Later, when it was my turn, he told me again to find an interpreter. I know that was what he said because one of the patients from the waiting area told me, 'Look for someone to help you.’ These things should not be happening. Other patients who are strangers to me should not know my personal problems."

For many Filipino patients, it may not be a problem to communicate in English. But they still complain of getting "rude treatment" from medical staff when they speak slowly, or because of their thick accent.

"One time, in a hospital in Manhattan, a Caucasian medical assistant was treating me like I was uneducated, because I had to think for a few minutes before words came out. Of course, even I can speak English, and I'm not a native speaker," said Raul Minando, 49. "She treated me like a second-class patient, compared to those who speak English the way she does."

Seongho Kim, health program director at the Korean Community Services of Metropolitan New York, commented that many hospitals only have volunteer language banks, which are generally unreliable. "It is unreasonable that those in dire medical need are placed in a position of having to compromise the quality of care they receive," he said.

"The systems hospitals have in place to provide language assistance do not always result in meaningful access for limited-English speaking patients," said Nora Chaves, health program coordinator of the Latin American Integration Center. "Even when services are provided, they are often inadequate or delayed."

Under Title VI of the federal civil rights law, it is every patient's right to have equal access to hospitals, regardless of the patient's language.

The New York State Patient's Bill of Rights, as well as the New York City Emergency Room Regulations, also states that patients have a right to receive complete information about their diagnosis, to receive all the information needed to give informed consent, and to participate in all decisions about their treatment.

But these provisions, advocates said, seemed to be routinely ignored by hospitals and are not enforced by the N.Y. State Department of Health, denying many people their rights because they do not speak or read English. Sometimes this can lead to tragic consequences.

The night Nazipt, 49, felt extreme pain in his chest he called 911. While in the ambulance on the way from his home in Ocean Park, Brooklyn to Maimonides Hospital, a Russian-speaking medic assisted him. But problems arose when he was in the emergency room.

"Imagine that he almost couldn't breathe, yet he had to use his cell phone to call his 20-year-old son because no one in the room could translate for him the things that he wanted to say," said Lana Khrapunskaya, health advocate at the Shorefront Young Men-Young Women Hebrew Aassociation (YM-YWHA) of Brighton-Manhattan Beach, who related the story in a telephone interview.

The son on the cell phone, however, was also not fluent in English, Khrapunskaya said. Confused and distraught, Nazipt could do nothing but rely on the medical staff, without being able to utter a word.

At 4:00 a.m., Nazipt was released from the hospital. He walked home alone, Khrapunskaya said, without knowing what the diagnosis was and what exactly caused his chest pain.

In an effort to get the side of the N.Y. State Health Department, a spokesman who identified himself as Robert Kenny came on the phone. But, when he was asked, "what does the N.Y. State Health Department do to resolve language barriers in hospitals," he said that he didn’t have enough time to give proper answers, since he was preparing for a meeting. Kenny promised to call back in a few minutes, but he never did.

After five more attempts to reach Kenny by phone, the receptionist at the N.Y. State Health Department gave various excuses: "He (Kenny) is on the other line and he is too busy." An e-mail address for the reporter was also left with the receptionist so that Kenny could just send answers to the question, but he never responded.

"We are tired of hospitals that talk about addressing ethnic disparities in health, but then have no reasonable system in place to communicate with so many of their patients," Romain said. "It is time to demand change."

"When health is involved, language shouldn't be an issue. Whether you are white, black, yellow or brown, your body is just as the same as everyone's," said Janus Trembicki, 51, a Polish immigrant. "When in pain or in need of good care, I'm sure that the body speaks a universal language."

* Most of the accounts of the patients that appear in this story were presented at a press conference on equal health access held Nov. 24 in Manhattan, and translated into English by several community leaders who participated in the event. Also, Adam Gurvitch of the New York Immigration Coalition helped the reporter in supplying background information for this story.