“MY DAUGHTER NEEDS A COLONOSCOPY,” the mother kept repeating.
“She’s stable,” I said, not trying to argue, but merely trying to soothe her. “Her blood test results are not critical.”
“They keep telling us that,” she said, inhaling deeply, eyes boring into me. Veronica, the daughter in question, lay on the stretcher observing.
Twenty-seven years old, slim, and soft-spoken, Veronica had come into the ER by herself with a complaint of rectal bleeding. It had been early evening; the surge of patients was peaking. She’d explained: Not a lot of bleeding, just some drops, going on for weeks. I’d wondered — as ER docs often do — how this was now an emergency.
“So, tell me again when it started?” I asked.
“Three months ago,” she answered.
“Three months ago?…