“Would you like to avoid a stroke?” Dr. Gandhi asked. “Would you like to avoid not being able to speak because half of your face is paralyzed? Would you like to use both sides of your body? No, you will stay here tonight so that we can keep you stable and do the fasting cholesterol test in the morning, also very important.” He liked his job, you could tell.

Dr. Gandhi left the room, and the rest of us—me, Barb, Oscar, Boone—waited to see who would come up with something to say. Viridian had closed her eyes. When she opened them and saw us all staring, she said, “You people look like the wages of sin.”

“It’s not that bad,” Oscar said. “It’s actually great. Well not great. But entirely treatable.”

Barb said, “You could see a different doctor if you wanted. A holistic doctor. A naturopath.”

“Doctors,” Viridian said, dismissing them. She had a spasm of coughing and we all stared at our feet until it cleared. Oscar spoke up.

“Yoga and vitamins are great, but they can’t handle everything. How’s your head?”

Viridian touched the back of her scalp. “Still hurts.”

“The ambulance crew seemed nice,” Oscar went on encouragingly. “Very professional.”

Viridian said nothing. Barb said, “I’m sure they’ll take good care of you here.”

“Once they start in on you? They don’t stop until they’ve diagnosed you with five more horrible things. That’s just what they do.”

“Now don’t be a butthead, honey,” Oscar said.

This roused her so that she sat up, fixing him with her blue stare. “I don’t believe I have ever in my life been called a butthead.”

“It was a cautionary statement.”

“This morning I was a normal person. Now I’m a medical curiosity.”

“You’re just tired,” Barb said. “Everything seems worse when you’re tired.”

Viridian didn’t answer. Neither Boone nor I spoke. I didn’t think Viridian needed any more piling on, and maybe Boone didn’t consider himself enough of a son to start telling her what to do. I expected that things would turn out all right, and Viridian would get over her distress, and do what the doctor said. I was relieved that there didn’t seem to be anything worse wrong with her. High blood pressure, I thought lots of people had that.

Barb said they ought to find Viridian something to eat, it might be a while before dinner, and what were the odds of finding anything healthy? I said there was always a veggie burger on the patient menu. Everybody looked at me, as if they’d just now remembered I was there.

“My mom works here,” I said. “In medical records.”

“Carla,” Viridian said to me. “I’m sorry I had to ruin your day.”

“Please don’t worry about it.”