My Daughter Was 15 When She Finally Looked Me in the Eye and Whispered, “I Don’t Tell Dad When I’m Hurting Anymore. He Says I Only Do It for Attention.” The Next Afternoon, I Checked Her Out of School and Drove Her to the Hospital Without a Word to My Husband. Halfway Through the Scan, the Technician Went Completely Quiet.
I drew in a deep breath, glanced at my scared child lying on the paper sheets, and typed back a cool, direct answer.
“We’re at St.
Mark Memorial Hospital right now because Paige is getting an emergency evaluation for her stomach pain.”
His reply came back in less than thirty seconds, revealing the pure irritation he felt about the whole situation.
“Have you lost your mind, Laura?
I told you weeks ago there was absolutely nothing wrong with her, so bring her home right now.”
“The doctors here just pulled up the emergency records from five weeks ago, Gregory, and you and I are going to have a very serious talk about why you kept that file from me.”
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