Sweating and belching, the young mother rolls into the Emergency Room at precisely one minute before midnight.

The attending physician’s eyebrows take on the appearance of his last patient’s electro-cardiogram a moment before her death.

“What is it this time?” he says.

“My temperature is rising,” she rasps.

“Sweat streams like rushing rivers down my face. My feet burn. I can hardly breathe and my mouth is as dry as the Grand Canyon in August.”

His eyebrows cinch. “Has the stabbing pain in your lungs worsened since last you were here?”