Most of the letters that ER physicians receive from patients are usually complimentary; the critical ones are usually directed to the administration. Understandably, these letters are usually polarized to either extreme praise or extreme criticism. After all, who writes a letter to Ford Motor Company to say that their vehicles are just so-so?

Occasionally, a physician will receive a letter that is decidedly unusual. One of my colleagues received a series of letters from an anonymous woman he had apparently seen as a patient in the ER. This woman evidently believed that mystery was essential to romance because she never gave her name, address, or telephone number. Instead, she gave a series of cryptic messages that would reveal her identity, if he could correctly decipher the clues.

Mark showed the letters to me, commenting, “I think women are too much of a challenge as it is, even without this solve-the-mystery puzzle. Look at ‘em, Pez. What do you think?”

“I think she's been looking at too many old liquor ads in magazines,” I said.

“Why is that?”

“Remember those old ads in which a liquor company gave clues as to where they'd hidden a case of their booze? I can't recall the company, but they stashed the stuff in some rather exotic locations. I think that was intended to heighten the sense of adventure and excitement, and thereby make their product seem more desirable than it really was.”

“So you're saying she's a dog?”

“Who knows? Have you recently seen any patients who are beautiful women?”

“In the ER? No one who comes to mind.”

“Anyone flirt with you recently?” I asked.

“Nobody that I know of.”

“What sort of clues is she giving you?”

“Tough ones. Do they make any sense to you?”

I read the letters and nothing rang a bell. “You'll just have to wait. Sooner or later she will say something so you can find her.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Of course. She wants to be found. She just wants the chase to be a challenge.”

“Do you think she'll be worth it?”

“Maybe, but it's been my experience that women who overdo the “chase me” game are attempting to compensate for perceived deficiencies in their self-worth.”

As I predicted, the clues became much more transparent as the weeks progressed, culminating in an instruction to be in a certain movie theater seat on a given day and time. Might as well cancel the consultation with Albert Einstein.

Mark asked me what I thought about this instruction. “I think you're either going to get lucky, or have your brains blown out. In any case, it will be a memorable evening!”

“Gee, I never considered that before. What if she is a real psycho?”

“Well, you're a doctor. You can commit her,” I said in jest.

“Oh, great, just what I need: a scandal.”

“Are you going to the theater?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? Of course I am! I have to find out who she is. It's driving me nuts.”

Flash-forward three days. “Hi, Mark, I see you're still alive. Did you meet her?”

“Yes I did.”

“What does she look like?” I inquired.

“Fairly cute. Not gorgeous, but attractive.”

“Did she seem nutty?”

“No, just playful, in a teasing sort of way.”

“Is she intelligent?”

“She seems bright.”

“So what happened? What did you do after the show?”

“I took her home.”

“You took her to your place?”

“No, I took her to her place.”

“And how did it end up?”

“She's grounded.”

I was perplexed. “She's grounded?”

“Yes, she's grounded. She is 16 years old. Her parents thanked me for bringing her home, and then they started yelling at her.”

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