Disclaimer: I don’t own House. I just own a burning desire to follow Hugh Laurie around the set and fetching whatever he needs o wants. Forever.
“Letting Go – A Winter Fanisode”
Act Four
FADE IN
Wilson looked closely at the small freckle on the left shoulder of the patient in Exam Room 2. He took extra time to make sure it wasn’t cancerous. This was a consult, after all and he needed to be 100% sure so that his hospital would be well represented.
“It looks like it’s just a freckle,” Wilson dicho somewhat cautiously. “Probably from too much sun.” He looked along the patient’s back to her other shoulder and down her spine. There were a few más freckles, but Wilson was mostly examining the soft tanned skin. He quickly glanced downward to check the patient’s lower back, his eyes widening when he noticed the thin red line of the thong. The correa, tanga gave him ample opportunity to see all he needed to see. Embarassed, he brought his eyes back up to the small freckle on her shoulder. “You probably should wear a stronger sunscreen o don’t go in the sun at all.”
His patient giggled. “I know, I should be más careful,” the patient said, “but a tan looks better under those bright stage lights. The guys tip better if tu have a tan.” The patient looked over her shoulder at Wilson, trying to catch his eye. She flipped a lock of blond hair away from her face.
“I don’t doubt it,” Wilson said, his voice catching as his eyes met the patient’s.
“See, that’s a real business woman,” came House’s voice from in front of the patient. “Always thinking of the…bottom line.” House was leaning against the far wall, watching his fellow doctor conduct his consult. He had already had his turn checking her lovely body for any más suspicious freckles, but he had thought it necessary to call in an oncologist for a consult. Just in case.
The blond patient turned her attention to House. “Yeah, right. That’s what I tell the other girls at the club. tu need to do what tu can to bring in the cash,” she said. She nodded emphatically. “That’s why I got the boob job. I consider it an investment. An investment in me!”
“I think the Plastic Surgeons of America just got their new motto!” House dicho triumphantly. The patient smiled at House, who congenially returned the smile.
Wilson came around to the front of the exam mesa, tabla to talk to the patient. He smiled calmly. “Well, it looks like tu just have some freckles, most likely caused por the sun, but tu should watch them. tu were smart to come in to have it checked out.”
“I agree,” House dicho quietly.
Wilson ignored him.
“Oh, that’s awesome,” dicho the patient. “I was so worried I’d have to give up my job. I do enjoy it.”
“I’m sure tu do,” Wilson said.
House cleared his throat. “Oh, wait, Candy, tu didn’t let Dr. Wilson exam the other freckle tu came in to have checked out.”
Candy opened her mouth is surprise. “Oh, my goodness, tu didn’t, Dr. There’s another freckle I’m worried about right above my bellybutton,” she dicho and quickly released the hold on the hospital vestido she had been clutching to her chest. The vestido dropped down onto the ground, fully revealing to Wilson and House Candy’s … investments.
Wilson just stared as House’s smile increased megafold.
“Wow,” Wilson dicho quietly. “That was a very good investment, Candy, very good.”
Candy smiled proudly.
Ten minutos later Wilson and House came out of exam room 2, both wearing small smiles. They stood for a moment out in front of the door. dulces was still inside, putting her clothing back on. The exam on the stomach freckle had revealed only another innocent freckle, but dulces assured Wilson and House that she would come back to the hospital if the freckles changed so they could check them out. Or, she had said, they could come por her work and check them out on a más regular basis. Wilson still held the flier dulces had handed him from her purse.
Wilson looked down at the flier. It was for a strip club called “Jugz.” Candy’s picture was front and center. Wilson shook his head.
“Merry Christmas, Wilson,” House said, laughing. He held onto the patient chart. He had known immediately that Candy’s freckles were nothing serious, but had also known immediately that his lonely friend could use a picker-upper in his boring morning. dulces had been only too willing to wait for a consult. Just to be safe.
Wilson again shook his head. “You are unbelievable,” dicho the professional Dr. Wilson, then the buddy Wilson laughed. “And thanks.”
House looked at the flier Wilson was holding. “Maybe tu should go check in on Candy,” he said. “You do have some free time these days.” House looked closely at Wilson to catch his reaction.
Wilson just shrugged. “Maybe,” he said.
House was pleased. Wilson hadn’t committed to it, but he also hadn’t completely dismissed it. It was a new development in Wilson’s personality since Sam left him. He didn’t seem so bottled up and cautious anymore. Sure, he had been devastated when Sam left, but Wilson also seemed to be easily accepting the change. And although it was subtle, Wilson was mostrando a lot más flexibility in his attitude and manner. Wilson, it appeared, had dado up on brooding. House liked this a lot.
“You could come,” Wilson said.
“Not likely,” House said, “I’m still trying to wipe the whole prostitute massage thing off my record. But give me a mes o two and I might be able to go with you.”
“Go with tu where?”
Both House and Wilson turned towards the sound of Cuddy’s voice. She was standing at the nurse’s station. House was sure she hadn’t been there the whole time. Maybe. He gave Cuddy a smile. Wilson quickly stuffed the flier into his pocket. Wilson had maybe dado up brooding and second-guessing but his ability to look totally guilty at any dado moment would always haunt him. He was able to muster up his own smile but couldn’t hold Cuddy’s gaze.
“To a strip club,” House dicho matter-of-factly. “There’s a new one Wilson wants to check out.”
Wilson’s face went white followed por a bright shade of red. It was quite a site.
Cuddy laughed. “Very funny. You’re almost as funny as our prankster,” she dicho as she walked over. Her face negated her words. She obviously did not think it was funny. “I need tu to go visit Margaret Pettigrew immediately.”
At that moment the door to exam room 2 opened and Candy, now fully dressed, well at least as fully dressed as when she had came to the clinic, walked out. She had her capa and bolso, monedero over her arm. She stopped and smiled when she saw her two doctors still in the hallway.
“Oh, thanks again, doctors,” she dicho to House and Wilson. “I feel so much better knowing all those freckles were just freckles. Whew!”
Cuddy took a look at the peaches and cream complexion of dulces and realized immediately that those just freckles were located in places not so easily seen. Cuddy looked with dagger eyes at House and Wilson. She took a couple of steps back as dulces walked through the middle of House and Wilson. She squeezed their arms as she brushed past them then turned toward Wilson. “Don’t forget that our Happy hora is all día on Thursdays,” she dicho softly. She smiled, then turned and left the clinic.
All three watched her leave. Cuddy then turned back to House and Wilson, neither of whom made eye contact with her. When House finally looked at Cuddy he couldn’t help but smile at her anger. He hoped she was mad at him más on the professional level then the personal one. He decided to try to throw some blame. “I had to call Dr. Wilson in because I didn’t feel qualified o comfortable to examine and diagnose certain freckles.”
Wilson shot a look at House. House had taken his turn too checking out those freckles. Traitor! Wilson looked back at Cuddy. He felt the need to explain. “The patient had a real concern. The freckles could have been melanoma related.” Wilson paused. “They were definitely sun related.” He turned to House. “She definitely has had too much sun. Everywhere.”
House almost laughed. “Definitely,” he agreed.
Cuddy stared them down as she weighed the options of anger and discipline. Quickly realizing that repainting the leopards’ spots would be a bigger task then she had time for right now, she decided to go with basic punishment. “Four más clinic hours for each of you,” she said. She waited for their nods of acceptance then continued on with her reason for seeking House out. “I need tu to go see Dr. Schaeffer’s mother. Now.”
House sighed. Not this again. “Look, I am completely on parte superior, arriba of things. I know what her last vitals were. I know what the latest test results indicated. Hell, I know what she ordered for breakfast.”
Wilson raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
House shrugged. “Denver omelet. Go check the chart.”
Cuddy shook her head. Dealing with these two grown men was oft times más difficult and headache-inducing then dealing with her preschooler at home. “Look, I know tu know, but Dr. Schaeffer wants to see tu physically in the room. She’s not used to your ‘in the clouds, omniscient approach to doctoring.’ She needs to see tu in the room to know you’re doing your job. All she sees are the treatments that aren’t working for diagnoses that are not right.”
“We all are doing our jobs,” House said, quickly defending his team. “You know the process.”
Cuddy stepped towards House. “Yes, I know the process, but I need tu change the process, just a bit. Just for now.” She laid her hand on House’s arm.
House looked at her hand, realizing he was getting manipulated. He shook his head, “It’s a slippery slope, Cuddy. It starts with this one patient and then before tu know it I actually have to start personally meeting and treating all my patients myself.”
“Slippery slope,” Wilson dicho quietly.
Cuddy glared at Wilson. He shrank back. Cuddy turned her glare to House. “Visit Margaret Pettigrew por lunchtime.”
The two stared at each other in silent battle. House thought of swapping this favor for his escritorio fantasy, yet he didn’t want that fantasía fulfilled on a bet. But agreeing to do this for her might grease the skids later when he approached her again.
Finally, House nodded. “Fine, I’ll go right now,” he said.
Cuddy softly smiled and nodded. “Thank you. But tu have two más hours in the clinic. tu can go up when tu finish your shift.” She squeezed his arm. “Nice try though.” She flashed another smile of victory at both House and Wilson and left the clinic to complete other administrator duties.
“You should have traded her for the desk,” Wilson said, smiling.
“I thought about it, but,” House replied.
“Not the right way to mark off that task,” Wilson said, as always understanding House better than House himself often did. House nodded. He walked over to the nurse’s station and put Candy’s file in the “done” pile. Wilson walked up past him as he too left the clinic. He turned back towards House just before stepping out the door. “How ‘bout two Thursdays from now?” he called out.
House smiled. “I’ll drive.”
Both men laughed as they went back to work.
Taub sat lectura last month’s People magazine in the dialysis room at PPTH. He had come to pick up Margaret, who due to her kidneys shutting down had required immediate dialysis. Taub had arrived just a bit early and now sat waiting for her to complete this cycle. If they didn’t figure out just what was wrong Margaret’s future held many más of these visits to dialysis. If she lived through it.
“My daughter told me tu were one of the doctors that went to my house.”
Taub was startled to hear Margaret’s voice. He dropped the magazine to find Margaret looking at him from her propped up stretcher, the dialysis machine churning away beside her. She had been asleep when Taub arrived, o so he had thought.
He set the magazine back on the table. “Yes, Dr. Chase and I went to check for toxins, mold, that kind of stuff,” Taub said. He looked sincere when he then said, “I’m sorry for not asking tu for permission. It’s just something we need to do.”
Margaret nodded. “I understand. I just,” she hesitated. “I’m sorry for the condition tu found my inicial in.” She looked away, embarrassed.
Taub shook his head, “No, it was very clean.” He smiled at Margaret’s shocked expression. In his years of doing this job he had seen some very nasty apartments and bizarre behavior. He had decided that if it wasn’t hurting anyone he didn’t care what his patients lives were like. “Yes, I’ve been in worse. Even with all the boxes.”
Margaret looked grateful. She spoke quietly. “My daughter thinks I’m senile. She’s so embarrassed por all the….stuff.” Taub nodded. Margaret took Taub’s indifference as understanding and felt seguro to talk further. “My parents died and I couldn’t find certain papers, some personal things right away. When I did find them I needed to keep them in seguro places. I had never had to worry about it. My parents took care of everything,” she paused. He voice was quieter when she spoke again. “You never know when you’ll need something. Things get lost so quickly. People leave so quickly.” She turned away and pretended to study the far muro of the room before turning back to Taub. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “After tu lose something tu should hold onto things más carefully. Right?”
Taub saw the nurse coming over to shut down the machine but he took a segundo and placed his hand on parte superior, arriba of Margaret’s. “Right. tu should.”
Margaret nodded gratefully and closed her eyes. She fell back asleep and remained that way as the nurse unhooked the machine and Taub wheeled her back to her room.
House was walking down the corridor to his dreaded meeting with his patient and her mother. He didn’t hate meeting patients, they just usually bored him to death. It was their medical mysteries that held his attention. Unless the patient was mentally unbalanced, House found the whole “normal process” tedious. Oh, the things he did for his woman.
He approached the room just as the click of the public address system sounded in the hallways.
“Attention all visitors. We have an urgent message for a current visitor. Would Mrs. Gopeehy, Anita Gopeehy, please return to the lobby reception desk? Anita Gopeehy, please return to the lobby reception desk. Once again. Attention: Anita Gopeehy.” The speaker clicked the microphone off.
House laughed and shook his head. Cuddy wouldn’t find that joke amusing either. How did she expect to track the prankster down if he had to go visit his patient? He couldn’t be in two places at once, no matter what the current rumors were.
He entered the patient’s room and was relieved to see only Taub there with Margaret. He was marking down her latest visit to dialysis. Dr. Schaeffer was no where to be seen.
“Awesome!” House dicho excitedly. This was going to be easier than he thought. Taub looked up at him. “Tell Schaeffer I was in to check on her mother.” He spun on his heal and began to walk out.
He almost ran right into Dr. Schaeffer. She had asked a nurse to page her when either her mother returned o Dr. House showed up. Luckily for her, both happened at the same time.
“Dr. House,” Schaeffer said, moving around him and through the doorway. She walked over to her mother’s bedside. She looked at Taub, who automatically handed her the chart. House walked back into the room as Schaeffer looked through the chart. She finally looked up at House. “So what’s the diagnosis now. It looks like auto-immune has been ruled out. PV also seems to be wrong.”
House walked over and took the chart. Schaeffer, confident that she had actually caught House off guard, thought House was going to read through it and catch himself up to speed. Instead he closed it without even glancing it and handed it back to Taub.
“Yes, I get it, Dr. House,” Schaeffer said. She looked at House with disgust. “You don’t need charts o patient visits to cure people. tu think you’re some kind of God. In fact, the only reason you’re even here is because you’re sleeping with Cuddy and she has tu por the short hairs.” Margaret laughed as both Taub and House raised their eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, I know. I had heard rumors. First Cuddy adopted a child, as if running a hospital efficiently wasn’t a high enough priority o enough to fill her time. Those two responsibilities were enough to sink anyone but then she begins a relationship with the most difficult doctor in the world, who is also her subordinate. She’s either a big idiot o has the balls of giant.”
“I can assure tu that she most definitely does not have balls; giant o otherwise, and she is no idiot,” House dicho calmly. He had initially decided to take the high road and not engage with Schaeffer and her obvious need to be in charge. But insulting Cuddy did not sit well with House. At least he would be polite and wait until Schaeffer was done with her tirade before he ripped her a new one. He smiled at Schaeffer.
Taub saw with experienced eyes the shift in House’s demeanor and he immediately began to think of a quick escape ploy. He glanced over at Margaret who had been awakened por her daughter’s angry voice. Dr. Schaeffer may be embarrassed about her mother’s hoarding but it was completely obvious to Taub that Margaret was equally embarrassed about her daughter’s attitude. Taub decided to stay just to make sure Margaret didn’t get caught in the crossfire.
“Or maybe Cuddy’s so overtaxed that she just allows deplorable behavior from all of her employees. I mean, she can’t keep every ball in the air all the time. She’s bound to drop one. o two.” Margaret continued on about Cuddy’s lack of power and House’s deplorable doctoring skills, but House tuned her out. He had already thought of three amazing insults and a follow-up personal attack when he took a quick look at Margaret. He had watched as Taub protectively made his way back to her bedside. She had looked distressed, embarrassed at her daughter’s display, but she now seemed to be staring off into space. House looked over at her pulse/ox monitor. The numbers began to lower. Conversely, House saw her blood pressure rise. This could be just a reaction to her daughter’s display, thought House. Then he saw Margaret seem to lose her breath.
“I don’t care if tu aren’t even willing to make eye contact with me, House,” he heard Schaeffer say. She continued tirade but ignored her and started to walk over to Margaret’s bed. Taub had noticed the change in stats when he saw House looking at the monitors. Taub turned to Margaret again. He was looking when Margaret gasped for air again. Schaeffer continued her rant unaware of the distress her mother was in. “I am talking to you, Dr. House,” she yelled, “don’t try to pretend to be a doctor to get out of it!”
House put his fingers on Margaret’s neck. “Pulse steady,” he said, but it was not reassuring to him. He looked at the pulse/ox again as the numbers dipped drastically. “Taub, get a bag resuscitator.”
“What is it, House?” Taub asked even as he did as House requested.
House shook his head. He took Margaret’s pulse once more. This time he could barely feel it. As his arm crossed over Margaret’s neck, she suddenly bolted upright and began coughing violently; blood flew everywhere, narrowly missing House’s face, but completely coating his chaqueta sleeve. “Damn!” He jumped back. “She’s throwing another clot!” he yelled at Taub. “Get a kit.” House limped to the medicine cabinet and quickly punched in a code. He grabbed a syringe of heparin and went back to Margaret’s cama where he injected the contents into her IV.
Schaeffer had noticed House’s lack of attention earlier, but had only realized her mother’s distress moments before Margaret had begun coughing up blood. Her face went white. “Mom? Oh, my gosh, mom?” She tried to get to Margaret’s side, but House pushed her out of the way.
Taub raced back to the cama with an intubation kit. He ripped it open and after handing it to House, pulled Margaret’s cama away from the wall. The action was accentuated por the sudden beeping of the stats monitor. Margaret gasped again and again for air then suddenly fell backwards onto the bed. House was waiting for her at the head of the bed. He grabbed ahold of her head and tried to tilt it back but couldn’t get it.
“Damn, I can’t get it open enough,” House muttered.
“She has rheumatoid arthritis,” Taub explained. “It’s worse in her neck and shoulders.”
“Figures,” House responded. He tried again.
Schaeffer frantically looked back and forth between House and Taub. A nurse had arrived as the alarms went off and held onto Schaeffer, keeping her out of the way. Taub, forgetting that the patient’s family member present was a doctor he began to explain what was going on. He soon realized he didn’t need to. Just then House yelled again. “Get me a trach kit. I can’t get in.”
House threw the intubation equipment down and moved to the side of the bed. He looked up at Schaeffer. He saw fear and panic. “Your mother had a pulmonary embolism. She just threw a clot. I think she’s going to throw another one.” He turned away from her when Taub handed him the kit.
Without taking time to guante up, House opened the kit and quickly removed the scalpel. Taub had already swiped the throat with a sterile wipe. House took the sharp cuchillo to Margaret’s throat. At the first cut, más blood from the coughing spasms spurted out onto House’s hands. Ignoring the mess, House continued to cut, eventually getting through the tough muscle and into the trachea. Leaving his finger in the hole, he grabbed the pipe and shoved it into Margaret’s neck. Taub immediately had the resuscitation bag and connected it to the tube. He began to squeeze the bag as House grabbed Taub’s stethoscope and listened to Margaret’s lungs.
He stood and turned to Schaeffer. Taub was already wheeling Margaret out of the room with a nurse’s help. “She’s got a lot of blood in her lungs. I think she threw más than one clot. They’ll take her straight up to surgery to get the rest.”
Schaeffer just stood there. She had seemed to have lost all of her poison. She stared back at House with vacant eyes. House looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood. His light blue camisa, camiseta sleeves where they poked out from his chaqueta were also soaked red and the evidence of Margaret’s initial bloody coughing covered House’s chaqueta sleeve to the elbow.
House shook his head. “And this is another reason why I never visit the patient.”
FADE OUT
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Thanks for reading.
“Letting Go – A Winter Fanisode”
Act Four
FADE IN
Wilson looked closely at the small freckle on the left shoulder of the patient in Exam Room 2. He took extra time to make sure it wasn’t cancerous. This was a consult, after all and he needed to be 100% sure so that his hospital would be well represented.
“It looks like it’s just a freckle,” Wilson dicho somewhat cautiously. “Probably from too much sun.” He looked along the patient’s back to her other shoulder and down her spine. There were a few más freckles, but Wilson was mostly examining the soft tanned skin. He quickly glanced downward to check the patient’s lower back, his eyes widening when he noticed the thin red line of the thong. The correa, tanga gave him ample opportunity to see all he needed to see. Embarassed, he brought his eyes back up to the small freckle on her shoulder. “You probably should wear a stronger sunscreen o don’t go in the sun at all.”
His patient giggled. “I know, I should be más careful,” the patient said, “but a tan looks better under those bright stage lights. The guys tip better if tu have a tan.” The patient looked over her shoulder at Wilson, trying to catch his eye. She flipped a lock of blond hair away from her face.
“I don’t doubt it,” Wilson said, his voice catching as his eyes met the patient’s.
“See, that’s a real business woman,” came House’s voice from in front of the patient. “Always thinking of the…bottom line.” House was leaning against the far wall, watching his fellow doctor conduct his consult. He had already had his turn checking her lovely body for any más suspicious freckles, but he had thought it necessary to call in an oncologist for a consult. Just in case.
The blond patient turned her attention to House. “Yeah, right. That’s what I tell the other girls at the club. tu need to do what tu can to bring in the cash,” she said. She nodded emphatically. “That’s why I got the boob job. I consider it an investment. An investment in me!”
“I think the Plastic Surgeons of America just got their new motto!” House dicho triumphantly. The patient smiled at House, who congenially returned the smile.
Wilson came around to the front of the exam mesa, tabla to talk to the patient. He smiled calmly. “Well, it looks like tu just have some freckles, most likely caused por the sun, but tu should watch them. tu were smart to come in to have it checked out.”
“I agree,” House dicho quietly.
Wilson ignored him.
“Oh, that’s awesome,” dicho the patient. “I was so worried I’d have to give up my job. I do enjoy it.”
“I’m sure tu do,” Wilson said.
House cleared his throat. “Oh, wait, Candy, tu didn’t let Dr. Wilson exam the other freckle tu came in to have checked out.”
Candy opened her mouth is surprise. “Oh, my goodness, tu didn’t, Dr. There’s another freckle I’m worried about right above my bellybutton,” she dicho and quickly released the hold on the hospital vestido she had been clutching to her chest. The vestido dropped down onto the ground, fully revealing to Wilson and House Candy’s … investments.
Wilson just stared as House’s smile increased megafold.
“Wow,” Wilson dicho quietly. “That was a very good investment, Candy, very good.”
Candy smiled proudly.
Ten minutos later Wilson and House came out of exam room 2, both wearing small smiles. They stood for a moment out in front of the door. dulces was still inside, putting her clothing back on. The exam on the stomach freckle had revealed only another innocent freckle, but dulces assured Wilson and House that she would come back to the hospital if the freckles changed so they could check them out. Or, she had said, they could come por her work and check them out on a más regular basis. Wilson still held the flier dulces had handed him from her purse.
Wilson looked down at the flier. It was for a strip club called “Jugz.” Candy’s picture was front and center. Wilson shook his head.
“Merry Christmas, Wilson,” House said, laughing. He held onto the patient chart. He had known immediately that Candy’s freckles were nothing serious, but had also known immediately that his lonely friend could use a picker-upper in his boring morning. dulces had been only too willing to wait for a consult. Just to be safe.
Wilson again shook his head. “You are unbelievable,” dicho the professional Dr. Wilson, then the buddy Wilson laughed. “And thanks.”
House looked at the flier Wilson was holding. “Maybe tu should go check in on Candy,” he said. “You do have some free time these days.” House looked closely at Wilson to catch his reaction.
Wilson just shrugged. “Maybe,” he said.
House was pleased. Wilson hadn’t committed to it, but he also hadn’t completely dismissed it. It was a new development in Wilson’s personality since Sam left him. He didn’t seem so bottled up and cautious anymore. Sure, he had been devastated when Sam left, but Wilson also seemed to be easily accepting the change. And although it was subtle, Wilson was mostrando a lot más flexibility in his attitude and manner. Wilson, it appeared, had dado up on brooding. House liked this a lot.
“You could come,” Wilson said.
“Not likely,” House said, “I’m still trying to wipe the whole prostitute massage thing off my record. But give me a mes o two and I might be able to go with you.”
“Go with tu where?”
Both House and Wilson turned towards the sound of Cuddy’s voice. She was standing at the nurse’s station. House was sure she hadn’t been there the whole time. Maybe. He gave Cuddy a smile. Wilson quickly stuffed the flier into his pocket. Wilson had maybe dado up brooding and second-guessing but his ability to look totally guilty at any dado moment would always haunt him. He was able to muster up his own smile but couldn’t hold Cuddy’s gaze.
“To a strip club,” House dicho matter-of-factly. “There’s a new one Wilson wants to check out.”
Wilson’s face went white followed por a bright shade of red. It was quite a site.
Cuddy laughed. “Very funny. You’re almost as funny as our prankster,” she dicho as she walked over. Her face negated her words. She obviously did not think it was funny. “I need tu to go visit Margaret Pettigrew immediately.”
At that moment the door to exam room 2 opened and Candy, now fully dressed, well at least as fully dressed as when she had came to the clinic, walked out. She had her capa and bolso, monedero over her arm. She stopped and smiled when she saw her two doctors still in the hallway.
“Oh, thanks again, doctors,” she dicho to House and Wilson. “I feel so much better knowing all those freckles were just freckles. Whew!”
Cuddy took a look at the peaches and cream complexion of dulces and realized immediately that those just freckles were located in places not so easily seen. Cuddy looked with dagger eyes at House and Wilson. She took a couple of steps back as dulces walked through the middle of House and Wilson. She squeezed their arms as she brushed past them then turned toward Wilson. “Don’t forget that our Happy hora is all día on Thursdays,” she dicho softly. She smiled, then turned and left the clinic.
All three watched her leave. Cuddy then turned back to House and Wilson, neither of whom made eye contact with her. When House finally looked at Cuddy he couldn’t help but smile at her anger. He hoped she was mad at him más on the professional level then the personal one. He decided to try to throw some blame. “I had to call Dr. Wilson in because I didn’t feel qualified o comfortable to examine and diagnose certain freckles.”
Wilson shot a look at House. House had taken his turn too checking out those freckles. Traitor! Wilson looked back at Cuddy. He felt the need to explain. “The patient had a real concern. The freckles could have been melanoma related.” Wilson paused. “They were definitely sun related.” He turned to House. “She definitely has had too much sun. Everywhere.”
House almost laughed. “Definitely,” he agreed.
Cuddy stared them down as she weighed the options of anger and discipline. Quickly realizing that repainting the leopards’ spots would be a bigger task then she had time for right now, she decided to go with basic punishment. “Four más clinic hours for each of you,” she said. She waited for their nods of acceptance then continued on with her reason for seeking House out. “I need tu to go see Dr. Schaeffer’s mother. Now.”
House sighed. Not this again. “Look, I am completely on parte superior, arriba of things. I know what her last vitals were. I know what the latest test results indicated. Hell, I know what she ordered for breakfast.”
Wilson raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
House shrugged. “Denver omelet. Go check the chart.”
Cuddy shook her head. Dealing with these two grown men was oft times más difficult and headache-inducing then dealing with her preschooler at home. “Look, I know tu know, but Dr. Schaeffer wants to see tu physically in the room. She’s not used to your ‘in the clouds, omniscient approach to doctoring.’ She needs to see tu in the room to know you’re doing your job. All she sees are the treatments that aren’t working for diagnoses that are not right.”
“We all are doing our jobs,” House said, quickly defending his team. “You know the process.”
Cuddy stepped towards House. “Yes, I know the process, but I need tu change the process, just a bit. Just for now.” She laid her hand on House’s arm.
House looked at her hand, realizing he was getting manipulated. He shook his head, “It’s a slippery slope, Cuddy. It starts with this one patient and then before tu know it I actually have to start personally meeting and treating all my patients myself.”
“Slippery slope,” Wilson dicho quietly.
Cuddy glared at Wilson. He shrank back. Cuddy turned her glare to House. “Visit Margaret Pettigrew por lunchtime.”
The two stared at each other in silent battle. House thought of swapping this favor for his escritorio fantasy, yet he didn’t want that fantasía fulfilled on a bet. But agreeing to do this for her might grease the skids later when he approached her again.
Finally, House nodded. “Fine, I’ll go right now,” he said.
Cuddy softly smiled and nodded. “Thank you. But tu have two más hours in the clinic. tu can go up when tu finish your shift.” She squeezed his arm. “Nice try though.” She flashed another smile of victory at both House and Wilson and left the clinic to complete other administrator duties.
“You should have traded her for the desk,” Wilson said, smiling.
“I thought about it, but,” House replied.
“Not the right way to mark off that task,” Wilson said, as always understanding House better than House himself often did. House nodded. He walked over to the nurse’s station and put Candy’s file in the “done” pile. Wilson walked up past him as he too left the clinic. He turned back towards House just before stepping out the door. “How ‘bout two Thursdays from now?” he called out.
House smiled. “I’ll drive.”
Both men laughed as they went back to work.
Taub sat lectura last month’s People magazine in the dialysis room at PPTH. He had come to pick up Margaret, who due to her kidneys shutting down had required immediate dialysis. Taub had arrived just a bit early and now sat waiting for her to complete this cycle. If they didn’t figure out just what was wrong Margaret’s future held many más of these visits to dialysis. If she lived through it.
“My daughter told me tu were one of the doctors that went to my house.”
Taub was startled to hear Margaret’s voice. He dropped the magazine to find Margaret looking at him from her propped up stretcher, the dialysis machine churning away beside her. She had been asleep when Taub arrived, o so he had thought.
He set the magazine back on the table. “Yes, Dr. Chase and I went to check for toxins, mold, that kind of stuff,” Taub said. He looked sincere when he then said, “I’m sorry for not asking tu for permission. It’s just something we need to do.”
Margaret nodded. “I understand. I just,” she hesitated. “I’m sorry for the condition tu found my inicial in.” She looked away, embarrassed.
Taub shook his head, “No, it was very clean.” He smiled at Margaret’s shocked expression. In his years of doing this job he had seen some very nasty apartments and bizarre behavior. He had decided that if it wasn’t hurting anyone he didn’t care what his patients lives were like. “Yes, I’ve been in worse. Even with all the boxes.”
Margaret looked grateful. She spoke quietly. “My daughter thinks I’m senile. She’s so embarrassed por all the….stuff.” Taub nodded. Margaret took Taub’s indifference as understanding and felt seguro to talk further. “My parents died and I couldn’t find certain papers, some personal things right away. When I did find them I needed to keep them in seguro places. I had never had to worry about it. My parents took care of everything,” she paused. He voice was quieter when she spoke again. “You never know when you’ll need something. Things get lost so quickly. People leave so quickly.” She turned away and pretended to study the far muro of the room before turning back to Taub. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “After tu lose something tu should hold onto things más carefully. Right?”
Taub saw the nurse coming over to shut down the machine but he took a segundo and placed his hand on parte superior, arriba of Margaret’s. “Right. tu should.”
Margaret nodded gratefully and closed her eyes. She fell back asleep and remained that way as the nurse unhooked the machine and Taub wheeled her back to her room.
House was walking down the corridor to his dreaded meeting with his patient and her mother. He didn’t hate meeting patients, they just usually bored him to death. It was their medical mysteries that held his attention. Unless the patient was mentally unbalanced, House found the whole “normal process” tedious. Oh, the things he did for his woman.
He approached the room just as the click of the public address system sounded in the hallways.
“Attention all visitors. We have an urgent message for a current visitor. Would Mrs. Gopeehy, Anita Gopeehy, please return to the lobby reception desk? Anita Gopeehy, please return to the lobby reception desk. Once again. Attention: Anita Gopeehy.” The speaker clicked the microphone off.
House laughed and shook his head. Cuddy wouldn’t find that joke amusing either. How did she expect to track the prankster down if he had to go visit his patient? He couldn’t be in two places at once, no matter what the current rumors were.
He entered the patient’s room and was relieved to see only Taub there with Margaret. He was marking down her latest visit to dialysis. Dr. Schaeffer was no where to be seen.
“Awesome!” House dicho excitedly. This was going to be easier than he thought. Taub looked up at him. “Tell Schaeffer I was in to check on her mother.” He spun on his heal and began to walk out.
He almost ran right into Dr. Schaeffer. She had asked a nurse to page her when either her mother returned o Dr. House showed up. Luckily for her, both happened at the same time.
“Dr. House,” Schaeffer said, moving around him and through the doorway. She walked over to her mother’s bedside. She looked at Taub, who automatically handed her the chart. House walked back into the room as Schaeffer looked through the chart. She finally looked up at House. “So what’s the diagnosis now. It looks like auto-immune has been ruled out. PV also seems to be wrong.”
House walked over and took the chart. Schaeffer, confident that she had actually caught House off guard, thought House was going to read through it and catch himself up to speed. Instead he closed it without even glancing it and handed it back to Taub.
“Yes, I get it, Dr. House,” Schaeffer said. She looked at House with disgust. “You don’t need charts o patient visits to cure people. tu think you’re some kind of God. In fact, the only reason you’re even here is because you’re sleeping with Cuddy and she has tu por the short hairs.” Margaret laughed as both Taub and House raised their eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, I know. I had heard rumors. First Cuddy adopted a child, as if running a hospital efficiently wasn’t a high enough priority o enough to fill her time. Those two responsibilities were enough to sink anyone but then she begins a relationship with the most difficult doctor in the world, who is also her subordinate. She’s either a big idiot o has the balls of giant.”
“I can assure tu that she most definitely does not have balls; giant o otherwise, and she is no idiot,” House dicho calmly. He had initially decided to take the high road and not engage with Schaeffer and her obvious need to be in charge. But insulting Cuddy did not sit well with House. At least he would be polite and wait until Schaeffer was done with her tirade before he ripped her a new one. He smiled at Schaeffer.
Taub saw with experienced eyes the shift in House’s demeanor and he immediately began to think of a quick escape ploy. He glanced over at Margaret who had been awakened por her daughter’s angry voice. Dr. Schaeffer may be embarrassed about her mother’s hoarding but it was completely obvious to Taub that Margaret was equally embarrassed about her daughter’s attitude. Taub decided to stay just to make sure Margaret didn’t get caught in the crossfire.
“Or maybe Cuddy’s so overtaxed that she just allows deplorable behavior from all of her employees. I mean, she can’t keep every ball in the air all the time. She’s bound to drop one. o two.” Margaret continued on about Cuddy’s lack of power and House’s deplorable doctoring skills, but House tuned her out. He had already thought of three amazing insults and a follow-up personal attack when he took a quick look at Margaret. He had watched as Taub protectively made his way back to her bedside. She had looked distressed, embarrassed at her daughter’s display, but she now seemed to be staring off into space. House looked over at her pulse/ox monitor. The numbers began to lower. Conversely, House saw her blood pressure rise. This could be just a reaction to her daughter’s display, thought House. Then he saw Margaret seem to lose her breath.
“I don’t care if tu aren’t even willing to make eye contact with me, House,” he heard Schaeffer say. She continued tirade but ignored her and started to walk over to Margaret’s bed. Taub had noticed the change in stats when he saw House looking at the monitors. Taub turned to Margaret again. He was looking when Margaret gasped for air again. Schaeffer continued her rant unaware of the distress her mother was in. “I am talking to you, Dr. House,” she yelled, “don’t try to pretend to be a doctor to get out of it!”
House put his fingers on Margaret’s neck. “Pulse steady,” he said, but it was not reassuring to him. He looked at the pulse/ox again as the numbers dipped drastically. “Taub, get a bag resuscitator.”
“What is it, House?” Taub asked even as he did as House requested.
House shook his head. He took Margaret’s pulse once more. This time he could barely feel it. As his arm crossed over Margaret’s neck, she suddenly bolted upright and began coughing violently; blood flew everywhere, narrowly missing House’s face, but completely coating his chaqueta sleeve. “Damn!” He jumped back. “She’s throwing another clot!” he yelled at Taub. “Get a kit.” House limped to the medicine cabinet and quickly punched in a code. He grabbed a syringe of heparin and went back to Margaret’s cama where he injected the contents into her IV.
Schaeffer had noticed House’s lack of attention earlier, but had only realized her mother’s distress moments before Margaret had begun coughing up blood. Her face went white. “Mom? Oh, my gosh, mom?” She tried to get to Margaret’s side, but House pushed her out of the way.
Taub raced back to the cama with an intubation kit. He ripped it open and after handing it to House, pulled Margaret’s cama away from the wall. The action was accentuated por the sudden beeping of the stats monitor. Margaret gasped again and again for air then suddenly fell backwards onto the bed. House was waiting for her at the head of the bed. He grabbed ahold of her head and tried to tilt it back but couldn’t get it.
“Damn, I can’t get it open enough,” House muttered.
“She has rheumatoid arthritis,” Taub explained. “It’s worse in her neck and shoulders.”
“Figures,” House responded. He tried again.
Schaeffer frantically looked back and forth between House and Taub. A nurse had arrived as the alarms went off and held onto Schaeffer, keeping her out of the way. Taub, forgetting that the patient’s family member present was a doctor he began to explain what was going on. He soon realized he didn’t need to. Just then House yelled again. “Get me a trach kit. I can’t get in.”
House threw the intubation equipment down and moved to the side of the bed. He looked up at Schaeffer. He saw fear and panic. “Your mother had a pulmonary embolism. She just threw a clot. I think she’s going to throw another one.” He turned away from her when Taub handed him the kit.
Without taking time to guante up, House opened the kit and quickly removed the scalpel. Taub had already swiped the throat with a sterile wipe. House took the sharp cuchillo to Margaret’s throat. At the first cut, más blood from the coughing spasms spurted out onto House’s hands. Ignoring the mess, House continued to cut, eventually getting through the tough muscle and into the trachea. Leaving his finger in the hole, he grabbed the pipe and shoved it into Margaret’s neck. Taub immediately had the resuscitation bag and connected it to the tube. He began to squeeze the bag as House grabbed Taub’s stethoscope and listened to Margaret’s lungs.
He stood and turned to Schaeffer. Taub was already wheeling Margaret out of the room with a nurse’s help. “She’s got a lot of blood in her lungs. I think she threw más than one clot. They’ll take her straight up to surgery to get the rest.”
Schaeffer just stood there. She had seemed to have lost all of her poison. She stared back at House with vacant eyes. House looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood. His light blue camisa, camiseta sleeves where they poked out from his chaqueta were also soaked red and the evidence of Margaret’s initial bloody coughing covered House’s chaqueta sleeve to the elbow.
House shook his head. “And this is another reason why I never visit the patient.”
FADE OUT
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Thanks for reading.
