House M.D.
Food Poisoning
"It is true, sir. Everything you've heard up to now has been true."
"Then, what shall I do?"
"That's your call."
The patient is dying... Thought Dr. House. The patient... What the hell went wrong? What the hell did they do? What did I do? Cuddy's going to have my head for this one.
A horrid cough, a weak moan, and complete paralysis from his chest down. Those were some of the consequences to the latest treatment. The patient's heart began to not function on it's own. His breathing was shallow. Dr. House knew he needed to be on life support, but didn't want to interact with the patient again. He always prolonged meeting the patient, unless he was particularly interested.
He wasn't particularly interested.
Dr. Lisa Cuddy walked into House's office.
"Your patient is dying." She growled lowly.
"I know that already Cuddy." Dr. Gregory House growled back. "What do you expect me to do?"
"I expect you to find out what's wrong, and fix it!"
"Or what, you're going to have my head?"
"Perhaps." Dr. Cuddy growled.
House looked at Cuddy's breasts. He looked back at her face. "Can you have my head in your sacred place in your chest?" He asked tauntingly. Dr. House always attempted to make Cuddy miserable. He loved it when he made her miserable. What he didn't like was when he couldn't succeed.
"No, House, you can't."
"Aww..." House sighed.
"House! Enough of this! If you lose this patient, then you're going to get fired!"
His eyes widened. "You can't fire me."
"Watch me." Cuddy turned around and left.
House watched as she left. He watched her gluteus maximus as she walked. He was dragged out of fantasy as his Diagnostics team walked in.
"Dr. House." Dr. Robert Chase said.
"The patient needs to be put on life support." Dr. Allison Cameron said.
"Okay, so? Do it."
"House, the patient is requesting to see you." Dr. Eric Foreman said.
"Oh great. Why, so they can sue me?" House growled, grabbing his cane from beside his desk. He stood up quickly, feeling great pain in his thigh, like always. In response, he pulled out his bottle of Vicodin, taking two pills with out water.
"I swear, House, you're addicted to that stuff." Chase sighed.
"I do not have a pain management problem. I have a pain problem." House growled as he stuffed the bottle into his pocket of his one-size-too-short blazer.
Dr. Foreman looked House up and down. Stubble, wrinkled shirt, jeans, tennishoes. How does he keep his job? If I walked in like that, he'd either glare at me, or fire me. Well, I have worn tennishoes before. He just ridiculed me, saying he paid less for his online. He hardly looks like a professional doctor, but more like a well dressed hobo. And yet, he's my boss.
"What is it, Foreman?" House noticed the deep-in-thought look.
"Nothing." Foreman shook his head.
House began limping towards the doors. He stopped and looked at his team. "Well... What are you waiting for?"
Chase coughed. "Um, he wants to see you alone."
House glared at Chase. "Alone?"
Foreman and Cameron nodded.
House rolled his eyes. "Great. Work."
The patient had come to the clinic with complaining of pain in his legs. House immediately diagnosed him with tendinitis, going on what the patient said. His legs hurt all the time, and it seemed to hurt more when he moved. The pain was close to his knee also. Dr. House prescribed ibuprofen, an NSAID, to reduce the pain and assumed inflammation. The patient returned a couple of days later. He lost feeling in his legs, and he was gradually losing the ability to use his legs.
"So, it's not Tendinitius." House growled.
Dr. House and his diagnostics team were in the meeting room, next to his office. House stood at his whiteboard, writing the symptoms of the patient. Paralysis, Numbness.