Friendship Reflection
It was the same routine for a week. He would come home and change out of work clothes into sweatpants and a t-shirt. Then after gathering a glass of water and some Excedrin he would make himself comfortable on the couch and try to relax his headache away. The television was just a diversion from the tension that was pulling on what felt like his brain. Cracking his neck and back wouldn't do anything. After a short television induced nap he would start dinner.
His afternoon routine was the only thing that kept him from using Morphine. He would come home and change out of his jeans into sweatpants and a t-shirt. After gathering a glass of water and his vial of Vicodin he would make himself comfortable and try to relax his leg pain away. The television was just a diversion from the pain that felt like it was drilling a hole into his leg. Stretching and walking did nothing to ease it. After a television induced nap he would try to make something substantial enough to constitute dinner.
After dinner he would load the dishwasher and retreat back to the couch for some more mind melting television. He felt the throbbing of his brain and just wanted it to stop. The images on the television weren't helping no matter what was on. Between the sound and the need to visually track things it just made him dizzy. Eventually it would make him nauseated enough that a shower was in order.
Following a sad attempt at a meal he would pile the dishes in the sink and limp his way back to the couch. The television was just background noise to help drown out his pain. The constant stabbing that seeped into his leg seemed to work its way to his mind. It got inside and made the pain almost unbearable. Just about when he had had enough, the shower seemed like a last resort.
The steam and the heat created a constant massage on his neck and shoulders. He closed his eyes and let out the breath he forgot he was holding. Eventually his shoulders sagged and a miniscule amount of tension was relieved. Turning off the water and grabbing a towel, he tied it around his waste and sat on the ledge of the tub, his head in his hands.
The hope was that the heat and the pressure would massage away his pain at least enough to make it bearable. Sitting in the built in seat he angled the shower head to directly hit his thigh. He let out a long breath and tried to relax. Eventually he relaxed enough that the pain was manageable. He shut the water off, grabbed the towel off the rack and sat on the ledge of the tub, his head in his hands.
Wilson found himself thinking about House and his pain. He had seen him a time or two in this exact position and wondered what he was doing at that very moment. He wondered what House could do for his pain and even if House was in pain.
House was thinking of Wilson while he sat on the edge, holding his head, contemplating his pain with wanting to talk to his friend. Wilson always seemed to take the pain away by side tracking him with whatever he could come up with. He also wondered if Wilson was ever in pain. How would Wilson react if House asked that question?
"Wilson give me a number."
"7.You?"
"8."
"How did you know?"
"How did you know?"
"I guess I just did."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Wilson's headache didn't disappear but he did feel a little better knowing that someone else was suffering while he was. He didn't wish pain upon House but there was something inside him that felt better knowing that his friend cared enough to call and ask, or that he even knew that his friend was in pain.
House's leg never stopped hurting completely but knowing that he could sense pain in others especially his best friend allowed him to feel at least a little bit better. Knowing that other people hurt almost as much as he did was a release in some way.
They both slept a little better than they had throughout that whole week just knowing that the other was there for them. It didn't make the pain go away but it made them feel better in a different way, a place inside them that hadn't felt better in quite some time.