Who?
House watched as Cameron, Cuddy, and a couple of nurses rolled an unconscious Alicia Morrison towards the ER. Cuddy had reacted quickly and stopped the seizure while he observed the crowd staring at the clinic mini-drama unfold. He noticed an eight year old boy clutching his mom's hand as silent tears rolled down his face. Scooping up the forgotten cane, he approached the frightened child, whose eyes never left the spot where the woman fell. Ignoring the mother, House sat down and leveled his head with the boy. Gently, he asked, "Do you see the lady fall?" The child gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"Sir, give him a few minutes to . . ." the mother pulled the child behind her leg to stop him from questioning him.
"Can you tell me what you saw before she fell?" he continued undeterred by the mother. The child looked confused looking at House and back to his mother trying to figure out which to listen to.
"You're scaring him. Go away!" the mother snapped slapping House's hand when it reached out to touch the boy's shoulder.
"Your son knows what happened to the woman that was lying on the floor shaking uncontrollably. Did you teach your son to be a decent human being and help save a woman's life or allow him to stand around and enjoy the show just like dear old mom?" House shouted at the woman, whose mouth dropped open in shock. House lowered himself down to the boy's level and repeated his question.
In a hushed voice, the boy responded, "She put her hand here." He motioned towards his heart, "Then, she fell down." All other words died in his throat.
"That will help her," House willed a small smile for the boy.
"Get away!" the mother pulled her son away from the big, bad man heading out the door.
Finding the three women that left him standing alone in the clinic, House observed as Cuddy consulted Cameron on her course of treatment. She had on that overly concerned face; she must read the chart discovering the woman was pregnant. Cuddy nodded in agreement to the tests and treatments that Cameron stated and handed over the chart. She turned to leave when her eyes landed bull's-eye on House. Her eyes flickered with curiosity and concerned. The look asked what do you know. Cameron duplicated the look on Cuddy's face once she realized where the dean was looking. Succumbing to their looks, House approached his smugness evident.
"Did she tell you something when you saw her in the clinic that you forgot to mention in her chart?" Cuddy was shooting daggers at him. In a look, she berated him silently saying that if he actually filled out charts properly, then other doctors would know what was going on with the patient.
"No," he smirked but dropped the grin as he began to scrutinize the patient. Stepping forward, he carefully looped the lost cane on the end of the hospital bed.
"You know something. Otherwise, you never would have followed the patient," Cameron gave her own smug smile.
Turning to his one of his former protégés, he ordered Cameron, "Drop the head CT. Get a chest X-ray."
"She hit her head, House. We need to make sure that there is no damage to the skull or brain," Cuddy argued.
"The problem isn't in her head. It's her heart," House gaited away heading towards the elevator, "Bring Morrison's file to me after you run the tests."
Cuddy and Cameron watched him retreating with widened eyes. Cameron asked with doubt in her tone, "Did he actually remember the name of his patient?"
"Yeah. He did," Cuddy answered before departing back to the clinic.
The click of his office door drew House from his deep thoughts. He looked up to see Wilson hanging his head in the doorway. "Want to get lunch?" asked Wilson joyfully. His expression faded instantly the second that he noticed House fumbling with his secret stash. He was rolling an orange bottle half full of Vicodin in his right hand while his left hand shuffled the pages of the lupus text that was cut to fit the bottle. Suddenly concerned, Wilson blurted out, "Are you okay?"
"Why would a healthy, competent woman call her child a parasite?" House asked rhetorically.
"The father was an ass. She hates kids, had a bad childhood, was raped, or didn't expect to be pregnant," Wilson rattled off several possibilities examining his friend's expression.
"Likes the father. Can at least tolerate kids. Likes her family. No obvious signs. She knew that she was pregnant. She only came here to confirm her suspensions. She was also concerned about the physical well-being of the child," House went through Wilson's laundry list slipping the pill bottle safety back into it's home and slamming the book shut. He focused his gaze onto Wilson when a stampede of doctors in the next room drew the attention of both men. Standing up, he grabbed his cane and boasted to Wilson, who followed close behind him, "Now, let's go see why they pay me the big bucks."
Foreman secured an X-ray to the illuminated board flicking the switch. Stepping back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Cameron, he announced to the team around the table, "House was right. Fluid around the pericardium. We already drained the fluid."
House took his customary position by the white board hanging his cane on the edge. Using a black marker, he wrote the list of symptoms: pregnancy, joint pain, seizure, and pericarditis.
"Pregnancy is a symptom?" Kutner wondered twisting his head to the left.
"More like the plague," House responded annoyed.
"It impacts her diagnosis and treatment," Foreman stated equally annoyed.
"She has a fever and elevated white blood cell count," Thirteen noted from the chart, "We should run cultures and start her on board-spectrum antibiotics."
"What about her joint pain," Cameron drew attention to the comments that House had written out on the board, "It could be autoimmune."
"The fever is 103.6. With the elevated WBC, the symptoms point towards infection with a fever that high," Thirteen countered.
"Infection could explain the fever, WBC, and possibly the pericarditis, but autoimmune explain all her symptoms," Cameron stated with a superior smile.
"Fever and the white count are explained by the infection, which hit the heart causing the pericarditis. The joint pain can probably be explained by the laceration on her knee," Thirteen argued standing up and glaring directly at Cameron.
"Do you really think House would write joint pain as a symptom if it was just a laceration on the knee?" Cameron returned the glare.
Both women turned their fierce looks expectantly towards House wanting for him to confirm their diagnosis. House smiled wickedly at their looks and turned to Wilson. "Think they have enough Jell-O downstairs to settle this argument properly?" he asked. The sides of Wilson's mouth turned up as his thoughts turned to Jell-O wrestling pits and bikini-ed doctors. Thirteen released a frustrated sigh while Cameron shook her head as her own grin grew wide. Thirteen, Taub, and Kutner fixed their gaze on Foreman when they realized House was lost on Fantasy Island.
Turning to Cameron, Foreman mediated, "Without a history, we can't assume autoimmune. The symptoms are more likely an infection."
"We can't assume infection either," Cameron crossed her arms over her chest and set her determined face on.
"We'll start her on antibiotics. Run an LP. We'll include an ANA and anti-phospholipids while we try to hunt down her history," Foreman nodded towards Thirteen, Taub, and Kutner. Thirteen and Kutner exited the office heading off to administer meds and run labs. Taub approached the desk preparing to track down the doctors listed in the medical history given by the patient.
"This is my patient," Cameron glared at Foreman.
"Then, you should have been the one listening and issuing proper orders," Foreman shot back, "instead of pouting when someone argues a better diagnosis than you."
Cameron stood close to Foreman slightly invading his personal space. Cameron, in less than subtle terms, laid down her conditions, "Cuddy specified that this is my patient. All treatments and tests are to be reported to me before any action is taken." She stepped back from Foreman and faced House, who had moved to tower off her short frame in order to clearly demonstrate his dominance. She looked up at him remaining fully confident, "Understood?" House remained silent in his challenge posture.
Foreman let out a sigh of defeat, "I'll page you when the test results come back." Cameron turned back to him and nodded her head part in confirmation and part in thanks before heading back to her ER. Foreman picked up his drug trial files and headed out to inform Thirteen and Kutner to keep him in the loop on any test results.
Wilson faced House after the Juniors had left, "When did you start consulting on patients for Cameron?"
"I don't. Cameron was supposed to hand the patient over to me after some X-rays, but it seems our darling She-Beast in heels assigned the patient to the eager little pleaser," House answered.
"Wait," Wilson gave him a speculative look of doubt, "you offered to take a patient. Cuddy forced you into the clinic, again?"
"Yes, but that's not why I took the patient," House grabbed his cane from the board and headed for the door, "Let's go. I'm going to need proper sustenance before I find Cuddy."
The office door opened with a resounding bang that echoed in the office as her tall opponent lumbered in ready for battle. Shortly after the bang, a sharp shrill filled the office as Rachael expressed her discontent about her afternoon nap being disrupted. House, who had lost his expression of superiority, glared at the unexpected wailing object resting in an expensive baby carriage next to Cuddy's desk. Cuddy had quickly swooped down and gathered the squirming child attempting to ease her cries. Her expression was pure love and compassionate as she gazed on the pink bundle. The look amazingly changed to pure death when she looked upon House. She asked through gritted teeth, "What the hell do you want, House?"
Ignoring her question, House approached the bobbing form of Cuddy frowning, "Why is that here?"
"She," Cuddy emphasized the word stressing her distaste at the term he used for her child, "is here for a checkup with Dr. Gilderfield. The nanny dropped her off early, so I thought I would finish this report before heading to the appointment. At least, I thought I would until an idiot interrupted."
"Why? There's nothing wrong with the spawn that a cork couldn't fix," House looked suspiciously upon the baby.
Cuddy narrowed her eyes as he spoke and tried, again in vain, to emphasize her name, "Rachael was in unsanitary conditions for an entire month. Dr. Gilderfield wants to see her once a week for the first month just to be safe."
"Gilderfield is an idiot. She's fine," House decided not to push his luck. He walked over to the coat rack in the office grabbing the stethoscope from Cuddy's lab coat. Approaching the nervous mother and baby, House secured the instrument around his neck and pulled a penlight from his pocket. Cuddy back away as he approached unpleased with his actions.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I know it's been awhile since you played doctor, so I'll go slowly. This is what we call examining a patient. We use this little light to check the eyes and this strange little doohickey allows us to hear the patient's heartbeat," he responded condescendingly.
"House!" Cuddy threatened reflexively drawing Rachael protectively into her chest, "You don't exam patients."
"Wrong. I don't exam patients when I have three little ducklings to do it for me. When you throw me in that damn torture chamber, I actually do look at the patients," House tried again to look at the baby. Cuddy glared at him suspiciously. "Okay, I look at them when I have to," he amended his statement, "Cuddy, come on. Who do you want checking your child, world renowned diagnostician or Dr. Lollipop?"
Cuddy signed. She surrendered and allowed House to examine her daughter. Watching him carefully, she noticed his expression changed to the one that she considered his 'observation' look. After she placed the baby back in the carriage and removed the swaddled blankets, House checked her response to stimuli and listened to her heart and lungs. Once Cuddy was sure of his intent, she focused on entertaining the infant. House drew her attention after he listened to the heart. He summarized, "She's fine. Tell Dr. Gilderfield to double check her ears, nose, and throat with the scope. But I'm telling you, the spawn is perfectly healthy."
Satisfied with his exam, Cuddy rewrapped her daughter in the pink blanket and settled the bundle back into the crook of her left elbow. "Why are you here, House?" she refocused the conversation.
"Tell Cameron to give up my case," he demanded settling into the chair in front of her desk.
"No," she replied before murmuring loving comments softly to Rachael with a beaming smile.
"Cameron runs the ER. The patient was admitted to the hospital. The case should be moved to another attending. I already laid claim. Give me my case," he began to spin his cane in his right hand.
"No," Cuddy returned his look.
"Why?" he asked as the frustration and anger in his voice grew more evident.
"Cameron is a great doctor. She is actually capable of consulting other doctors if necessary. For now, this is what is best for the patient," Cuddy answered.
"No. Using a patient to see if Cameron has the balls to stand up to me and say no is not the best course," he relished in the surprised look on Cuddy's face, which confirmed his suspensions. He continued, "But that doesn't answer my question. Why? Why do you need to test Cameron? What's going on?"
"Nothing has changed, House," Cuddy recovered from her shock, "I'm just watching out for the patient. You have an unusual fascination in an ordinary case. If things change, I'll give you the case." Cuddy was grabbing items and moved quickly to the exit. She was heading towards her next appointment. "Is there anything else? I don't need you following me and scaring more children," she paused to see if he had a response. Over her shoulder, she quietly thanked me for looking at Rachael before escaping his presence.
"Everything changes," House mumbled watching Cuddy rush away to the elevator.
House emerged from the elevator contemplating the discussion that he had just had with Cuddy. The idea of her departure brought up feelings that he did not want to deal with, but the notion of toying with Cameron filled him childlike delight. He couldn't decide whether he should invade Wilson's office to discuss the 'tests' that he should try on Cameron or brood about Cuddy in his office. The large group assembled in his conference room distracted his attention. Taub turned to House and informed him of the current debate, "According to the all the doctors that Ms. Morrison listed, she doesn't exist. None of the doctors had her on file."
"Everybody lies," Foreman sighed standing beside a frowning Cameron.