DISCLAIMER: I don't own House. But I do watch it religiously.
Q is for Quarantine
Chapter Two: A Vampire's Beverage
"Patient's called Joe Cosgrove," Cuddy informed the team, handing House a sheet-filled folder. He looked at her like she was mad and jabbed his stick in the direction ducklings' direction, indicating that she give the papers to them. She dumped the pile in front of Cameron, who pounced on it immediately and began shuffling through the notes.
"Bleeding from the fingers, eyes and gums..." she reported.
"Oooh, lot's of blood. Yum, yum," said House, licking his lips. "Was there a clot?"
"No, not yet anyway," Cuddy chipped in. "They managed to tie off the vessels before any damage set in. No stroke."
"That's a shame; clots are particularly delectable," sighed House. Chase's face bore an expression of mild disgust. "Stop making faces, Chase, it's a bad habit."
"The patient collapsed some time after the bleeding starting," Foreman noted, peeking over Cameron's shoulder to see the notes. "Bleeding in the lungs and throat, that is; he must have been coughing up blood."
"Wow, so that's bleeding in the lungs, throat, gums, fingers and eyes! Call the vampires, we can have a blood fest!" exclaimed House, sounding so enthusiastic, the team didn't think he'd ever expressed so much excitement since he'd bought a new Gameboy Advanced game. Cuddy rolled her eyes.
"Bleeding from under the finger nails?" Cameron sounded quizzical. "That's one I haven't heard of before."
"Idiopathic pulmonary haemosiderosis?" suggested Chase. "That would explain the blood in the lungs."
"How old is Mr Cosgrove?" House enquired of Cameron.
"Um… thirty-three," she said.
"IPH is more common amongst children around one to seven years old and extremely rare in adults. Unless you are implying that Mr Cosgrove is a child, I suggest you come up with another disease that is backed up with more medical evidence, as opposed to plucking out the most impressive name you could find out of your memory," said House, squashing a ball between his hands.
"Ok, so haemoptysis could have been a symptom of loads of different lung infections or diseases," Cameron interjected, before Chase could respond to House's insult. "But that still doesn't explain the haemorrhaging in all the other parts of his body."
"Uh, I'm gonna ask the obvious here," said Foreman, raising a hand as if asking permission to speak. "Was Cosgrove involved in an accident prior to all of this? Subjected to any trauma?"
"Finally, a decent question!" said House. "But one that I don't have an answer to. Cameron? Fill us in."
The other doctor consulted her notes. "Says here that he was a heavy smoker, but other than that, no accidents or harm done to the body."
"So we have a heavy smoker, haemoptysis, bleeding fingers, gums and eyes and a range of possible lung diseases," said Chase, ticking off information on his fingers. He frowned, confused. "All of these symptoms correspond to different infections and such. None of this adds up."
House bounced his ball up and down on the floor by his feet. "What is this; a math class? Who cares if it doesn't 'add up'? Now, I think this finger bleeding is quite interesting; this is something you don't see everyday. I want you to go down and see Cosgrove; do a lung biopsy, find out what the hell is wrong with his eyes and gums, and, most importantly, check out his fingers. Particularly for signs of finger clubbing."
The ducklings didn't answer, only trailed out of the room in silence as they contemplated the complicated case ahead of them. Cuddy filed out behind them, shooting sympathetic looks at their backs as they made they're way to Cosgrove's ward, and a long night of testing and theorising with House.
When they three doctors arrived in ICU, they were surprised to discover that there were no nurses attending to the patient. In fact, there was absolutely no activity in this part of the hospital at all. Every single one of the invalids lying on their beds was unconscious, adding to the morbid effect of the quiet ward; it was like stepping into a morgue. Chase vaguely wondered if they had gone to the right place, and not wandered off course due to heavy fatigue and severe dopiness.
"Ackley… Boone … Benjamin… Carlton… Cosgrove- here he is; J. Cosgrove, Caucasian male, thirty-three years of age…" murmured Cameron, peering at the unconscious patient, who was heavily bandaged around his fingers.
"I'll get the stuff for the biopsy," volunteered Foreman, turning round and slouching half-heartedly out of the ward to get the equipment. The door swung shut behind him, and the tail of his lab-coat swished out of sight.
Cameron and Chase were left alone with a dozen or so sleeping patients. They stood by their latest charge's bed, absorbed in thoughtful silence, endless strings of possible diagnoses running through their heads.
Cameron heaved a frustrated sigh. "This doesn't make any sense," she said. "I've never encountered such a strain of symptoms before."
Chase glanced at her and nodded. "There must have been past cases of patients showing these conditions. I'd better go do some research on it before we get the results from the biopsy – it could give us grounds as to what's wrong with him." Plus, he added mentally, it wouldn't give House room to chastise him for slacking on the job, and it was a valid excuse to get out of the death-shrouded ward. He suppressed a shiver and instead ambled over to the doors and the comforting hustle-bustle of life on the other side.
"You're leaving me alone?" asked Cameron, stunning Chase and making him stop dead in his tracks. She gave him a small smile and he frowned. Cameron plus smile equals strange behaviour equals wary Chase.
"Why? Are you scared?" he said calmly, hand resting on the door.
"I'm stuck in a room with a vampire magnet – alone. What's not to be worried about?" She smiled fully now. Definitely PMS, Chase decided, remembering her uptight manner earlier, with Foreman. Now she was smiling and quoting House on vampires?
"You don't believe in all those horror movies?" she carried on, much to Chase's further dismay. "The girl always gets killed first, you know."
Chase crossed his arms, not believing he was having this conversation with Cameron, of all people. "Well, that's because the guys need a reason to kick the vampire's butt. The girlfriend has to die first so that the hero can go on a quest to avenge her death, or something." Did I just say that?
"Not true. Girls can kick ass better than boys," said Cameron, also crossing her arms in the pose she used when she knew she was going to win an argument. Chase snorted.
"They'd have a hard time kicking ass when they're fussing about their hair and nails," he said dismissively. Then again, he thought, he had never seen Cameron fussing too much about her appearance. Not that she looked ugly or badly-dressed – quite the contrary – but she was never like those kind of girls who obsessed about their looks and wore thick layers of make-up. Chase considered this for a moment, then decided it was a positive trait, apart from the fact that she was naturally pretty on top of it. But, as with his respect for House, he was not about to admit this lightly.
"I know you feel the need to constantly preen yourself, Chase," said Cameron, sounding extremely sincere, "but not all girls are like that."
The other doctor's jaw dropped. "Excuse me-"
"ONE NIL TO DOCTOR CAMERON!" sang Foreman's voice as he burst into the ward, knocking Chase sideways into the wall. He was wheeling a trolley in front of him, completely disregarding his colleague, who was nearly flattened to the wall as he flung the doors open. He looked at Cameron and grinned.
"Though I've got to agree with Pretty Boy on one point; men do kick ass better than girls," he said, halting the trolley by the side of Cosgrove's bed.
"Right," said Cameron, shrugging. "I guess we'll have to agree to disagree, then." Out came that smile – smirk – again, as she glanced at Chase. "But if I get to verse Chase in a fight, then we'll see whether women or men kick ass better."
Foreman laughed. "You refer to Chase as a man? How can you have such a low opinion of the male species?"
"Well, when you work with such a person for long enough, you tend to forget how…" Cameron's response was lost to Chase, as he pushed his way out of the ward. He wasn't hurt by their comments about him; he was used to their taunting by now. But that didn't mean that he was willing to stand there and listen. No, he might as well get some work done, pass time, get the job done quicker so that he could go home…
Chase found himself entering a room that was vibrating with the quiet thrum of sleeping computers. Seating himself in front of one, he moved the mouse around a bit, waking up the screen. The monitor leapt to life, the bright light jumping out of the screen, making his already-tired eyes squint further, so he sat back to allow his eyeballs to adjust. Rubbing his temples, he grimaced at the prospect of his now fully-booked night, a night that was meant to be spent relaxing and catching up with sleep, not diagnosing some guy who had blood spurting from every pore on his body. Chase groaned and leaned forward once more, logging onto the system. He tapped in a search for 'bleeding fingers' and the computer complied, listing various sites for him to browse. 'Broken fingers', 'finger cuts', crazy bands called 'Bleeding Fingers'… oh, it went on and on and on and on and on and on …
"Hey, you don't think he's really upset, do you?" asked Cameron, seeing Chase exit quickly from the ward.
"Who, Chase?" said Foreman, still smiling, but snapping on a pair of gloves. "Nah, why should he be? He's never cared before; too unemotional, like a rock." He stopped and seemed to consider something. "No, not a rock – like House."
Cameron echoed his actions, also pulling her hair into a ponytail at the back of her head. "I guess you're right. Let's start examining Cosgrove."
Doctor Foreman nodded and fetched several packages from the trolley. Whilst he was preparing a needle and syringe, Cameron propped Cosgrove onto a stand so that his back was exposed and his torso flopped lifelessly forwards. Foreman stuck the needle into the patient's skin and extracted blood with quick efficiency. He repeated this until he had collected a sufficient amount of haemoglobin to satisfy the lab technicians, then moved across so that Cameron could perform her biopsy. She pulled a chair up and sat down, taking with her a couple of deadly-looking instruments. Cosgrove breathed heavily, deeply asleep, unaware that his lung was about to get pierced by a long needle-like structure.
"Ignorance is bliss," muttered Cameron, setting up her equipment. Foreman hovered beside her, slightly disinterested, but he had nothing better to do. After all, Chase had gone off somewhere (there was no-one to tease and make fun of) so that left keeping Cameron company. He was just about to start another conversation when his colleague let out a small gasp and recoiled from the patient, a frantic beeping noise sounding from the machines lined to the invalid's body.
Cameron pitched forward and yanked Cosgrove away from the stand, so that he was now lying back down on the bed, facing upwards. His eyes were open, glassy, and blood was pumping out of them in steady streams. He appeared to not be breathing, his jaw unhinged and rivulets of crimson travelling down his chin, down his neck and staining the hospital sheets. The bandages around his fingers were splotched with red.
"What the…?" Foreman paged for help and started to help Cameron stop the bleeding. But what use could they be when they had no idea what disease or problems they were dealing with?
"Where the hell is Chase!" Foreman yelled to no one in particular. If there was anyone that could help them now, it was an intensivist, but he was nowhere within close proximity.
In fact he was far away, in a place we all like to call Dreamland. And he wasn't about to answer the summons of Foreman or his beeping pager. Just five more minutes, he told himself, five more minutes…
A/N: I'm not sure where this ff is heading, but I DO have a vague plan in mind. Note, I am not a medical expert and I have absolutely no idea about diagnosing patients, so please bear with me. If you find anything wrong with the symptoms or diseases I've written about, tell me and I'll happily change it. Thank you, and keep reading!
Daygoner
