Sessions: Grief counseling
"I can't thank you enough for filling in on clinic duty again, " Lisa Cuddy told Cate for the fourth time that afternoon. Cate smiled and placed her hand on the thin woman's arm.
"It's not a problem, really," Cate assured her. "I was used to the same kind of stuff at the research station, runny noses, backaches and stomach flu, the occasional severed femoral artery. I was the only doctor there, after all, despite what House says."
Cuddy bit down on a sneer, "Ignore him. He makes an art form out of being a chauvinist ass."
Cate laughed at her boss apt description of the man who at the same time annoyed and intrigued her. The two women walked into the cafeteria for a much needed cup of tea after a marathon clinic session had exhausted both of their bedside manners and drained just about all of their energy. "I gathered as much. We sort of came to some kind of mutual truce when he was treating my condition last winter. Although, I think that really only happened after I was unconscious."
"He tends to get along best with people when their comatose and unresponsive, " Cuddy offered her a cup as they made their way through the line to the hot water. "They argue with him less and don't seem to care if her treats them like imbeciles."
"It validates his need to always be right, " Cate said as she opened her mint tea bag and filled her cup with steaming water.
"The problem is that he usually is always right, which just infuriates me even more because it means I can't kill him; he's too good of a doctor for justifiable homicide."
Cate shrugged apologetically. "I can't complain; he saved my life."
The two women wandered over to a table by the window with a view of the turning foliage. The late afternoon sunshine was low in the horizon and cast a warm glow on the table. "I can't image how terrifying that whole experience was for you. To be trapped with no real medical facility and just yourself to rely on. I don't know if I could have done it."
"That was the whole point of the study, " Cate said taking a seat. "The effects of long term isolation on the human psyche are extreme. It takes a resourceful person with a…" she paused searching for the right descriptor, "…a pioneering spirit." And maybe a little bit of insanity helped. She turned her head and looked longingly out to the courtyard taking in the deep oranges and yellows of the New Jersey autumn. It had been a long time since she had seen the warmth of color on the landscape. The memory of the grays and whites of the tundra chilled her to the bone.
Cate shivered inadvertently and drew her attention back to the woman in front of her. "So I hear that Dr. Wilson has resigned from the hospital. He lost someone close to him a few months ago?"
Cuddy frowned and twisted her teacup in her hands. She was clearly still at a loss for how to deal with the situation. "It was bus accident. Her name was Amber and she was with House when it happened."
Cate was surprised by the woman's succinct admission. The weightiness with which she said the last part resonated with a significance that Cate didn't quite understand. "What happened?"
"House was drunk and he called Amber, instead of Wilson, in the middle of the night to come get him. If it had been Wilson who went to go get him, I don't know…" her voice broke and trailed off into silence. The pain of the event still resided on Cuddy's face. It was obviously a sticky and complicated circumstance that was ongoing and that she, as hospital administrator and friend, had to somehow manage. She shook herself to regain her usual collected composure. "Wilson quit both the hospital and House."
"I can't image that is going smoothly, " Cate surmised with what little she knew about House and his best friend.
"No. I'm down one oncologist, not to mention a good friend and that leaves me alone to deal with an agitated and even more difficult House." Cuddy sighed heavily and then laughed self-consciously. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. It's not your problem."
Cate smiled. She was used to this kind of confessional. As a psychiatrist she had a knack for getting people to talk about their underlying emotions, even if it was inadvertent and unwelcome at times. "It's ok; you're going through grief in sense, as well."
An awkwardly guilty look stole over Cuddy's face. "I didn't particularly care for Amber all that much, but I never wanted to see her dead."
"Well, you are feeling a sense of loss nonetheless, " Cate assured her. "Wilson seemed to be an integral part of life professionally here at the hospital and personally for both you and House. It's natural to miss his presence and to feel empathy for what he's going through."
"Well, that's some of the problem. House doesn't feel anything." There was desperation in her voice.
"House isn't grieving in his own, you know, House way?" Cate asked intrigued. Even though she had had only a few glimpses into his complicated psyche, she could tell that for as emotionally stunted as the man was, he had to be exhibiting some kind of emotional distress or guilt over the situation.
"No. Nothing. He feels no remorse, no guilt, no empathy, which he could never feel, by the way. He's his same old obnoxious self, " Cuddy explained with a sense of exasperation. "If anything. he's even more obnoxious than usual."
"It could be how he's manifesting his feeling over the situation. Denial is a very powerful defense mechanism." And it sounds exactly like it would be House's motis operendi.
"I don't know if he's capable of feeling anything that doesn't revolve around him."
"But, in his world it does revolve around him. His best friend, side-kick, confidant, whatever you want to call Wilson, is not there for him anymore and it doesn't make sense to House because it's as close to abandonment as you can get, and I suspect that's an emotion he can't deal with. So he chooses to ignore it, hence his appearance of no feeling," Cate explained. "It's classic denial."
"He's hired a private detective to follow Wilson around, so he can spy on him, " Cuddy told her conspiratorially.
Cate lifted the corner of her mouth in amusement. He's employed a private detective to do his dirty work, that wasn't something she expected to hear.
"He's had every member of his team researched and probed, including me. And he's somehow trying to sneak it in as some kind of rationalized medical expense. I swear he's delusional. The man is going to drive me nuts." The hospital administrator crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the plastic of her chair in frustration.
Cate sighed and took a sip of her tea. If she wasn't intrigued by his unique personality before, she was certainly hooked now. Why would he go to such trouble for answers to questions that he could most certainly talk his way into, out of and around every which way from Sunday if he truly wanted to? He was a man who always got what he wanted, why would he be circumspect in the process now?
"Maybe he's avoiding the danger of connection to people, " Cate said aloud. She shifted in her chair to get more comfortable, the reasons flowing through her fluidly. "Wilson's leaving has hurt him and made him vulnerable; he's having difficulty dealing with his own part in the death of someone his closest friend cared very deeply about. He already keeps people at a 100 yard distance with his warm and fuzzy personality, so maybe the private investigator is a way to reach out to people in a way that doesn't jeopardize his own fragile state of being?"
"Do you have about an hour everyday free in your schedule to see House professionally, " Cuddy asked with amazement. "Because I think you've summed him up in a nice little box complete with a bow in a total of five minutes and I've struggled to understand him for twenty years."
Cate chuckled. "I don't think he'd ever willing come to talk to me. He thinks psychiatry is crap."
"Oh, but he needs it so desperately, " Cuddy practically begged.
"He might, but he'll have to come on his own terms for it to work, " Cate said. "And you know better than anyone, you can't force him."
"Blackmail usually works, " Cuddy said with a devious smile.
Cate had a suspicion that blackmail was used quite often to get House to submit to Cuddy's demands. She laughed. It felt good to be talking to new, yet familiar people who she had things in common with. It was also comforting to know that drama existed no matter where she went. Drama was the one constant in the universe. Where there were people, there was drama. She could count on it and practically set her watch by it. It was just that some people's drama was sometimes more interesting than others. This particular scenario had all the makings of a Lifetime movie of the week. It was going to be interesting to watch it unfold like a house of cards, that was for sure, because she had a sneaking suspicion she was going to be smack dab in the middle of it like it or not.