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The Rogue Pinkie

Ch. 4

If he was nervous for his appointment he didn't show it as he approached the front entrance. The fact that no one knew him there, it was New York City and he was just another face in the waiting room brought him a sense of relief. At work he didn't want to seem like a patient or have people view him as a sick doctor, here it was all personal matters and only the physician knew that. Only the physician knew him.

He doesn't like waiting rooms. Cramped, cluttered, old magazines, how could an ill patient be comfortable in such surroundings? He checked in at the desk and then turned to the waiting room. He was glad to see that it was mostly vacant. Quiet, cool and calm, just the way he liked them. Taking a seat, he pulled out his iPod. He only read old magazines when they were medical journals.

The nurse called his name twice before he even looked up. By the time he was looking up it was because she had put a hand on his knee. She knew it was him, only because the doctor pointed her in the right direction. Meeting her eyes he paused the music and took out an ear bud.

"Dr. Webber is ready for you."

"Oh. Ok."

"Follow me please."

He started to stand and used his cane for support. She gave him a look of I'll help if you need it, but by his look back she knew that if he needed help he would ask. He was glad that she understood his look.

More waiting took place in Webber's office. Of course he was in with a patient, doctors were never on schedule. House took out his iPod again, but made the volume low so that he would hear the doctor come in. Drifting off into he own world once again, he waited.

Dr. Webber entered with gusto and House stood to greet him. After a brief hand shaking they resumed sitting and got right into the matter.

"So what brings you to see me?"

"My pinkie. It started flailing and spasming. I could stop it for a short time, but it kept recurring and well it really pissed me off."

"I know your credentials so what are you thinking it is?"

"It could be a variety of things, but without tests my mind says Parkinson's."

He feared that diagnosis, but he wasn't going to show weakness, he had just shown enough by admitting that much to a stranger.

"Well you know what we will do now. Scans and tests. How long are you in town?"

"Two days give or take."

"We can discuss the results before you leave."

"Alright, see you then."

Dr. Webber wrote him the orders for the various tests and booked them for later that day. It wouldn't take long and House would have the rest of the day to rest and waste time until the results surfaced.

By the time the tests were over he was sick of throwing the 'I'm a doctor and no I don't need your assistance' look. He was done being poked and prodded, scanned and made small talk to.

He was contemplating just going to the hotel and crashing, but thoughts kept interfering. After driving for sometime he reached a secluded park and found a picnic table. A nap atop the table while basking in the sun seemed like a perfect plan. That's just what he did.