Wrong Diagnosis
Part IV: Doctors are the Worst Patients
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"Damn, his blood pressure's bottoming out, he's going into shock."
The EMT-Paramedic shouts to Wilson as he slings his stethoscope back around his neck. Wilson in reply throws him a well-do-something look as his mind races with this new development, trying to piece together the symptoms kind of like how House would.
A few seconds later, Wilson is very impressed with the EMT's handiwork, as he's started a line with fluids running wide open trying to stabilize House's blood pressure.
"His temperature has risen to 104." The second paramedic informs the rest of the medical team, shoving cold packs into Cuddy's hands while continuing to assess his patient.
Feeling left out, Wilson looks over to Cuddy who is currently cradling House's head in her hands, trying to keep his brain from frying by placing ice packs on either side. House leans subconsciously into her touch as her fingertips brush his forehead. A sad smile lights up Cuddy's tear stained face.
Cuddy reluctantly but quickly removes her hands from House's head as one of the paramedics slides a non-rebreather mask over his face and then slips a pulse oximeter onto his finger.
Wilson reaches around her and grabs several more cold packs from the cooler, trying to keep his hands busy while his mind reels. He holds House's hands still, not letting him dislodge the several packs he lays across House's chest and abdomen trying to save the vital organs from damage from the fever.
The paramedic cuts open House's shirt and begins attaching cardiac leads and both Cuddy and Wilson gasp at the sight of the spreading rash, the EMT knowingly keeps his mouth shut, realizing that both doctors already can guess the potential diagnosis.
The sirens ring loudly in Cuddy's ears, giving her a headache as she's caught up in the whir of emotions of the moment. The sight of House rapidly deteriorating in front of her eyes shocks her.
She stares down at his face and across his torso to all the lines hooked up to monitors, and cringes as House stops thrashing and his head and arms drop laxly on the gurney, losing consciousness, out cold. His unresponsiveness is terrifying.
Wilson calls her name but she doesn't answer. She doesn't hear him as she screams out House's name.
The lights blink dizzily in front of her face as her heart races, her breathing rapid, and her tears marring her vision. She doesn't realize she's being held until Wilson shakes her.
"Snap out of it Cuddy!" She jerks her head up at him, meeting his brown eyes at his harsh command before her eyes settle on the two paramedics watching their Dean of Medicine have a breakdown, a panic attack.
Before Wilson can weave his tale of reassurances the heart monitor wails and the paramedics jump into action watching the monitor, applying the defibrillator pads, and charging.
"Clear!"
The soft thump of House's body against the gurney causes Cuddy to jerk in Wilson's arms and she slides down as Wilson's arms go slack as he zones in on the screen looking between the monitor and House's face.
A paramedic shouts almost gleefully, apparently enjoying the adrenaline rush of almost losing their patient.
"He's back! Got a strong sinus rhythm."
But Wilson isn't reassured as he watches the pulse oximeter reading drop slowly but steadying and then jumps to House's side, his hand on the man's chest recognizing the faint labored breathing.
"He's going into respiratory failure!"
Wilson roars, causing the young paramedics to jump into action quickly. Drawers flying open, plastic bags ripping open, the head of the gurney is lowered until House is in a fully supine position.
The cold packs are pushed away as well as the non-rebreather mask as the senior paramedic skillfully positions himself at House's head, laryngoscope blade at ready as he carefully maneuvers it down House's throat until he reveals the vocal chords. Holding the blade in one hand, he uses the other to glide the endotracheal tube into place.
The other paramedic quickly attaches the Ambu bag and pumps air into House's lungs as the senior paramedic listens for bilateral breathe sounds. Confirming the correct placement of the endotracheal tube the paramedic gives a thumbs up signaling the intubation as a success.
Wilson watches the monitor as House's oxygen saturation rate rises and he lets out the breath he has been holding, rubbing the palm of his hand down his tired face.
Cuddy stares blankly at the scene in front of her before she promptly throws up. The paramedic's who's shoes have just been splattered with vomit looks at her unfazed by his soiled shoes but wearily passes her a emesis bag and a clean cloth.
The occupants of the ambulance are silent as they intently monitor the House's condition.
Wilson finally able to breathe, carefully pulls the crumpled white sheet up, covering House's bare chest, the back of his hand goes to his forehead.
"He's burning up." Wilson blankly states.
The younger paramedic calmly retakes House's temperature.
"105." He replies, looking up worriedly at his partner.
"ETA, five minutes." The elder paramedic replies, knowing they've done all they can do for him until they get him to the hospital.
"Hang on House," Wilson whispers, holding his friend's cold fingers.
Her nerves shot, Cuddy just sobs.
