CHAPTER 12-SPORTS MEDICINE
House had a new patient. Thank God, I thought. It was better to have him focused on the puzzle. I thought that maybe he wouldn't bother me so much, but I was wrong. He strolled into my office aggressively frisbeeing the file onto my desk. "Need a consult," he said gruffly.
"Hmm…I don't know, House. Didn't seem like you-"
"Wilson, this is a patient, so just shut up!" he screamed. "He's a tennis player and I think he has bone cancer." I opened my mouth to retort but just closed it and looked at the file.
"Yep," I said simply. "I'll tell him." Truth was I didn't want to be anywhere near House, but this was for the good of the patient. He was acting frazzled lately; this had to be about more than just Cuddy. He would never be this worked up over something that didn't happen.
I discussed treatment options with the patient while House barely paid attention, looking out the window every five seconds, then remembering where he was, eyes darting back into the room.
I walked out quickly when the consult was over, eager to get back to my office and to get there faster than House. "Wilson!" I heard. I spun on my heel. He looked a little bit worried and slightly confused, rubbing the back of his neck. "I…need, um…."
I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "It's OK, House."
