Chapter 13 Cold Harbor Hospital
Cuddy and Hadley sat behind the protective glass as the MRI snapped pictures of the patient's head. Over the past six hours, they had seen further degeneration but still no signs of exactly what they were dealing with. Every test seemed negative or inconclusive.
Hadley glanced over at the other doctor and mused about what was unfolding around herself. When she'd asked to be included in the interview, Peters and the other senior staff thanked her but kept her back figuring someone needed to cover the Clinic. Now I'm in the middle of it! She felt a weird thrill about collaborating with the driven and sarcastic Diagnostician, his fiancée and the two members of his team.
In two years on staff at CHH, she'd never had anything like this.
Cuddy tapped her arm. "Hey. Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh yeah. Sorry my mind drifted for a second. How are you holding up?" Hadley inquired.
"I'm doing okay. I'm more worried about House's mother. Since we're not going to be leaving anytime soon, I'm thinking of having a friend of ours take her to dinner," Cuddy reported.
"So what's he like to deal with?"
Cuddy looked at Hadley curiously. "Excuse me?"
"House. What's he like to deal with?" Hadley kept her eyes on the images but stole a slight glance at Cuddy.
Cuddy arched an eyebrow while also studying the images. "He's pretty much the way you've seen. He's been through a lot."
"I can tell. He must be Hell to manage."
Cuddy snorted. "Good luck on the management part. House does what House wants. He does care for the patients in his own way. I kept that in mind when I was Dean of Medicine back at Princeton."
"And he drives his team," Hadley noted.
"That he does do. Why? Interested in the abuse?" Cuddy probed.
"More like a chance to learn from him. Cameron and Chase seem capable enough," Hadley assessed.
"They are even if House won't admit it," Cuddy commented while seeing another image come on the screen. "Damn!"
"There are masses at the base of the skull and in the surrounding brain tissue," Hadley realized.
"Ooh nasty disease!" House added while limping back into the area. "Blood work came back clean and yet there are those little creeps partying it up. Sucks to be Dad."
"House," Cuddy sighed.
"We've got bigger problems. Wyngate's the new Dean in Princeton. He had a run in with Cameron and Chase," he started.
"I feel bad for the poor hospital. What a jerk," his fiancée declared.
"But wait! There's more!" he deadpanned.
"This I can't wait for," Cuddy replied dryly. "Go ahead."
He shrugged. "Wyngate implemented a big bad no-lovie policy. Then he canned Cameron and Chase. Joy! Joy!"
"WHAT?" Cuddy wheeled around in her chair. "You're serious?"
He straightened up and shot her the sarcastic look. "Gee. No, Cameron and Chase eloped and went off to the Outback to treat koalas. Of course I'm serious! They're on their way out here."
"Great! Now we can't count on them for at least a day. I hate that ass!" Cuddy groused.
"At least I guilted Wilson into helping us," he gloated.
"You what?" Hadley asked, feeling confused.
"Relax. He had it coming to him," he snapped tersely. "We'll catch you up later. Any good theories?"
"You're asking me?"
"Like duh! Yeah. You. Any theories?" he retorted.
Hadley suppressed her nerves at being put on the spot. "Given the symptoms, ephlegmigitis. It started in the stomach. Temperature, fever and sweats. It progressed to the lungs and now the masses. But given how advanced it is, we can't treat it."
He nodded clearly seeing where she was coming from. "Since I don't want you feeling left out, Cuddy, what do you think?"
"Feels so good to be counted on," Cuddy countered not giving any ground to him. She considered the diagnosis and nodded. "I agree with you, Dr. Hadley. We have to at least try some treatment."
"There is the infomycin solution," he proposed, allowing himself a satisfied grin in the process.
"House, are you crazy? It's only in the testing stage!" Hadley protested. "You know how much pain that'll put your father through. First group of FDA subjects couldn't deal with it."
"Gee. My heart's breaking. Dad's wanting me to do something. He's all he can be. Let the tough guy see how he can deal with it. His choice is simple! Pain and a chance at life with the drug or pain and death without it!" he argued.
"And you're sure your personal feelings aren't getting in the way?" Cuddy supposed. "This isn't about getting even."
"Life's a bitch, Cuddy," he replied firmly, not hiding the pain in his eyes. He swallowed four more Vicodin.
"Are you serious?" Hadley asked incredulously. "House, I agree your father's a jackass. You don't need to sink to his level."
He laughed incredulously. "He deserves it."
"Even if he does, House, remember what you said in the hallway. We swore an oath. I know you're crass. You can be a jerk toward people. But I've never seen you like this!" Cuddy protested.
"HEY!" House, Sr. yelled from the other room. "I'm not getting any younger in here!"
House pressed the talk button. "We're doing big doctor stuff. Chill, Dad. We'll be back in like two hours." He released it before leaning on the counter wrestling with his demons. He knew where his duty was.
But the hurt part of him screamed at him wanting to exact payback.
The two women looked at him not knowing what to do exactly.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, he croaked, "Get him out of there. Once we get him back to his room, start him on a half dose of the stuff. We'll see what he can do. I need to let Mom know." He headed out of the booth.
"Go and be with him. I'll deal with his father," Hadley advised Cuddy.
"Right," Cuddy agreed before following in his wake.
Chapel
Even as her son and his colleagues worked on various scenarios to treat Jeff, Blythe kneeled before the pulpit in silent prayer. She knew her husband had his issues especially where it came to their son. She had tried to intervene at times during the difficult years. Mostly though, she'd turned a blind eye to what Greg went through. It was easier that way for her.
"I keep telling you there's nothing there, Mom," House advised.
"You might try it. It might surprise you," she retorted while standing to face him. "I wish you could get beyond your pain."
"Yeah right. The world's a rotten place. You should try and face it sometime," he countered bitterly before sucking his feelings back up. "Speaking of rotten, Dad has advanced ephlegmigitis. You might want to sit down."
She nodded while sitting down. "Okay. Greg, tell me. What is this disease?"
"It's a virus that starts in the liver, works into the stomach, lungs and brain. I wish the idiots who'd treated Dad earlier had seen it….." He hesitated before rubbing his forehead.
"But…Greg, you can treat it, right?" She gripped onto his hands desperately like a drowning person grasping a rope. "Right?"
He bowed his head, not wanting to tell her the grim prognosis.
"Not with conventional medication," Cuddy added from the hallway.
"You mean there's unconventional medication?" Blythe queried. "Lisa, what is Greg not telling me?"
Cuddy sat down next to House. She rubbed his shoulder supportively. "There is an experimental medication which is in the clinical testing phase. We're starting him on a low dosage."
"Low so as to keep the pain manageable," he noted.
"Can't you put him on a regular dose?" Blythe asked.
"The pain would be really, really bad, Mom," he told her. "And we don't know for sure it'll work on a case this advanced. This'll buy us some time though until my team from Jersey can get out here."
"I see," Blythe indicated. "Then go ahead, Greg. Do it."
"Just like that?" Cuddy asked.
The elder woman shrugged. "I'm not my husband, Lisa. I know Greg's doing everything he can. He may be intolerable sometimes but he's my son. I have faith in him. Thank you for being so supportive."
"You're welcome," Cuddy expressed, keeping the earlier debate to herself. "While we're administering the treatment, there are going to be a couple of hours before any change is noticeable. Our friend, Patty DeAnda was going to take us to dinner. Why don't you get something to eat? We'll be here."
"You should," he agreed.
"I'd rather be here but you have a point. Okay, Lisa and Greg, I'll go out for an hour or two for something to eat. Promise me you'll call if anything comes up?"
"We promise. Come on," Lisa agreed as they left the chapel area and headed for the lobby.
Maybe the treatment might work. Perhaps it might not. But House had made some sort of connection with his mother at that point. And that counted for something…..