After lunch, House had no time to even consider going back to bed for a nap before Dr. O'Malley showed up. Wilson was eager to see him. House just rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming.
"How is your therapy going?"
"Well, seeing as I recently fell flat on my face just trying to stand up, I think the answer is pretty obvious," House retorted.
O'Malley ignored the barb. "They have you standing in the parallel bars. Good!"
O'Malley inspected and palpated the incision. House was pleasantly surprised to find that the incision itself was not tender anymore. "Any pain or tenderness at the incision?" O'Malley asked. "I don't mean muscular pain. I know about that. I mean is there any localized pain right in the incision?"
"Not unless you're….ouch…. digging at it like that!" House complained while O'Malley removed a few stray sutures. House began to squirm in the chair.
Wilson asked if House could begin gait training yet. "Gait training? What am I, a dog or something?" House shot at Wilson. House's mood was rapidly turning south; much farther south than it had been in awhile. He was tired, crabby, stiff, sore, and his patience had run out. House looked at Wilson while talking to O'Malley. "He wants to know if you want me walking yet. I need to pee."
"You can start walking, but he's right. It'll involve some gait training. I don't want you bearing any weight on your right let yet. I'll talk to your physiatrist. How is your urination? You peeing Ok?"
"You're asking how my pee is? You can get that from my lab results in my chart. You can leave now unless you want tire tracks on your feet. I really have to pee NOW."
"Ok, ok. See you later," O'Malley said to House's back as Wilson pushed House to the bathroom. Ordinarily Wilson would have let House move on his own, but the words and body language coming from House were loud and clear. He needed to get to the bathroom post haste, as fast as possible. The fastest way to get there was by Wilson pushing him and for once, House was glad for the help.
Once in the bathroom with the door closed, House breathlessly and frantically pulled his gown out of the way and tried to pee in a hand-held urinal. "Oh god, it's not coming out. Thanks to that idiot, I've been holding it too long. I have to stand!" Getting more frantic, House grabbed the bars on either side of the stall with both hands and jerked himself up to a standing position. Remembering his earlier face plant, he remembered to plant his left foot underneath him to bear a good bit of the weight. Then he had another problem. With both hands holding on to the grab bars, he had no way to make sure Little Greg didn't pee all over the walls and the floor. All he could do was hope he had good aim. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply as the stream hit the porcelain. Wilson stood behind him in close proximity, ready to support him if he lost his balance. He looked pretty shaky but House managed without any help.
"Thank you," House breathed to Wilson. "Oh my god, thank you, thank you…."
"Ok, buddy. I got the chair. Just sit back down slowly," Wilson said gently.
"I know, I know! Make sure the brakes are locked. I got this. Let me do it myself."
House remembered what Ruth told him. "When you can't see the wheel chair because you're standing with your back to it, ask someone else to make sure the brakes are locked." After double checking to ensure that they were, House grabbed both arms of the wheel chair and lowered himself back into it slowly. Wilson got a wet wash towel for House and they made their way back to House's bed.
"I know I have therapy again in a little while but I'm completely knackered. I need to go to bed. Would you mind moving my journals over here where I can reach them?" House asked Wilson in a very uncharacteristically (and very nice to hear) conciliatory tone of voice. "I'm sorry for snapping at everyone but I've really had it for now." House moved himself painfully back into bed.
"Wait. Did you really just say what I think you said?" Wilson said while getting House's journals for him, playfully mimicking the way House asked that very same question earlier.
"Yes, and you'd better record it for posterity because the chances of you ever hearing me say 'I'm sorry' again are almost nil."
"Love you," Wilson tossed over his shoulder as he made ready to step out of House's room and let House get some shut eye.
"Bite me," House retorted, playfully.
"Maybe later," Wilson called out from the hallway.