"Hello, ducklings!" House called out as he entered the conference room. The startled team looked up at him.
"Hey! Are you feeling better?" Kutner asked. The other three were all too obviously zipping it up to cut off any possible comments, given that House a week ago had threatened to fire anybody for asking about his health.
He seemed to be in a good mood at the moment, though. "Yes, I am. Nasty little bug, but it's thoroughly stomped and crushed into the pavement," he replied. The team studied him. House had taken a long hot soak this morning before leaving, and stiffness with which he moved could have been put down to a fairly bad leg day, but his eyes were clear and bright. He was deliberately wearing a long-sleeved shirt that covered the Ace bandage still supporting the right forearm and the large dressing on his left elbow. The abrasion on the left side of his face had been far more minor than the elbow and was almost totally healed, easily able to be passed off as bumping into something at this point. Only the cast on his left arm peeping out of the unbuttoned cuff signaled acute injury. He looked, in short, much better than he had when last seen at the hospital last Friday, even if still rather stiff and achy, which might itself be consequences of most of a week being sick. "I was just trying to convince Cuddy that I'm alive and to let me work half the day today at least, but she isn't quite convinced. Insists I get a chest x-ray. She seems to think I had pneumonia or something."
All of the team members would have bet money on it a week ago, just on visual evidence, but even Kutner thought better of challenging House's assessment right now. He was clearly much better and looked only stiff, no longer febrile, exhausted, having difficulty breathing, and ready to keel over. Kutner scrambled for something innocent with which to stuff the silence. "Um, Cuddy is off taking care of Rachel this week. Rachel got released on Monday."
"Cuddy was in her office when I crossed the lobby a few minutes ago. I was talking to her about coming back to work." Both statements absolutely true, although the order of them was reversed.
"Good," Foreman put in. "I was just about to call her. I'll try her office extension instead of home."
"Why do you need to call her?" House inquired.
"We had a referral just come up from ER. She wanted us to approve any cases through her while you were gone."
"Ah, but I'm not gone. I'm right here. Great timing!" House limped to the whiteboard and took a few extra seconds to get himself propped up while also freeing up his right hand. His leg was clearly giving him problems. Mission accomplished, he picked up the marker. "Symptoms?"
"Maybe we'd better talk to Cuddy," Taub suggested tentatively.
"But I'm here. Furthermore, Cuddy knows that I'm up here. I told her I was going to look in and make sure the office was still here."
"But she doesn't know we have a case now," Foreman insisted. "Has she cleared you to go back to work?"
"I was sick, not suspended. Did I need a note from Mommy?" He turned back to the blank whiteboard. "Symptoms!" he insisted.
Thirteen gave up, knowing it was pointless. House would get it out of them one way or another. "Exertional chest pain, crushing, substernal, radiating."
"BORING!" House objected. "MI. Either pump up his tire, put in an alternate route around the road block, or transfer to the morgue, whichever applies. And thank him for playing. Next contestant?"
"Normal EKG. No rise in cardiac enzymes," Kutner offered.
House stopped in mid dismissal, interest caught. "Hmm. Interesting." He turned to the whiteboard and started to write symptoms, wincing as he raised his right arm and then revising his altitude, starting the symptom list halfway down the board.
"You okay?" Kutner asked.
"Small flare of carpal tunnel. Played too much Gameboy this last week while I was home sick." House finished the list. "So no rise in cardiac enzymes. What do the other labs tell us?"
Foreman shook his head and gave in, mentally planning his defense to Cuddy. "Well, the BMP . . ."
(H/C)
It was 20 minutes later when Hurricane Cuddy blew into the conference room. She had finished going quickly through the paperwork on her desk and headed to Radiology, where she had said she would meet House after he said hello to his team and conscripted one of them for a pseudonymous x-ray, figuring that that wouldn't raise much comment, since the team knew he had been sick. He'd rather deal with them instead of a tech when he was there and his identity obvious. Radiology, however, had not seen House. They were going to use a pseudonym, but even so, the secretary could hardly have missed him going in, even if she had no idea he was to be the patient. People at PPTH noticed House. With lips firmly compressed and eyes flashing, Cuddy headed for diagnostics.
Sure enough, they were all deep in a differential. "Could be an atypical pulmonary presentation," House suggested.
"WHAT are you doing?" Cuddy stated as she entered.
"Saving a life, hopefully. Neat, isn't it?" He frowned at the white board.
"Did you get a chest x-ray?"
"Great idea, Cuddy. I was about to suggest that. Foreman and Thirteen, go get a chest x-ray, anterior and posterior views."
"On you. Not the patient. By the way, I though you all didn't have a patient." She directed her annoyed glare at the team.
"It just came in a minute before he did," Kutner offered.
"We wanted to call you to clear it," Foreman insisted. "He wouldn't let us."
"Yeah, he cut all phone cords and took your cells, too." She shook her head.
"He can fire us," Taub pointed out.
"So can I," Cuddy retorted.
"Not their fault," House stepped in. "They did want to call you. But this is really interesting. All the MI symptoms except for the abnormal EKG and elevated cardiac panel."
"House, you are going to get a chest x-ray, and this time, I'm following you. You're too valuable a hospital asset to risk returning to work too soon after pneumonia. Which one of them were you going to ask?"
Kutner looked hopeful, but House's eyes went past him. "Taub," he said. The least curious, most confidentially minded. "Kutner, search the patient's home. And the rest of you already had your assignments. Add in pulmonary function tests, too. Go!"
Everybody but Taub exited. Cuddy glared at House. "You shouldn't be diving straight back into it."
"Guess the patient should have scheduled his illness better. You ought to speak to him about that. Talk about inconsiderate!"
Cuddy sighed and jerked her head at Taub. "Go get a chest x-ray on him. And this time, I'm following you to make sure you get it. The team can handle the patient."
House stuck out his lip in a classic pout, then turned and limped stiffly out of the conference room.
"We did try to contact you," Taub said.
"Never mind. He's too stubborn, I know."
House stuck his head back in the door. "Change your mind? Great, I'm off to the patient room instead."
"RADIOLOGY!" Cuddy barked out like a drill sergeant, and Taub jumped to it, heading out the door. House took a second to wink at Cuddy, looking thoroughly unrepentant, before following the short doctor to the elevator. She sighed and then hurried after them. Clearly, Taub would need backup to ensure cooperation here.
Secretly, though, she was delighted to see House acting so much like himself. He had a long day ahead and would need to pace himself firmly, whether voluntarily or otherwise, but the part of her that wasn't exasperated was relieved. He was getting well.
