A little beginning-of-the-week teaser ;-)
At my nice guest: Yup, I was referring to Jerry in Chap 34 (I do frequently forget his name). Not sure Wilson would have started anything with Cuddy after Season 5 - it was pretty clear by then that House wanted her.
At my Spanish-speaking followers: No es necesario traducir sus commentarios. Entiendo el español.
Shout out to OccamsRzr, who provided me with insights on kidney infections.
Chapter 36
House is sitting at his desk, searching for alternative methods to locate Cuddy's infection. It's past seven. He has been receiving updates regarding her condition from his team and Wilson, who all subtly tried to convince her to change her mind, but she remained stubborn. The second dose of antibiotics was administered around 3pm, but her fever persisted, fluctuating around 102 degrees. The medication they put her on are keeping the nausea and the contractions at bay.
His phone rings. The display announces the caller: CUDDY. He is pretty sure he knows what the conversation will be about, and hesitates to pick up. Then his worry gets the better of him. "Oh hello, possible future mother of my offspring," he chirps into the receiver.
"You called my mother?" she snaps in a subdued voice, her anger suppressed but palpable.
He scrunches his nose. "Why am I always the number one suspect? It's so unfair," he says in mock offence. "Wilson knows what's up. Your sister, your nanny, your—"
"Because you're the number one crook," she fires back. "At least when it comes to me and this hospital. Have you completely lost your mind?"
"She's a mother. You're an aspiring one. I'm sure she's brought sensible advice in her bag of witchery."
"I stopped listening to this woman since I was twelve. What makes you think I will start that up again now?"
"You rebelled against her. Behind her back. On the front you still pretend to be the perfect daughter. You yearn for her approval." He rubs his face. "Kinda tough pretending you'll be having a necessary medical procedure done."
"House, get her out of here!"
"She's not with you right now, so you obviously managed that all by yourself."
"I sent her to my house to bring me some of my stuff. She insists on staying here all night."
"Bummer. But you know what they say: Family is the rock in the surf. Or was that a beer commercial?"
"My pulse is above ninety," she complains. "You're not helping. And neither is she."
"You know what would help?" he asks in a raised voice. "A pyelogram! You should be doing everything you can to—"
"So should you!" she shouts.
"I am doing everything—"
"No you're not! You're hiding from me. There's more to sickness and recovery than medication and numbers."
"What do you want me to do? Bring in a couple of singing bowls, place them over your kidneys and have their resonating therapeutic frequencies do the trick?"
She puffs out some air in annoyance. "Ditzen and colleagues, 2007. Psychoneuroendocrinology," is all she says before she hangs up on him.
He searches the article online. The title immediately conveys her message: 'Effects of different kinds of couple interaction on cortisol and heart rate responses to stress in women'.
His exhale is long and deep as he drops his head into his hands.