Floating
Chapter 2
"House!" He was thrashing in his sleep. Cuddy practically threw herself across his body. "I need help in here!" She couldn't wrestle him and re-attach the restraints. And then he was calmer. The thrashing replaced by shallow breaths, a sheen of sweat covering him. All of the movement hadn't woken him.
"He's dreaming. Or hallucinating." Wilson had stopped by to check in. "He was awake briefly. Confused and disoriented. But that's pretty much to be expected. He's asleep."
"Vivid dreams are a common side-effect of the Ketamine treatment. So are hallucinations. Either way, they could last a long time, intermittently. Someone once described watching someone coming out of ketamine was like watching someone come out of the worst LSD trip imaginable. It won't be pretty." Wilson had argued against doing this. House had been in no condition to make a reasoned medical choice. Wilson, himself, had considered using ketamine from time to time with terminal patients. But had not. Too risky.
"Had he told you about the morphine?" Wilson quirked an eyebrow. "The pain had gotten so bad, he was getting no sleep. No relief. For him, a 'six' was a good day. He couldn't deal with it anymore. He had tried to get me to administer it spinally a couple of months ago. I was a big help. Gave him saline instead. He wanted so bad for it to work that it did, for a little while—while he was distracted. But he can't be distracted 24/7. I realize that we…or rather I…was underestimating the level of pain."
"Yeah, but how much of that is psych pain? I still think he's got a conversion disorder. It's…"
"No. It isn't. Maybe would make it easier if it was. Blame the victim and all that. But he doesn't want to be in pain. He told me that you said that he liked being miserable. In pain. That it made him 'special' somehow. I think we've both been guilty of that misjudgment."
"He's still not dealing with Stacy, and I think that has a lot to do with it."
"And when did you do that psyche residency? I talked to Stacy. Or rather, she talked to me. After House broke it off. She finally understood the pain she had inflicted on him; the hurt and damage. His honesty to her? Stacy said they were both in tears. As much as he wanted it. As much as he wanted to go back, he realized that he couldn't endure the devestation of a second breakup. Couldn't risk it. She told me that he was right. She hadn't realized until that moment how much he still felt for her; and how much pain he had suffered after she left. Guess you were right about that, at least. She had asked me what House was like after she split. I told her that he was the same narcissistic jerk he'd always been."
"As if he'd reveal anything else to you. No, the hurting side. That, he saved for me. But morphine? Isn't that a little extreme, even for House?"
"I thought that, too. I was wrong. Do you know that he's been to three pain specialists in the last year? He got it into his head that if he could deal with the pain, he might be better able to work it out with Stacy. Of course that was before he broke it off."
"He told you that?"
"When he was told me about the Ketamine studies and why he wanted to do it. The specialists told him nothing he hadn't already figured out himself. Nothing was working but the Hydrocodone. And with the breakthrough pain he's been having the last couple of months, he was at the end of his rope. We sure as Hell didn't help. The morphine was a last resort."
"You sure about that?"
"He doesn't want this. He feels trapped. He knows that his liver is living on borrowed time; he knows that he can't take any more Vicodin than he already is. About two and a half weeks ago, he started using morphine IV. Low dose and infrequent, just to cut the pain. He hadn't been sleeping. He said he couldn't think. If he couldn't think, what use was he as a doctor. It was his Hail Mary pass. But he also knew that it couldn't be long term, as he became dependent on the morphine and would need more and more. That's why he came to me with the Ketamine research."
House stirred again, this time opening his eyes. "Cuddy. Untie me." He was smiling groggily.
"So little Greggy Sunshine has decided to rejoin the world?"
"Just so I could say 'told you so' Jimmy. You were so wrong. See? I'm still here. Alive."
"How much do you remember?" Cuddy was still concerned about his earlier disorientation. Do you remember being shot?"
"Something. Was I really skiing?" Alarm bells rang in both Cuddy and Wilson. "Maybe not. I'm still a little hazy."
"You were shot by an intruder. Twice. Once in the abdomen; once in the neck. Once you were out of danger, I did the procedure we talked about. That was five days ago. I brought you out of it this morning and you've been sleeping it off."
"I remember that we were going to do the Ketamine thing. I don't…I…shot? I dreamed about getting shot in the snow. But…" House tried to control a rising panic. He knew that memory disruptions were common, though temporary. He'd been shot? "Where? Where was I shot?"
"I just told you." Cuddy's panic was not nearly so controlled. She rushed to his side, whipping out a penlight.
"No. Not anatomically. Where…"
"Your office," replied Wilson. Horror filled House's eyes in response to the new information as he tried to put it together and recall. Anything.
"Was anyone else….?"
"You seemed to be his only target." House breathed out in relief.
"And here I was thinking that I valiantly placed myself in front of Cuddy over here, taking a bullet for our beloved Dean of Medicne. I am so crushed."
Both Wilson and Cuddy were visibly relieved to see the reappearance of House's so-called sense of humor.
"How's the pain?"
"Until you mentioned it, I hadn't…" They all smiled at that. "Well, I won't know until I try to use it, now will I?"
Cuddy knew what he was asking. "Not quite yet. Let's get you off all of these machines, check you out completely. Then maybe we can go for a little walk. When you're ready. You've been through a lot and you're still recovering from some serious injuries." Cuddy noticed House's eyes were involuntarily closing. "You're still a little drowsy from the meds. Take it slow. Maybe let's try this evening? OK?"
"Yeah. Sounds good." And he was asleep again.