Except he couldn't think like that, he couldn't think like House's life was already lost, he had to be strong and he had to make sure that his friend got the best treatment there was. There was the ethical debate as to whether or not he should be the one to treat House but he decided to let his friend make that decision.
He left the nurses to make House comfortable as he approached Cuddy with Greg's CT scan results. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what I see?" she asked, looking at the befallen look on Wilson's face.
He put the scan up on the glass box and switched it on. Cuddy saw it straight away. "Christ, how long has he been walking around with that in his head?" she asked.
"Who knows? The amount of Vicodin he takes would have masked any pain he would have felt and we both know that seizures aren't always the first symptom of a brain tumour."
"What are his chances?"
"From the position and the size, I'm guessing it's Astrocytoma, which can be operable depending on what grade it is. He'll need an MRI and possibly a biopsy to confirm it though. No matter what the outcome he'll need chemo and radiotherapy."
"Operable?"
"I can't tell you that without speaking to a neurosurgeon. I'd say it's a toss up as to who you ask because it's close to the brain stem, but not close enough to appear inoperable."
"I want the best on his case. You'll take care of the cancer, I'll get on to the neurosurgeon," Cuddy told him, answering his own question as to whether or not he should treat his friend.
"I'll go and make him comfortable. He was complaining of pain before the seizure, I'll give him some Demerol." Wilson gave Cuddy a nod and headed to the drug lock up. The previous syringe had been cleared away in the excitement after Greg's seizure.
He drew up 75mg of Demerol with an anti-emetic, pocketing the two syringes, he headed to Greg's room.
House was still semi-unconscious when he entered the room, but he moved his head when he heard Wilson slid the door open and then closed.
"How you feeling?" Wilson asked, seeing his friend pry his eyes open slowly.
"Foggy, head hurts, what happened?" House asked, sounding nothing like himself. He sounded hurt, scared and worried and those were attributes that Wilson had never thought he would apply to his friend.
"I got your some Demerol for that," Wilson told him, producing the syringes from his pocket
"See, I knew you'd score for me," House said, a wry grin appearing on his face. That was more like his old friend. Wilson swabbed the end of the injection port and pushed the Demerol slowly. He saw House visibly relax as it hit his blood stream.
"I got you some companzine too," Wilson told him, swapping syringes and pushing the anti-emetic.
"That's just gonna knock me out," House said, already slurring his speech.
"Yeah, well you've been through a lot in the past 24 hours and your body could do with a rest."
"What's going on, Jimmy?" House asked, his eyes half closed as the effects of the drugs hit him.
"Get some rest first," Wilson said, wanting to prolong telling his friend the horrible news.
"Don't treat me like one of your patients, tell me," House demanded, forcing his eyes open and looking at his friend through bleary eyes.
Wilson sighed deeply before he began. "We found a tumour, Greg. It's in your cerebellum, borderline to your brain stem. It's probably what caused you to crash your bike."
"Is it operable?"
"We don't know yet, but you'll get the best care, Cuddy's calling a neurosurgeon and I'll take care of the cancer side for you. We'll beat this, Greg."
"Don't call me, Greg. It makes me feel like I'm dying or something."
IYou might be/I Wilson thought.
"I want Foreman."
"What for?"
"I want him to be my neurosurgeon. I know he's the best, I hired him."
Wilson had not been expecting that, "I'll call him. Do you want me to talk to the others?"
House thought for a moment. "You might as well, it's not like Foremen will keep it a secret. Just tell them I'm too sick for visitors and if Cameron cries, send her home so she can't come tell me how sorry she is that I'm sick, 'kay?"
Wilson smiled. "Sure."
"Go do it now, I need to sleep."
"I'll have a nurse come sit with you," Wilson said, aware that they had yet to start Greg on something that would stop the seizures. He was reluctant to do anything until House had seen the neurologist.
"Fine, whatever," House said, dismissing Wilson with a wave of his hand.
Before he headed off to House's office where he would probably find all three ducklings, he got a nurse to sit with House. "Page me if anything happens and I mean Ianything/I."
"Yes, doctor," the nurse said before she opened the sliding door to House's room.
Now all Wilson had to do was tell House's staff what was going on and somehow he didn't think that was going to be too easy.