"I know," Wilson told him. "You've said that before. But he requested you so will you at least check him over."
"House requested Ime/I? God, he must be sick," Foreman replied, before studying the CT. "Well, it's operable or at least I'd operate if I was a neurosurgeon…"
"Which you're not, yeah, we've covered this," Wilson interrupted.
"As I was saying, he'll need chemo first to shrink it because right now it's too close to the brain steam. You said he's having seizures?"
"Just the one so far."
"Well, I'd put him on neurotin for that, monitor him closely following the surgery he's already had, get an MRI and start chemo."
"Okay, I'll do that, but first I need to talk to Chase and Cameron."
"Why?"
"Because House wants them informed."
"I've read about these kinds of tumours changing personalities but this has got to be the first time I've seen it."
Wilson's pager went off before he could say anything. It was House's room so he made his excuses and left, telling Foreman to let Chase and Cameron know what had happened, but that so far he wasn't up to visitors and the last thing he needed was a crying Cameron turning up.
He ran to the room, something he hadn't done in a while. He could hear the monitors going haywire and guessed before he even reached the door that House was in the middle of another seizure.
A nurse had him rolled onto his side, another was keeping his airway clear and another was waiting for Wilson to arrive so that they could push the drugs.
"Two of ativan," Wilson said, barely stopping to take a breath as he took over keeping Greg's airway clear. The jerky movements slowed as the drug hit and they were able to gently roll House onto his back. Wilson checked his obs to make sure there were no signs of him having torn his stitches or caused another bleed.
"I want him started on neurotin," Wilson told the one of the nurses as she left him alone with his friend. He checked Greg's pupils whilst waiting for him to recover consciousness following the seizure "You don't deserve to be going through this, Greg. Not after Stacy and your leg and everything, you don't deserve to be fighting cancer as well," he whispered, softly. He wasn't sure how much House would be able to hear after a seizure but he wanted him to know that he wasn't alone.
"I never get what I deserve," House replied, quietly, his voice slurring slightly, as result of the drugs in his system. "Where'd you go?"
"I went to talk to Foreman, like you asked."
"I did?" Greg asked, sounding very confused.
"Yeah, you did."
"I had another one didn't I?" he asked, looking Wilson dead in the eyes.
"It wasn't as bad as the last one and we're going to start you on neurotin which should hopefully stop them completely."
"What did Foreman say?"
"It's operable, but you have to have a round of chemo first."
"Chemo, you're going to make all my hair fall out and poison my system and THEN take out the tumour that's making me sick?"
"I know it's backwards, but that's how it works in Oncology."
"Right," House said, shifting slightly and wincing.
"Pain?" Wilson asked, concerned that the Demerol he'd given his friend earlier wasn't enough to combat the massive amount of pain he must have been in.
"I'm fine," House lied, though he if he'd told the truth there wasn't much Wilson could do seeing as it hadn't been that long since his last shot of Demerol…maybe it was time to up the painkillers to morphine. Wilson made a note to talk to Cuddy about it later.
"Okay."
"When will the chemo start?" House asked, changing the subject.
"I was hoping to start the first treatment in the morning."
"Strike while the iron's hot and all that crap."
"Yeah."
"Which neurosurgeon did Foreman recommend?"
"I didn't get a chance to talk to him about that before they paged me. I can get him to come and talk to you about it if you'd like," Wilson offered.
"Yeah, that's be good, but not right now, sleepy," House said, closing his eyes as he spoke.
Wilson glanced at the monitor and checked that nothing was amiss. "Just gonna check your blood pressure," he said, tightening the cuff around his friend's arm.
"It's fine," Greg said, sounding slightly annoyed.
"I know, but humour me." He watched the monitor as the cuff tightened to get a reading.
"Did you mean it, Jimmy?" House asked, sleepily.
"Mean what?"
"When you said you loved me, back at my house while you waited for the paramedics."
Wilson swallowed several times, trying to concentrate on the numbers on the monitor and not on his friend's words.
"Did you?" House pressed.
"Your blood pressure's a little low, I'll just get an ultrasound ordered so we can check there's no bleeding," Wilson replied, heading to the door. He was not ready to have this conversation now, especially when his friend was doped up to the eyeballs.
"I hope you meant it, coz I mean it," was House's distant reply as he headed out of the room