a/n: I want to thank everyone that has provided wonderful comments thus far. They have really helped in my development of this story and given me several ideas.
I have updated the soccer conversation at the end of chapter 8. Thanks to gypsy-butterfly for setting me straight on Australian rules football. It is great to have an Aussie keep me honest with my cultural assumptions!
Anyway, enjoy chapter 9 and as usual thanks for taking time to read it.
This was getting to be a familiar sight; Dr. Wilson fast asleep by House's side in a chair offering little comfort. "Dr. Wilson." Chase started shaking him a little.
Wilson slowly opened his glassy eyes, realized who it was and then closed them again. "I'm still sleeping. Go away."
Chase smiled. Wilson was starting to get too cozy here. "Wouldn't your apartment be a little more comfortable right now?"
"Sure, a strange place with nothing but unpacked boxes everywhere. No thanks."
Chase decided it was best to leave Wilson alone and check on House. As he poured through the data from the previous evening, he found not much had changed. House still had a fever, the abdomen was badly swollen, and he was unconscious. Things weren't worse though, so that provided some relief. Chase sat in the chair next to Wilson, enjoying the brief moment of peace he used to get every morning before all this happened.
Wilson opened his eyes once again and noticed Chase next to him lost completely in deep thought. Actually, it wasn't thought. He was zoning and looked rather exhausted. "Rough night?"
"I was up until 3am talking with Cameron."
"Just talking?" Wilson asked with a prying smile. "You two didn't..."
"No!" Chase replied smacking down any hint of suggestion. "I think it was the first civilized and fun conversation we have had in a long time. Come to think of it, we never have talked like that."
"That's good to know. When House wakes up I can collect on our bet."
Chase was less than amused by Wilson's gossipy candor. "I'm not sure I want to know what this one is about."
"House said all it would take is one intense moment of stress and you two would be in each other's arms providing "physical" comfort. The key word there was "physical". Talking doesn't count, so I win."
"When did you make this bet?" Chase mentally acknowledged that House wasn't exactly wrong, but his timing could be off.
"A few weeks ago."
"Congratulations. You win your bet." Chase gave him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.
"Ah, I can see by the look in your eyes he wasn't entirely incorrect. I'll stop there though because he was wrong for the bet I want to enjoy my rare moment of glory."
Wilson glared with astonishment the huge stack of files that Chase brought with him. "You shouldn't let those stack up like that. Want to know House's secret?"
"I think I'm too scared to know. I'm not going to become an accessory to a crime, am I?"
"He never reads the charts. He opens and signs."
Chase wasn't all that surprised. "I had a feeling that was the case. As a joke, one of the nurses slipped in a cafeteria order. When I asked her about it, she said House signed it all the time. I guess that is their little test to verify that doctors are reading what they are signing. She was impressed that I passed her test. Apparently I was the first in a long time."
"Oh, so that's how I ended up with a turkey on rye the other day. I thought someone was just being nice." Wilson spoke with a rather straight face. Chase looked at him with some disappointment, and then Wilson began to smile. "No, they tried that with me a while ago. If you pass their test, you only get it once, unless you're an ass like House, in which they do it all the time."
"I'm too new an attending to start that behavior. I can be irresponsible like House when I get some tenure."
"Suit yourself." Wilson leaned back and gave himself at big stretch. He was having a hard time with motivation this morning. "Is Foreman going to be back later?"
"Yes, and then we present the options to our patient's mother." Chase grabbed his temples. He wasn't looking forward to that conversation.
Wilson easily noticed Chase's aggravation. "I see that thought is bothering you."
"The last conversation I had with the mother was rather unnerving."
"How so?"
"She did everything she could to get me to act spiritually. She even recited a prayer to the guardian angels that has had a deep personal meaning to me for years. I'm not sure how she ended up saying that one since it isn't too common. In the end, I could swear the conversation had nothing to do about her daughter. She was focusing on me."
Wilson easily saw what had happened. "From all my experience with patient's families, I see two possible explanations for that behavior. First, she is trying to manipulate you. Maybe if she evokes a fear of God, you will in the end do what she wants. The second, she is through evangelism trying to save your soul. In this case, it is likely a combination of both."
"Have you ever had a situation where you were asked to use your faith when treating a patient?"
"I had a patient one time, an elderly Jewish woman with pancreatic cancer. Her family strictly followed the principles of Jewish medicine and were less than pleased that I was not a committed follower of Jewish law."
"If I recall correctly the Jewish law for physicians is rather strict and well spelled out."
"Yes, somewhat. With all law there is grey area. It requires that everything possible must be done for every patient in terms of preserving life, treating illness, and relieving suffering. All therapeutic decisions must be in the patient's best interests and the safest, gentlest treatment for a given condition must always be the preferred one."
"So what happened?"
"Through insistence of the patient, the family decided that being the doctor I was the ultimate authority in all medical manners and I was doing all that was possible to preserve life, which is another strict rule of the law. I managed to give her 4 more years that many thought she wouldn't have. In the end, they were grateful."
Chase nodded, glad to know that his struggle was not unique.
"How did you end up talking to the mother? I thought that was Cameron's patient?"
"Mrs. Harris got all religious on her which caused her to lose all sanity. She gave me up as the religious one."
"Ouch. I can't say that has ever happened to me before."
"Yeah well, it was stupid of me to let Cameron do it. Religion and medicine should be mutually exclusive when it comes to diagnosis and treatment."
"That is true, although there are moments when it's okay to show your faith to these families. Such a display offers comfort to them in a very troubling time and doesn't affect how you do your job. Granted, it's only an issue if you are uncomfortable with your faith. I can't help you there. Only you can draw that line."
Chase silently considered each one of Wilson's words. He was exactly right.
"Well, it is time for me to go be an Oncologist now. Don't spend too much time in here. House would see that as weakness."
"It's the best place in the world to do paperwork. I'm gone as soon as I'm done."
Wilson smiled. "Then you will be here all day. Let me know if anything changes."
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Foreman walked into the conference area with intense enthusiasm. His trip was a very productive one.
"I sense that your visit at the hospital went very well." Chase instantly noticed the excitement in Foreman's face. "Or was it the visit with the girlfriend?"
"Both actually, but the consult with Dr. Stephenson was fascinating. I was there as they implanted stimulation nodes into the brain of someone suffering from severe depression. Granted such treatment is a desperate last course, but the other person who had it done is able to function normally again for the first time in years. While this country might be reluctant to do this with coma patients, they are finding a multitude of conditions that deep brain stimulation is helping. The positive results for Parkinson's patients were inspiring."
"So what did you learn about waking people from comas?"
"The stimulation that happens itself is very simple. The tricky part is afterward. That is what we will need to discuss with the mother."
"I'll page Cameron and let her know you are back. We can all go, but I'm only there to observe since my name is on the case. You and Cameron will do all the talking, and I really hope it's mostly you. Mrs. Harris will appreciate your optimistic yet realistic views."
"I have to admit, after seeing all their techniques and promising results, I'm inspired to consider research in that field. The opportunities are huge right now."
Cameron walked in as Foreman was talking. "Research, huh? Wasn't running your own grant a dream of yours? Anyway, I'm ready to have the talk now."
"Let's go," Foreman said and all three proceeded.
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The three doctors respectfully entered the hospital room while the latest circle of friends prayed for their fallen angel. Mrs. Harris heard the slow and soft entrance and put a stop to the prayers as soon as she saw the brooding look in each one of their eyes. "We need to be alone right now," she told the others. They filed out one by one, offering a show of support to their friend as they left.
"Mrs. Harris, I just got back from visiting with a deep brain stimulation expert in Philadelphia. We have an option for you, but it requires serious consideration." Foreman delivered his words with his normal professional confidence, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for the woman looking at him with tired and terrified eyes.
He proceeded with his consultation when he could tell that despite the fear, Mrs. Harris was ready to hear everything. "We want to try a non-evasive procedure called electronic brain stimulation. Before I explain the procedure though, you are being asked for a deep commitment if you agree to this. Your daughter will be part of an experimental research study. That will require a lifetime of follow up tests, tracking and logging her progress at home, and possible further experiments. I cannot guarantee that such participation will improve her quality of life. She might feel like a lab rat and could end up resenting that. You will need to look at the bigger picture and realize all this trouble has the potential to help countless others for years to come."
Mrs. Harris was trying to keep a strong facade, but it was easy to tell that inside she was emotionally crumbling. "That is something I never considered. I'll keep that under advisement. Explain the procedure to me."
Foreman continued. "What will happen is we attach an electrified cuff to your daughter's wrist. It will send a small charge, enough for her to make her hand clench and arm tremble. The charge will be transported through the median nerve, which is a major pathway to the brain. She will get two one to two hour sessions a day. If there are any positive results, you may not see them for at least a week or more."
"That sounds rather simple. I can tell from your look though that it is anything but. What bad can happen from this?"
"Since she has already had a subdural hematoma, she is at a greater risk of bleeding in the brain or stroke. Also, with any type of stimulation, any brain function is at risk of deteriorating. Messing with the brain produces often unpredictable results."
Mrs. Harris nodded, thus indicating that she understood all the information she was trying to process. "What good can come from this, other than waking from the coma?"
"Studies have shown overall improved brain function. Results vary from case to case, but the general trend is improvement in all aspects of brain activity."
"What if I don't do this and take my chances with the coma?"
Foreman didn't hesitate to answer, but his expression changed to a more somber feel. "She will need to be transferred to a brain injury rehabilitation facility for proper follow up care."
Mrs. Harris immediately broke out in tears. She personally knew what that meant. "Those centers don't try to help their patients. I saw my Uncle rot in one of those places. I can't let her go there. She is too young to be written off. You should try the brain stimulation."
Cameron decided it was time to intervene given the desperation level. "Mrs. Harris. Statistics show that many of the brain injured awake within a year. You don't have to do this now. You have time."
"Are there any other options if this doesn't work?" Mrs. Harris asked as she gained control of her malaise.
Foreman answered. "There are more aggressive therapies. Japanese researchers have been implanting electrodes at the base of the skull and transport constant signals between a cuff on the arm and the electrodes. They have been able to wake patients that have been in a persistive vegetative state for years. The technology keeps getting better."
"Luckily, your daughter isn't that bad yet where such aggressive treatment is needed." Cameron added with her usual empathetic tone. "You don't have to rush into any option."
"So, the only question is should I do this now, or wait?"
Cameron nodded.
Mrs. Harris turned away and stared at her helpless child lingering in the bed. "I need time to think and pray. I will let you know what I decide."
The three ducklings empathetically respected her wishes and wordlessly gathered toward the door.
"Dr. Chase."
Chase had stood quietly and respectfully in the background the entire time intentionally avoiding the discussion. He only wanted to intervene if he was needed. "Yes Mrs. Harris."
"I'm not asking this from you as the doctor, but from you as a humble servant. Would you please pray with me?"
"I'm not sure..."
"Please." Mrs. Harris turned around and gazed at him intently.
Chase looked into her desperate eyes and knew she needed someone. He silently nodded in acceptance of her request. The other two doctors left to leave them alone.
Mrs. Harris grabbed his hand and they bowed their heads. She tried to speak her words, but found herself at a complete loss. She started sobbing.
"I don't know what to pray for anymore. I'll confess, I've been cheating lately. I'm supposed to pray to God for strength and to accept his will and mercy. In reality though, the entire time I'm praying the way I'm supposed to, I'm secretly wishing she will live. God knows it, he sees it. He sees right through me."
"I don't think he blames you for not wanting to let go."
"I'm having trouble seeing God's purpose for this. Maybe it is because I'm tired and emotionally exhausted. If God wanted me to let her go, she would have died by now, right? She has been kept alive for a reason. If you asked me two days ago about the procedure, I wouldn't have even hesitated with an answer. I don't know what has changed."
Chase completely understood what was happening. "The reality of the situation has changed. Waiting tends to force the mind to think things through."
"So God has chosen her then for a lifelong science experiment? The years of soccer games and dance recitals all come down to this? What other reason could there be?"
Chase wasn't sure if he should mention this to her confused state of mind, but there was one other reason. "Sometimes these things happen as a test of faith."
Mrs. Harris got a stunned expression and sank down into a nearby chair. "I have never wanted to consider it. Nothing in my heart could think that. I'm blindsided by love of my child though. Tell me, as an outside observer, do you think all this could just my test?"
Chase looked into Mrs. Harris' heartbroken eyes and then over to the little girl in a peaceful slumber. He suddenly realized that he was wrong. There was more to this. "No, this is not just your test."
She drew a long stuttered breath and realized at that moment what she must do.
"We will proceed with the brain stimulation now." A soft flow of tears started running down her cheeks.
"I'll let Dr. Cameron and Dr. Foreman know."
"Please Dr. Chase, keep praying to the guardian angels for me. I think I'm scaring them away."
He smiled at her ability to find even the slightest humor in this intense situation. "Don't worry. The angels would never leave Emily. She is too precious a soul to them, and to you."
