The next morning, House and Wilson slept upstairs at a cot at San Lazaro Hospital; As a result, House hadn't slept. It was now nine in the morning for almost 12 hours since the storm. House got up and got ready for the long day ahead.
House shook Wilson's shoulder. "Jimmy? You awake?"
"Greg? What time?" Wilson asked, groping for his phone, House checked his phone, it was 6:30 AM. They stood up to start their first-day post-Super typhoon.
The first order of business was to go to the headquarters to meet with some reporters. They would be off to Laguna. "It's still early, Greg, go back to bed."
"I am wide awake already, I hadn't slept last night," House said.
Wilson knew it; this was the reason why they came to the conference so early. House needed to acclimatized with his surroundings. He nodded his head and got off the bed without a word; House joined him out.
As soon as they went outside, the maternity ward where they slept was buzzing. Babies were being born. A local doctor; who they had met last night asked. "Dr. House, Dr. Wilson, welcome to the Philippines, do you want to help us? I know you were going to Laguna, but…" Her voice trailed out.
House and Wilson looked at one another, nodding their heads. They went to the Emergency room, or more accurately, what was left of it. There were shards of glass everywhere; the ceiling was gone. The hospital was overwhelming with people.
A man was being brought, House knew, was a subacute subdural hematoma. "Head injury," He told Wilson.
A doctor overheard him. "There is no electricity, Dr. House. We can't tell."
House loved this sort of army doctor type job; he felt to be much closer to his father by doing this. "Look at him! He just had a seizure, there is a tinge of vomit on his face. Definitely unconscious. Look at his eyes; there is redness, blood. His optic nerve is blown. Where is his wife?" A woman in her early thirties went and approached him. "Did your husband fell?" He asked in Tagalog, his accent perfect.
The woman looked startled; she couldn't quite figure out why House was speaking her language. She answered him in Tagalog. "In our house, he was fixing the roof."
That was the only thing House needed to hear, "Is the OR open or there is too much damage?"
The doctor nodded. "The ceiling fell down yesterday during the storm."
"Get me ketamine and a drill."
Wilson pulled him aside. "House, You're not a surgeon." Wilson reminded in an undertone.
"No, Wilson, thanks for the reminder, you do it, I'll assist," House said sardonically.
Wilson nodded; he led the man's two neighbors to an open bed. He washed his hands with antiseptic alcohol and put on gloves. He placed the drape around the man's head. "Get her out of here!" He said, and the woman who was holding her husband's hand left.
There were no monitors because there was no power. House counted the breaths and heart rate manually. His obsessive behavior was not a hindrance, it was his greatest asset.
Wilson drilled in the patient's temple; the blood was vacated. He looked at his partner, who was calculating everything, "Heart rate is 90, Breathing 25. You have a stethoscope?" House asked. A nurse handed him the stethoscope. "Ninety Beats, not tachycardic, Ready to close, Doctor Wilson?" Wilson nodded and sutured the man's temple. "Where is the recovery area."
"There is no recovery room." A doctor reminded Wilson. "It was destroyed, Dr. Wilson."
"I know, dammit, sorry. " Wilson spoke out loud. "Are there any rooms so that this person could recover?"
"We have the ward." The local doctor said; as they loaded the man in a gurney.
Hours later, there were about to leave for Laguna; however, their ride was nowhere to be found. They wanted to visit their patient; Keith Sumulong was a Thirty-Two-year-old man who was brought to the ER when he fell off the roof. "Good Afternoon, my name is Dr. Gregory House, You can call me Gorio for short." House was speaking in Tagalog. "Kamusta po kayo?"
Keith answered in Tagalog as well. "I am doing relatively okay."
Wilson watched House's interaction with this man. There wasn't any animosity or mockery in his voice, unlike in Princeton. House was genuinely educating the man about what had been done. At that moment, Wilson knew why; they regarded House like everybody else. They had no idea or even they had, but people just chalked it on him being a nonnative.
"Maraming Salamat, Dr. House."
House turned, gave genuine an open smile.
They hadn't eaten since last night, it was nearing two. They walked into the worse disaster zone House had ever seen. The streets were littered with dead people; or their love ones searching for them.
They had their bags with them wherever they go. A woman asked them if they for spear change; House hesitated; not because he didn't want to give but what if other people saw him, they would want his money. He gave in though; He fished out on his wallet a fifty peso bill; and gave it to the woman.
Lucky for them, there was an open seven-11 convenient store; they went inside and got food. They both ordered sisig; It was okay, it wasn't great. "Greg," Wilson said, looking at House. "You did well with Keith today. Where was that person in Princeton?"
House shrugged, narrowing his eyes. "I don't know, In Princeton, everybody is betting for me to fail. Here, they want a good doctor who could fix them up."
Well said, Greg; people hated you because you can be forward. He could remember one incident of House being himself at work, the CEO Carlie Forlano was brought to the hospital with leg pain, that was caused by a DVT. House talked with her; she admitted to him that she had Bulimia. The patient ended up needing a new heart. Greg had lied to the transplant committee. He thought, picking up his spoon and resume eating.
After eating, they got back to San Lazaro Hospital. Their ride was waiting for them. It was a four-wheel army truck. House had a harder time than the last getting in, so Wilson helped by pushing him up.
The drive from Manila to Laguna was an adventure on its own. It was a ghost town; no cars, no people milling around. However, the wind blew so many infrastructures, billboards didn't survive. The travel stops and gas stations, along the road, were leveled to the ground.
The end of the South Luzon Expressway, the main highway going to Laguna, was unlike any other catastrophe that House had seen. Worse than hurricane Katrina and Sandy combined. Calamba City was flattened.
"There had been a landslide in the town of Liliw." Said a Philippine Army personnel.
"What?" House asked, dismayed.
"Yes, Doctor, Rescue personnel is unable to get there."
House cursed under his breath, a glance towards Wilson suggested that his partner was thinking the same thing. "How could this happen?" House asked; it was a rhetorical question. "God, this is worse than New Orleans, How about the people?"
Wilson was reminded of how House's empathy works. House was a very empathetic person, but he had it shown in the big things, like a calamity or civil rights. He wouldn't show care for a random broken leg.
Wilson was reminded of how House's empathy works. House was a very empathetic person, but he had it shown in the big things, like a calamity or civil rights. He wouldn't show care for a random broken leg.
"We actually need doctors in Liliw right now; there is a tent near the church." The same army personnel told them.
They were nearing Santa Cruz; the provincial capital, thirty minutes to 'ground zero;' the truck stopped at the capitol, they needed to ride a tricycle.
A Philippine tricycle was like the German ones used in old war movies except with a roof. House sat in the back of the motorcycle, and Wilson inside the sidecar.
The streets or what was left of it; was littered with people crying for their dead loved ones. While others were laughing to forget the chasm in their lives. Trees were hit hardest; with winds of over two hundred miles, no wonder the damage it posed.
They got to Magdalena the second township to Liliw from Santa Cruz, the tricycle stopped. "We can't go on." The driver said. "Too much mud," He added. "You should walk."
"Can you manage, Greg?" Wilson asked from the inside of the trike.
House was angry; he hated it when people asked him that as if he can't. "I can manage, James.." House got his cane from his bag; it was a collapsible one. It was nearing nighttime.
He could call his father, and they could hitch a ride on a Tiltroter plane and forget about this. However, he had wanted to do this for a while now. Regardless of how unplanned this particular trip was.
House liked being in Katrina in 2005, as a doctor, volunteering; he met his best friend and the love of his life. It had been fourteen years; four in friendship, 9 years together and six years of marriage, he wanted to feel much closer to his spouse. Now that the honeymoon period of their relationship was well over and replaced by their hectic lives.
They walked from Magdalena to Liliw, with the GMA news crew behind. There wasn't any electricity, so the streets were dark. They then manage the walk. 40 minutes later, they had arrived in Liliw.
End of Chapter 6
AN: Creative liberties had been taken.