"Dr. House!" The orthopedist greeted the other man brightly after his week-long attendance of a trauma conference in the glorious sun of the Hawaiian Islands.
House looked up from his fries, only briefly meeting his eyes. "Dr. Morgan," he echoed somewhat obnoxiously. "So glad to see you're back with us." He felt more than saw Wilson roll his eyes at the unveiled sarcasm.
Morgan just kept smiling slightly, apparently unmoved by the other man's rudeness. "I'd like to speak with you briefly later if you've got the time… Could you step by my office when you have a minute?"
House looked up again with a small frown. "I look like Usain Bolt to you? We're here now. So – what's up."
Morgan briefly looked at Wilson, then at House again. "Maybe it'd be better if we – "
"This about Wilson? Might as well say it now 'cause he's gonna hear about it anyway. – So, spit it out."
Somewhat reluctantly, Morgan gave Wilson a small smile before sitting down on the bench next to him. "Okay, so… I hear you've dislocated your shoulder last week."
The frown on House's face deepened. "Yeah? So what."
Morgan now opened the chart he had been holding, briefly skimming over some notes. "It says here that it was successfully reduced, apparently, but that you refused control x-rays."
When no immediate response was coming, he calmly clarified his question: "Why is that, Dr. House?"
Just a shrug, so he simply continued: "As you know, a control x-ray after a joint dislocation is standard procedure and necessary to exclude the possibility of a fracture or other complications. You'd have ordered x-rays yourself for any one of your patients… So, why refuse the procedure?"
House finally met his eyes again, giving him an impatient look. "I was busy, your department was busy – and I was fine!"
That finally made Morgan frown as well. "Are you saying one of my people was reluctant to order and/or carry out the procedure…? – I find that very hard to believe. It would border on malpractice to not check the joint after a closed reduction."
"I didn't say anything. You're the one who keeps talking."
Morgan simply ignored the attempted diversion.
"Did something happen between you and someone from ortho?"
He was surprised when it was Wilson who finally gave him at least a partial response.
"Well, House did mess with the diagnosis of one of your patients which – I think – led to a sort of embarrassing situation for one of your fellows. But that wasn't the guy who treated you, was it?"
"No," was all House finally replied to that.
The frown on Morgan's face deepened. "Are you telling me you had a fight with someone from my department and then someone else from my department treated you negligently?"
House started moving somewhat impatiently. "I'm just saying, the situation wasn't ideal so I wanted to get outta there."
Morgan kept staring at him, trying to decipher what had actually happened. He finally decided to change course a bit.
"Okay, House… tell my about the reduction. Textbook procedure?"
"I'm not an orthopedist."
This time, Morgan couldn't suppress a slightly impatient eye-roll himself. "You still know how to treat a dislocated shoulder. – Did it go as you would have done it?"
House averted his eyes at that. "Might have thrown in a few meds if they'd been available… other than that, yeah."
Morgan's eyebrows shot up. "You didn't receive any medication before the procedure? – No sedative? Pain meds…?"
"Was quicker like that anyway, I guess…" House replied glumly.
Silence for several long moments. Then Morgan had apparently centered himself again.
"Okay. No time like the present for that x-ray."
An exasperated eye-roll. "I'm fine."
"Oh? So, I translate that to: There's no pain now, yeah?" He casually nodded towards House's right forearm that he was holding very close to his torso, the hand resting in his lap somewhat awkwardly.
House fixed his gaze on the other man, tone angry now more than anything. "You know as well as I do that you'd expect some pain one week after a shoulder dislocation."
"Oh, so there is still some pain then."
No response.
Nodding slightly, Morgan slapped a post-it note on the table directly in front of House. "I've scheduled an appointment for you today at… oh, yeah. Right about now."
With that, he simply smiled at Wilson and got up to leave.
"Wow," was all the oncologist finally mustered, looking at House somewhat expectantly.
"Yeah… He's got some nerve."
Wilson couldn't help but smile slightly at his friend's unusually stunned response.
"Yes, House," he finally replied sarcastically, "what an ass."
"You've got a fracture in your clavicle." Dr. Morgan didn't beat around the bush, that much was clear by now.
"Great!" Following the other man's gesture, House glanced at the spot on the x-ray the orthopedist was pointing out for him.
"How did you do it anyway? Dislocate your arm, I mean." Morgan threw him a curious glance before once again focusing on the x-rays.
"Accident," House replied somewhat glumly.
"Oh, really?" Morgan gave back sarcastically. "Thought you'd most certainly done it on purpose. Nothing gets you through the week quite like a shoulder dislocation…"
A soft snort. Then: "Unhappy customer."
Morgan frowned at that. "A patient attacked you?"
"Patient's dad. – And I wouldn't exactly call it an attack. Just an… emphatic discussion, I guess."
The orthopedist threw him a skeptical look. "I see…" Then, more seriously: "You shouldn't just take something like this, House."
No response.
"Okay!" Morgan nodded towards the x-rays again. "The fracture doesn't seem to be displaced, so you don't need surgery. – But we need to immobilize the arm in a sling for a while, and you absolutely CANNOT use your cane on that side."
Just a nod.
"Technically, you're using it on the wrong side anyway... – Habit?"
House averted his gaze. "Obviously."
"There anything keeping you from trying it on your left for a while…?" For some reason, Morgan's tone was more careful suddenly, as if sensing that some part of this might be sensitive.
House hesitated briefly. "An ulnar fracture that didn't heal great." The expression on his face was unreadable.
"I see," Morgan finally replied carefully when nothing more was coming. "It's not in your chart. How long ago was this?"
The question was innocent enough, but House still looked at him sharply.
"What does it matter? Point is: It hurts when I put too much pressure on it."
Nodding slightly, the orthopedist tried to keep his voice level. "How far up?"
"Excuse me?"
"The break… how far up the arm was it?"
House indicated a spot on his left forearm close to the wrist.
Morgan's eyes followed the gesture and he nodded again. "A wrist brace might help. – And it would only be for a few weeks… Do you have full mobility in the joint?"
A minute nod.
"How long has it been?" Morgan finally repeated his earlier question.
A longer pause this time. Then: "Years." Decades. "It's perfectly stable…"
Morgan nodded slowly. "Good. 'Cause the right arm is not an option right now if you want your shoulder to heal properly." He didn't mention that a wheelchair would of course also be a viable alternative.
House nodded slightly, but didn't say anything.
"Do you want to try out that brace?" He started looking through a couple of drawers to finally hold up the item in question.
House just stared at it for a long moment.
"House…?" Morgan gently brought him back to the here and now, approaching the other man now and nodding towards his left hand.
"Can I take a look?"
After another brief hesitation, House finally held out his hand, allowing Morgan to first inspect the forearm briefly and then apply the splint.
"This should give you a little more stability. – Take the cane?"
House complied.
"Try a few steps."
He observed the other man closely. "Hurt?"
"Not right now."
"Okay… Why don't you give this a couple of days and let me help you with that sling now."
House didn't reply anything, but allowed the other man to carefully guide his arm into the sling construction and then fasten and adjust the different straps.
"You okay…?" The orthopedist finally asked when House hadn't come up with any sarcastic or otherwise inappropriate comments throughout the whole procedure. Just a nod that would almost have made Morgan roll his eyes in slowing mounting frustration. "You know that this is gonna heal just fine, right?" he then ventured, trying to come up with an idea on why his patient was so unusually quiet.
"I've been to medical school."
Simply ignoring the tone, Morgan took some more time to check the positioning of the arm.
"If you want, we can take a couple of x-rays and see whether the problem with your left arm can still be fixed, as soon as your shoulder is a little better," he finally took another wild guess hoping to somehow get House out of his strange funk that seemed related to this latest injury and following treatment recommendation.
House looked at him briefly, becoming somewhat impatient now with the long time the other man was taking.
"It's fine."
Morgan kept looking at him for a few seconds more, but finally shrugged slightly. "If you say so." His tone didn't quite match his apparent nonchalance. Then: "Let me know how the wrist brace works out for you, alright? – And don't make me ambush you in the cafeteria again; you do have my phone number…"
Just a brief nod, before House simply turned around to leave.
Morgan couldn't help but smile slightly at that.
"Always a pleasure, House…"