He woke up and felt marginally better. The throbbing in his leg was still there, and so was the sweating, but neither were as bad as they had been the past few days. Then he remembered. They were making him go to support group. He groaned.
"Maybe it won't be so bad?" Kutner suggested. House jumped a little. He had forgotten about the hallucinations too. Day officially ruined.
He ignored Kutner and rubbed his stiff leg.
"You OK?" Kutner asked.
"I'm fine!" he snapped. Kutner backed up.
"Who are you talking to, Dr. House?" the nurse asked, concern clouding her voice.
"No one. Here to take me away, warden?"
The nurse laughed a bold, loud laugh and held out her hand.
"I can sit up," House informed.
"Okay," the dark-skinned nurse said and withdrew her hand. House propped himself up on his elbows and swung his left leg over the bed. He grabbed his right leg with both hands and painfully guided it next to his left. Grimacing, he held out his hand. The nurse started to pull at it, but he stopped her.
"No. Cane."
The nurse nodded and got one of the ugly metal hospital canes from the hallway and handed it to House.
"Do you want to shower first or just go?" the nurse asked, wrinkling her nose a little.
House tested the strength of his leg. Satisfied it could hold him up, albit painfully, he stood. "Shower. Can't stand that long though."
The nurse nodded and led him to a shower room, pulling a shower chair out from the closet and handing it to him, along with other shower items.
"How do I shave?" he asked.
"I can get you an electric after you shower."
House nodded and lifted himself into the shower after stripping down. The hot (ish) water felt good on his stiff leg. He rubbed it vigorously.
After he was showered and shaved, the nurse helped him into the support group room, where he sat down heavily in one of the chairs in the circle and played with his cane, tapping it on the floor. The group wouldn't start for another few minutes, so he amused himself by looking at the other patients on the ward. One was a teenager who looked like he was still in the throes, twitching and sweating. Another was an older woman who looked like she shouldn't even be here; with straight posture and a prim face.
"Alright!" a younger woman shouted and everyone quieted. "Let's start! Sit down please. Would anyone like to say how they're doing today?"
Everyone here's feeling shitty and they want drugs, House thought. As if she could read his mind, the woman looked at him.
"How about you? Tell us your name, why you're here, and how you're doing."
House sighed. If he cooperated, it might be easier to get out of here. "I'm House, I'm here because my doctor thinks I'm faking a leg injury, and I'm in fine."
"You're who?" the teenager boy asked. He twitched slightly, eye closing and opening.
"House." He studied the boy. His face was uneven; mouth drawing down on slightly on one side. "Have you seen a doctor recently?"
"Yeah...why?" the kid asked.
"You have Bell's palsy."
"Huh?"
"Alright, why don't we move on?" the leader of the group asked cheerfully, side-eyeing House. House ignored her.
"Alcohol addiction?" House asked the kid.
"Yeah..how'd you know?"
"The alcohol was masking the facial palsy by depressing the central nervous system, and thus the nerves that control your face. You should get that checked out."
The leader glared openly at him now. "And you know this how?"
House winced and rubbed his leg. The pain was coming back. Hopefully this stupid group would be over soon so he could get his dose of Methadone. "I'm a doctor...Dr. House."
"Okay, well in the future, I would appreciate it if you did not diagnose people in this group. No one asked for it. Now, let's move on."
The group moved on without House, who couldn't have participated even if he wanted to because he was biting his lip and trying not to whimper. The hard chairs weren't helping either. He sighed and wished he could go home. How long were they going to keep him here? Another week? A month? At least the hallucinations were gone for the moment. He didn't want his antipsychotics upped. They made his brain foggy and he couldn't practice medicine on antipsychotics. Besides, the hallucinations were only from the Vicodin withdrawal. When it was all out of his system, he would be back to normal.
"You? Normal?" Amber scoffed, sitting in the chair next to him. He ignored her.
"Hey, that guy doesn't look so good…" Kutner said, pointing at the teenager. He was right. The boy had totally zoned out of the conversation, but not in the way a bored person does. House knew what was going to happen before it did. The boy collapsed on the floor and started seizing.
"Shit…" House muttered under his breath. With everyone panicking around him, he stood painfully and walked over. He tried to stoop down but couldn't due to the weakness in his leg.
"Someone get him on his side! He's going to aspirate spit or possibly bite his own tongue off if you don't!" House yelled over the din. The group leader knelt next to the kid and held him on his side.
"Everyone step back! You, get a nurse and tell her to bring a shot of Ativan," House said to an older man with a beard. He walked away to get the nurse. "And find out what he's on for seizures!" House yelled after the man.
Slowly, the boy went limp. "Lie him on his back," House ordered the leader. She complied.
A nurse rushed into the room with a syringe of Ativan with the bearded man following.
"Too late," House said. "He's postictal. Now, what do you have him on for delirium tremens?"
"He shouldn't have that severe of a withdrawal. He only drank about 15 drinks a week."
"He lied. Look at his eyes." House pried the boy's eye open to reveal the yellow sclera of jaundice.
The nurse's mouth contorted into an O. "He's only fifteen…"
"Yes. But fifteen with daddy issues." House held up the boy's arm, which had several circular scars running down it.
The nurse sighed. "Regardless, his medication is none of your business."
"Fine. Well, just in case you decide you don't want a fifteen-year-old to have permanent brain damage, start him on benzos."
"We will. Thank you," the nurse assured him and walked back to her station.
House almost smiled. He didn't realize how much he had missed solving the puzzle, even if it was a four-piece puzzle with a picture of a butterfly on the box like this one. Now he just needed to get back to work, and that meant getting off the anti-psychotics. He needed a plan.
BONUS MEDICAL GLOSSARY/FACTS:
I love teaching about medical terms and if any of you are interested, here are some terms and explanations of what happened in this chapter! If you ever have any questions about the medicine or anything else in this chapter, please let me know!
Bell's Palsy: a condition in which the muscles on one side of the face become weak or paralyzed.
Alcohol depresses the central nervous system, which consists of the brain and spinal cord. Sometimes, this can make the parts of the brain that move the face weaker temporarily. (If this is wrong, please let me know because I'm not 100% on this one)
Ativan: a muscle relaxant
Postictal: the period after a seizure in which the patient may be unconscious or confused
14 drinks a week constitutes alcoholism in males
Sclera: the whites of the eyes
Benzos: abbreviation or slang for benzodiazepines. Certain types of benzodiazepines are used to treat alcohol withdrawal symptoms, including seizures.