Chapter 5
"We have a problem." House limps into the conference room and, using his cane, pushes down the top of Foreman's newspaper.
"With who?"
"Wilson."
Cameron's eyes go wide, panic obviously setting in. She's really got to learn to control that. "What happened?
"Nothing. Except that the tumor isn't the answer."
Foreman roles his eyes and shakes his newspaper until it straightens itself out. "House, we've done an MRI. We found the tumor. It's an anaplastic astrocytoma. Sudden deterioration like we're seeing in Wilson happens with malignant astrocytoma. We've diagnosed it. It sucks, but there it is." Now, that's the Foreman he knows and loves.
"I'm not blind; I know he has a tumor. But…" he frowns, taking another tactic. "A brainstem tumor causes what?" He crosses to the whiteboard, on which all Wilson's symptoms are listed.
"Behavioral and emotional changes," Cameron starts, "Which Wilson doesn't have, but not having one or two symptoms doesn't mean--"
"I said that I know he has a tumor. I know it's cancer. I'm the realist here; you're the ever-hopeful suck-up. Just keep going."
"Trouble speaking, drowsiness, headache." House crosses them off as Foreman lists them. "Hearing loss, weakness on one side of the face and body, trouble walking, vision loss, crossed eyes, vomiting. But he doesn't have to have all of them. Especially, you know, since we've seen and biopsied the damn tumor."
"What part of what I just said don't you understand?" House steps back from the whiteboard. "I don't care what he doesn't have. I care what he has."
The words 'memory loss' and 'seizure' are circled. "Our biggest symptom, and our diagnosis doesn't explain it."
Foreman slowly shakes his head, mouth slightly open, probably preparing to protest. Then his eyes skim back over the board. "Damn."
"What else… we went through possible causes of seizures." Chase frowns. "This was what we came up with. This was it."
"Apparently not. What else is there?"
"Maybe an aneurysm that ruptured?"
"Maybe another tumor." Chase and Foreman turn to Cameron and House nods; kid is learning. Maybe. "What? We missed this because brain tumors do cause seizures, memory problems. Just not tumors in the particular location where we found this one. Maybe there's another."
"We only found the one on the MRI."
"That's because we stopped looking for anything else when we saw it. We haven't done the CT scan yet. It could have been very small, too."
"Do it," House orders. "And hope that this one's operable."
Chase shakes his head. "Two tumors in his brain. That's highly unlikely."
"When was the last time we dealt with something that was likely?" Cameron points out. "It's possible. That's what matters."
She is learning; he's just not sure why she's picking now to stand up for herself. "Foreman, I want a CT scan now. Cameron, tell Wilson."
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"How you feeling?"
"I've been better."
Cameron closes the door behind her and hovers nervously by his bedside. Wilson eyes her warily, wondering whether he's done something or House has. Probably House. "What's going on?"
She's bouncing on the balls of her feet now and staring at everything but him. "Cameron, what on Earth--"
"We… we screwed up, Wilson. All of us." She practically spits the words at him and tears track down her cheeks.
"What?" He struggles to a sitting position and in the end she stops bouncing and avoiding his eyes and moves to help him up.
"The tumor we found doesn't explain all the symptoms. House was getting worried about your memory problems and went back to the drawing board. Er, the whiteboard. Anyway, we found the tumor and jumped to conclusions, but there has to be something more. A brainstem tumor doesn't cause seizures and memory loss. It's in the wrong place."
"You're babbling," he tells her gently, but smiles in spite of himself, in spite of her.
"I know. I just… God, we were so stupid." She drops into a chair and rests her forehead in her hands.
"Cameron, I'm an oncologist and it didn't cross my mind."
"You have an excuse," she mumbles into her lap.
"The tumor isn't impairing my ability to think, or long-term recall."
"No, but you're dying. I'd say that gives you license to not be at the top of your game. The rest of us should have been. Especially now. Especially…" she trails off, the last words not needing to be spoken.
"Cameron…" He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Attempting to convince her not to blame himself is a lost cause. "Why did House send you?"
"Either he's testing my ability to deliver bad news or he's feeling guilty. Care to bet?"
"He shouldn't feel guilty." Also a lost cause.
"Well, just because he shouldn't doesn't mean he's not going to. Besides… we screwed up. We should."
"Not as much as I did."
She raises her head, finally. "You didn't--"
"I knew."
Cameron blinks. "You knew what?"
"About the tumor. Before the seizure, I knew."
Her eyes go wide. "What?"
"Dizzy spells, nausea. I was having trouble seeing, and I had a headache so bad that I passed out in my office from the pain. I knew what it was, what it had to be… what it would mean, and I couldn't deal with it." He shrugs, uncomfortable under her gaze. "So I didn't."
"Wilson--"
"It was just like with your HIV test. As long as I didn't go in, get tested, then I didn't have to really face facts."
"Wilson." She says his name sharply, forcing him to shut up and listen. "I don't know what we'll find in the CT scan. But the astrocytoma on the brainstem… a few days, even a couple of weeks wouldn't have made a difference. You have enough to deal with, without beating yourself up over this."
"Cameron--" He shakes his head and sighs.
"You know I'm right. All those symptoms you just mentioned, they can be attributed to the tumor we've already found. You could have come in a month ago and you'd be no better off now than you already are. Don't blame yourself. Or I'll tell House and he'll put you in your place."
"He does that enough without being given a reason." He hesitates, not sure he wants to ask the question. "Where is he?"
A strange look passes through her eyes, a sort of pain he can't understand, at the question. "I think he's feeling guilty."
"He shouldn't feel guilty." Not that that'll make a difference.
Cameron looks ready to cry and says softly, "I know." Then her pager sounds. She pulls it off her hip and glances at the message. "They've scheduled you for a CT scan."
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"We have good news." Foreman hands House the results of the CT. "Small tumor in the parietal lobe. Accounts for the seizures and the memory problems. And it should be operable."
"Cameron."
She pushes herself up out of the chair. "So you're going to let me deliver the good news, too? Nice. Or you could, y'know, go talk to your friend yourself."
House ignores her. "He'll agree to the biopsy, so arrange it now. Foreman, you take care of that. Chase, arrange the surgery for a couple days from now. If it turns out it's inoperable, then we'll cancel it."
Cameron hangs back after the boys trot off to do House's bidding, determined to make another attempt. "When I was down there last, he was asking for you."
He waves it off. "Don't worry; he probably doesn't remember." Callous.
"He may not remember asking for you, but he'll remember the suspicious absence of his best friend. And it's only a matter of time before he'll start to resent you for it."
"Whatever. Go tell him. And be glad you're not telling him that he has only three months to live instead of six, or whatever it was."
"House."
"Out."
"No. He's your best friend and he's in a lot of pain, and it's hurting him even more that you won't come down."
"I saw him yesterday. We talked. He cried. We hugged and I gave him such a pretty bouquet of roses. He cried more. Happy?"
"Yes, because I'm sure that made everything all better. He can die with a smile on his face now." She huffs, smacks the file against her thigh, and stalks out.
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"How you feeling?" She's got to come up with another greeting. It's just so damn hard to think of anything to say. What do you say to a terminal patient? 'Got plans for the weekend?'
"House send you with more bad news he doesn't have the guts to deliver himself?" There's not the slightest hint of amusement in his voice; his tone pains her.
"Half right." She offers him the biggest smile she can muster, which isn't much. "More news, but I think it's pretty good. We found a very small growth in the parietal lobe. It accounts for the memory problems and your seizures. Foreman said that it should be operable. House is already scheduling a biopsy and the surgery. Of course, if you don't want it, he can cancel."
"No, it's fine."
"You're sure?" Why she's asking she doesn't really know. What had she expected him to say?
A wan smile plays over his face. "I'm sure. But don't tell him that."
She blinks. "What?"
"Don't tell him that. Tell him I'm refusing treatment."
"Wilson--"
"He wants to be a bastard and hide out in his office, then I can play the game too. Tell him."
She's taken aback by the tone of his voice, but less so once she recognizes the pain underlying it. "Wilson, you're right. But… I really think he's doing it as much for your good as his."
"How do you figure that?" He frowns, his expression pained. "How, exactly, does his not being here help me?"
"Because he doesn't know how to deal with it. He doesn't visit patients because he doesn't want to get involved, because he doesn't want to get to know them. He avoids patients as much because he doesn't want to care as because they annoy him. But he can't do that with you. He's already involved; he already cares. And it scares him."
"Again, how is his absence helping me?"
"Because if he isn't here, he's not putting his pain onto you. Which he would do, automatically, and you would take it, automatically. You have enough to deal with without him crying on your shoulder. And, I guess in a way he's right to stay away. Until he gets a grip, he's not going to be able to help you."
Wilson's frown lifts slightly but he shakes his head. "Tell him anyway."
She sighs and rises, unable to deny that lying to House will give her some sort of perverse pleasure. At least, as long as she ignores the fact that it will hurt him.