The following Thursday, Dominika set up the chairs in the conference while the man from the building catering service laid out coffee, tea, water, and various pastries for the meeting.
"You know, I'm surprised Dr. Cameron isn't here," Foreman mused. "Guess they went light on her."
"I don't know who that is," said Dominika. "There!" The chairs were in an exact circle.
"She was one of the first fellows, along with me and Dr. Chase. Probably got off easy because she didn't commit some major crime, like forgetting to vacuum his office. You didn't have to deal with House professionally. I mean, okay, he's brilliant, but he was still an asshole." Foreman paused, feigning amazement: "You could say that he was a genius whose pushing and taunting helped us all to be better doctors! You could also say the man was an ass who enjoyed ripping apart his employees to the point where any of us could have reported him to Human Resources!"
"Then why didn't you?" Chase entered, doing a pitch-perfect imitation of the members of the panel. "How could you not realize that the man made racist remarks to you because of the suffering he was in? Give me an effing break. Hi, guys. Anyone know who's on the chopping block?"
"Cuddy." Foreman looked sad. "They will reduce her to mincemeat."
Wilson walked in. "Considering they almost drove me to commit homicide, I wouldn't be at all surprised."
The same people gathered as before: Taub, Stacy, Dr. Nolan, Lydia and Dr. Helen Martin. Martha Masters hadn't shown, but that was fine because everyone knew she wouldn't be around for long anyway. There was also a handsome, slightly stout man who appeared to be Indian-American.
After greetings (but no hugs, this was not a hugging crowd), everyone settled in their chairs.
"Has anyone heard from Cuddy?" asked Wilson. "I left her a message."
"No." Foreman looked around at the group. "But we have a very special guest. This is Dr. Musheer Chakravarti." Quickly Foreman went through the introductions. When it came to their guest, he announced, "Dr. Chakravarti was House's pain specialist."
Dr. Chakravarti nodded his head. "I'm happy to meet all of you."
A gasp went around the room. "Pain specialist?" Wilson managed. "House had a pain specialist? Why didn't anyone of us know about this?"
"Dr. House was a private man. I worked with him after his leg operation."
Wilson leaned forward, looking Dr. Chakravarti in the eyes. "I knew House for twenty years. I knew him before and after the infarction. I never, ever heard him mention you."
The doctor averted his eyes. "I told you, Dr. House was a private man."
Chase tapped his finger against his chin. "I've heard of you. You don't work for PPTH."
"I work with the Trenton Medical Center and Wilmington Memorial Hospital."
"I don't get it," Wilson said. "If that's true, where didn't he stay with us?"
"It was important for Dr. House to have a level of privacy about the treatment he was seeking. He did not care to have people he knew or worked with to know about his pain management regime."
"So did you report any of his treatment issues to me, as his primary care physician, or to Dr. Cuddy, his supervisor?"
"No, I did not. Dr. House specifically requested that none of his medical records leave my office. I honored that request."
"So you didn't tell his primary care physician, so I had no knowledge of what drugs he was taking, or what sort of physical therapy he was receiving? You give him the wrong meds, who the hell knows what's gonna happen? " Wilson exclaimed. "And that panel of tyrants is saying WE were unethical?"
Wilson was about to lose it. Foreman stepped in. "When was this?"
"And why didn't I know about you?" Stacy burst out. "I was living with him!"
"By the time I started working with him, you weren't living with him any longer. As I recall, it was six months after the surgery. He had initially attempted to work with a pain management specialist within Princeton-Plainsboro, but found that there were privacy issues connected with that decision. He discovered that people at the hospital who should have had no connection to his case were discussing his treatment, which I must say, was both unethical of them and aggravating to Dr. House."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Wilson burst out. "Unethical? Unethical? The man discussed cases in the elevator! He told a neighbor that I slept with one of my patients!"
"You did?" said Dr. Martin. Wilson looked chagrined.
"Uh, I didn't mean to say that."
"We all knew, Wilson," said Taub. He turned to Dr. Chakravarti. "House enjoyed browbeating all of us about our private lives. It was one of the reasons he was, um, difficult to work with."
"He felt that the PPTH approach to his recovery was unsatisfactory," said Dr. Chakravarti defensively. "For a long while, he was not mobile enough to seek treatment elsewhere. In later years he consulted me about possible superior methods to treat his pain. Methadone was particularly successful."
"You prescribed him the methadone?" Foreman's eyebrows shot up.
"Yes. It had the effect of eliminating his pain entirely. I warned him about the possible side-effects, and that he had to make changes in his lifestyle, such as no drinking."
Wilson shook his head as if to clear it. "Let me get this straight—you prescribed House methadone, again without consulting me? I thought he got it from a dealer!"
"To my surprise, he gave it up, saying it dulled his mind. His mind was his greatest pride, as I am sure you all know."
"Yes," came the chorus.
Dr. Chakravarti smiled. "At first, Dr. House came to me only after he was able to drive himself to our appointments."
"Of course!" Wilson threw up his hands. "Before that, Stacy and I drove him everywhere."
"James, it was the least we could do," said Stacy. "Greg was in agony."
"Dr. House said you made the decision to operate on his leg without his consent," Dr. Chakravarti said to her.
"I was his medical proxy!" She stared at Dr. Chakravarti. "I still feel terrible about my decision...I watched the man I loved going through hell..." Her eyes grew wet. "The idea that you can sit at the bedside of someone you deeply love and watch him die-–that's so noble?" Tears slid down her face. "He had a heart attack and was dead for over a minute! You can judge me as much as you need to. Greg was an incredible doctor, but he didn't know he'd be okay without the surgery." She gave an ironic laugh. "He might have thought he was God, but he would say if God exists, even God makes mistakes." She carefully wiped under each eye with her finger, trying not to smear her makeup.
Foreman folded his arms. "Wait. If you weren't letting his primary care physician know about House's treatment, what insurance company were you billing?"
"I was billing his insurance company," said Dr. Chakravarti. "As I would with any other patient."
"Did you claim to be his primary care physician?"
"Of course not. I'm a pain specialist, not a general practitioner."
"Then how could you bill his insurance company without a referral from Dr. Wilson?" Foreman leaned back in his chair.
Wilson looked at Foreman. "You're right. His health insurance requires that any specialist seen by a patient has to have a referral from his primary care practitioner."
"Dr. House never said anything of that nature to me," said the doctor.
"I think he claimed to have a referral from Dr. Wilson. That's why he never contacted the hospital," said Chase. "Because he was too busy committing insurance fraud."
"I resent that accusation!" Dr. Chakravarti spluttered.
"Probably why you and Stacy were in the dark," Chase continued. "He saw House for a few sessions, but kept billing the insurance company."
"I do not have to stand for these ridiculous accusations," said Dr. Chakravarti. "We worked on an intensive regimen—"
"That neither Stacy nor I knew about," finished Wilson. "House could keep a secret, but not from me, and not for that long. You saw him, but not more than a few times. You knew something would go wrong if he was given medications that interacted badly with each other, or if his 'regimen' caused his injury to worsen, and you knew that I would know immediately. Because I wasn't just his doctor, I was his best friend."
"You paid no attention to the man!"
"I wrote his prescriptions—the ones I knew about! He's the one who was too much of a bullheaded ass to get help after he quit treatment at Princeton-Plainsboro! How do I know that? He broke up my second marriage because I spent more time with him than with my wife!"
"Everyone, let's break for coffee, and maybe try to lower the temperature in here?" said Foreman.
"I'm leaving," said Dr. Chakravarti. "This inquisition is vindictive, wrongheaded and a waste of my time!" He stormed out, slamming the conference room door behind him. There was a long silence.
"Why does that remind me of something?" asked Wilson.