Seriously awful medical precision with the bronchoscopy. Sorry. It's just for drama.
--
"Is your leg okay?" My mothers voice was slightly timid. I sat on my bed, my legs were stretched out in front of me, and my right thigh had gauze wrapped round it, holding a piece of white cloth in place, like a tourniquet. I nodded and smiled sympathetically at my mother.
"Yes, mom, I'm fine." I told her. My leg was sore, especially round where the needle had gone in. I still had my hospital gown on, not daring to put jeans on or anything over the bandage.
"I hate hospitals." My mother moaned, she was sitting in a seat next to my bed, and her knee was bouncing up and down nervously.
"Yeah, well, I love hospitals." I murmured. My mother frowned and she glanced up at me.
"How long have you been sick?" My mother ask, a note of hurt in her voice. I looked down at my leg and shrugged.
"A while." I said quietly.
"Five years and you didn't... and I didn't notice." My mother whispered to herself. I was beginning to feel guilty.
"Mom, it's not your fault. I'm good at hiding it." I explained. My mother nodded and a watery smile broke over her face.
"Did your father know?" She asked, "Did you... did you tell him?" I quickly shook my head.
"I didn't tell anybody, except the doctors." I confessed, "I didn't want to worry you." My mum laughed loudly and looked down at her feet.
"You did a great job there." She spat. I furrowed my brow.
"Does dad know I'm here?" I asked. She looked back at me.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean did you call him?" I explained, "Did you tell him I was sick?" My mother pursed her lips together, obviously angry.
"That's right, blame me for you father not showing up!" She cried, "It's not my fault he doesn't care about you!" There was suddenly a knock at the door and my head sprang up, completely shocked at my mother's reaction. I allowed a smile to grow on my lips as I noticed it was House standing there, a piece of paper in his hand, the door was open and he was looking on.
"Not interrupting anything, am I?" He asked. I quickly shook my head, trying to ignore the fact that I felt as if I was about to burst into tears.
"No, not at all." I murmured. My mother leant back in her chair, embarrassed about what had happened. Then she got up and smoothed down the tight black t-shirt she was wearing.
"I'm going to go and get some... coffee..." She muttered. She walked towards the door, pushing past House and hanging her head. He raised his eyebrows and walked over to me. I just looked down at my lap, not meeting his eyes.
"I'm sorry for walking in on that charming display of affection." He murmured. I laughed, but at the same time a tear rolled down my cheek, I hastily wiped it away.
"It's not her fault." I whispered, I looked up at him, "She's going through withdrawal."
"That makes it A-Okay then!" House muttered sarcastically. He sat down on the edge of my bed, "How are you holding up?" I shrugged.
"I'm fine." I sighed, "My leg hurts a bit but... that's normal." I hoped he couldn't notice the sound of tears in my voice. I knew he could, but he chose to ignore it.
"I want to do a bronchoscopy." He told me. I bit down on my lower lip and slowly nodded.
"I hate those." I whimpered quietly.
"It'll give us a better idea of what we're looking for." He promised. I shook my head.
"No it won't." I sighed. House lifted up the piece of paper which was in his hand and offered it to me, I plucked it out of his hand and looked at it, another smile cracked on my face, "Consent form." House nodded.
"I know you don't like it but, the quicker it's done, the quicker it's over with." He said. I nodded and grinned at him.
"Got a pen?"
--
"Open wide." I obediently opened my mouth as Dr. Cameron instructed and shut my eyes. I was sitting up on a hard table in what looked like an OR. There was a viewing gallery and a large TV screen next to where I was sitting. Dr Cameron was holding a can of some sort of spray and put her finger on my chin, making sure my mouth was wide enough. She then sprayed it into the back of my throat. I winced, it was freezing.
"That will numb the back of your throat." She told me. I nodded and shut my mouth. I could feel it running down my throat and I began to gag and cough, leaning over and placing a hand over my mouth.
"That's perfectly normal." Chase told me, he was standing next to the large TV screen and I nodded, continuing to cough. I inhaled deeply and sat up straight, trying to stop coughing. I looked down at my hand and frowned. I turned it round to show Chase.
"Is that normal?" I whispered my mouth dry and my throat feeling thick. There was a small smatter of blood on the palm of my hand. Chase frowned.
"For you?" He sighed, "Yeah." Cameron had the bronchoscope in her hand. She flashed me a sympathetic smile.
"Ready?" She asked. I pursed my lips together. I couldn't feel the back of my throat or parts of my tongue, and I no longer needed to cough. I slowly nodded.
"Okay." I whimpered. I glanced over at the gallery, and saw House standing there, leaning against a wall, watching, eating what looked like a packet of peanuts. I smiled lightly at him and turned back to Cameron, nodding at her again, showing her I was ready.
She pried my mouth open again and I tried to keep it wide, as she snaked the bronchoscope over my tongue and into my trachea. I tried to keep breathing through my nose as I felt it tugging as it slid down. Chase had his eyes glued to the screen, which was showing the inside of my throat.
"Okay, you're in the trachea..." He said, watching intently. Cameron nodded and continued to lower it down my throat. I shut my eyes, which were beginning to water, I couldn't breathe.
"Hang on in there." Cameron murmured to me, I gripped the edge of the table, concentrating on breathing.
"You're now going into the left primary bronchus..." Chase announced. I was being suffocated, I couldn't breathe at all.
"Emily, it's okay, you're fine," Cameron reassured me. She turned to Chase, "See anything?"
"Go further into the lung." Chase instructed, Cameron nodded and slipped more of the bronchoscope down my throat, I whimpered, and blinked a couple of times, getting the water out of my eyes.
"Can you see anything now?" Cameron asked, "A haemorrhage?" Chase shook his head.
"Nothing, her lungs are healthy..." He said, sounding surprised.
"Maybe there's a haemorrhage in her right lung?" Cameron suggested. I tried to shake my head, but I couldn't, the tube down my throat was making it difficult to move my neck. I attempted to breathe through my mouth, but I couldn't.
"Pull it back a bit." Chase told Cameron, she did, pulling some of the tube out, but I still was struggling to breathe.
"Just a bit longer..." She said, pushing it in again. I tried not to splutter or gasp for air, it would be painful. I needed to cough.
"Okay, you're in the right lung." Chase muttered his eyes not moving. I glanced at the screen, my insides were disgusting. I attempted to say 'ew', but my mouth was full.
"Come on, there has to be something!" Cameron groaned. Chase shook his head. Suddenly I coughed, and felt myself beginning to need to gag again. Cameron's eyes widened and she turned to Chase.
"Chase, the anaesthetic is wearing off!" She cried. I was beginning to cough loudly, trying to breath, but my throat seemed to be closing over. I really couldn't breathe now. Chase swung round, taking the bronchoscope off Cameron as I gagged and tried to sit upright as I heaved and spluttered. He slowly began to withdraw the Bronchoscope.
"Come on!" He said through gritted teeth, the drugs which were numbing my throat and keeping it relaxed had worn off, now my throat was tightened round the tube, and it was making it difficult for Chase to pull it out. This went on for a few minutes, me coughing, Chase tugging at the tube, desperate to remove it from my throat, "Are you sure you put enough anaesthetic on?"
"Yes! Be careful!" Cameron hissed, worried that if they pulled it out to quickly they'd damage my trachea. I tried to concentrate on breathing, in, out, in and out, but I seemed to be suffocating. I heard the door suddenly swing open but I couldn't turn my head.
"Let go of it!" It was House, he must have realised what was happening while he was watching up in the gallery. House took over from Chase, gripping the bronchoscope.
"Emily, Emily!" He cried, trying to get my attention. I looked up at him, continuing to cough, "Calm down!" I took a deep breath, but it didn't work. I shut my eyes and concentrated on breathing, getting in air through my gagging and spluttering. After a few minutes House had somehow managed to work it out of my airways, and I was left gasping for air, hunched over on the table.
"What were you doing?!" House screamed at Chase and Cameron. They both jumped slightly, surprised at the anger in his voice. My throat was aching and felt as if razorblades had just been shoved down it, "Were you trying to kill her?"
"The anaesthetic, it wore o-" Cameron whispered but House cut her off.
"Yes, it did! Because you took too long!" House snapped, "You just had to go and check in the other lung, without reapplying the anaesthetic!" I was slightly frightened of how angry he was. I massaged my throat, trying not to cough or make a noise.
"Look, we made a mistake." Chase sighed, "we thought we'd put enough on."
"Well, you hadn't!" House hissed, he turned round and looked down at me and frowned, he lowered his voice, "Your mom's waiting for you upstairs." I nodded, but didn't smile, my hand still at my neck.
House pursed his lips together and glanced from Chase, to Cameron, to me and then turned on his heel, stalking out of the room, obviously still pissed off.
--
"I can't do it." Dr. Wilson looked up from where he was sitting at his desk in his office, to see his best friend standing at his door, a frown on his face. He raised an eyebrow. House actually looked... upset.
"Can't do what?" He asked putting some paperwork which he had been working on to one side as House limped over to a chair at the side of his room, sitting down and laying back.
"I can't figure out what's wrong with her." He murmured, more to himself than to Wilson. Wilson shrugged.
"You will, eventually." He sighed, "You always do."
"Wow!" House cried, "You're right, I do, I'll go upstairs and tell her that, and she'll be magically cured!"
"What's wrong?" Wilson groaned. House shot him a death glare.
"I just told you." He spat, "Or were you too busy fantasizing about bald cancer patients to notice?" Dr. Wilson pursed his lips together and tried to ignore the comment.
"Why do you..." Wilson took a deep breath, trying to see whether he could phrase this anyway which couldn't be taken as offensive. He shook his head, there was no way, "Why do you care?"
"Because I'm a big fuzzy ball of love today and she has the dreamiest eyes..." House sighed. He glanced at Wilson, he did not look amused. House shrugged, "I have no idea."
"What's wrong with her?" Wilson asked, realising that House was genuinely worried.
"Haemoptysis." House sighed. Wilson furrowed his brow, slightly confused.
"This might sound crazy coming from an Oncologist, but, it's lung cancer." Wilson slowly stated.
"Really? Gosh, I never thought of that, you smart, smart man!" House muttered, "Her X-ray's are clean, her CT showed... nothing, except for the fact that she's never smoked a day in her life."
"That's odd." Wilson murmured, "Why don't you just go discuss it all with your little followers?"
"I did." House groaned, "They ended up nearly killing her." Wilson raised his eyebrows and slowly nodded.
"Ah, so that's why you're here." He said in a matter-of-fact way.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you actually care about this patient." Wilson chuckled, "That's the only reason you're not sitting in your office ordering life threatening tests and treatments for her!" House shook is head.
"No. I'm here because I've ran out of life threatening tests and treatments!" House insisted. Wilson continued to laugh.
"You? Run out of ridiculous theories?" Wilson shook his head, "You care, not about the diagnosis, not about the medicine, but about the patient. You're testing her instead of treating her. You're being cautious. You don't want her to get hurt. You don't want her to die."
"I liked it better when you didn't listen." House growled, pushed himself up off the seat and hobbled out of the room, trying to ignore what Wilson said.