Chapter 30

Rolling the Dice

When she started stroking me I was confused, I had no idea how to react but her mouth on my wood sent all the confusion to the back of my brain and my primal needs took over. Damn that woman is good with her tongue and mouth. Kenna would tease me to just the brink of coming and then take me back down. She did this until it was just too much. What made it odd was that she brought me to climax with her hand. I couldn't sit up to see what she was doing but something was going on. The whole thing was bizarre. She wouldn't let me up after it was over until everything was shut down and she could make a clean getaway. I saw her with the suitcase in the parking lot but she wouldn't stop, she took off like her house was on fire. It was 4:00 a.m. Where the hell was she going? Everything was so clandestine.

I was even more concerned when she didn't turn up for work on Monday. Wilson was going crazy, saying she hadn't been home since Friday morning. She had just disappeared. I accompanied him to Cuddy's office

"Kenna has disappeared, I don't know where she's gone. Have you heard from her?" Wilson was pleading .

Cuddy gave us both looks of puzzlement, "Kenna requested the next two weeks off over a month ago. I thought you knew?"

"Two weeks?" Wilson was shocked and confused. "Did she say why?"

"She said she had some important personal business to deal with. I don't know where she's gone."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxox

I kept thinking about Greg on the plane that I had chartered to take me to my lab in Merida, Mexico. I tried to sleep a little on the plane. Ten viable eggs sat in the cryogenic canister I held in my lap. I would soon be combining each of them with Greg's sperm. It made me smile. He would have been mortified. When I got to the lab in Merida, I had my embryologist, Esteban, do a screen on House's sperm while I slept a little on the cot in the office. I got up an hour later and went in to ask him in Spanish what the verdict was.

"The sperm appears to be healthy and the motility high."

"Ok, then fertilize the eggs." I said and then sat on a stool biting my nails. He turned to me and smiled, indicating that the first one had been fertilized. I ran over to the microscope and looked in the bifocals. I started crying. There it was, after all these years, all my plans were taking fruition. Esteban was worried; he had no idea why I was crying so I had to tell him I was happy.

All of the eggs were fertilized. We froze five of them and kept the other five ready. I went to my hotel room and slept after taking an Ambien to help me nod off.

The next day I started the work with the spider silk threads we had purchased from Daytech Labs. They were beautiful and so delicate looking. It just so happens that spider silk is the strongest natural fiber on earth and excellent material for regenerating ligaments and to act as artificial nerve grafts. Although very successful in mice, it hadn't been tried in humans yet, but it was showing great promise. I knew it would be at least eight years before the FDA would approve experimental use of the artificial nerve fibers in humans and I couldn't wait that long. I treated the strands with GDNF. Then I took our pre-embrionic cells, the mating of my ova with House's sperm and used them as stem cells. I had wanted to use something as close to House's own stem cells as possible so this was perfect. Artificial nerve fibers treated in GDNF and EPO accelerate the functional recovery of the ligaments and nerves. My research assessment of the artificial nerve fibers treated in GDNF and EPO also revealed a significant increase in graft fiber density and angiogenesis into the graft. In addition, GDNF has been known to be analgesic, and nerves treated with it stimulate endomorphin production and slow endomorphin uptake. In simple terms, I was growing House a new muscle using stem cells made with our blastocytes and artificial nerve fibers. The GDNF was going to help take away his pain.

Five years ago, at a conference where I was one of the main speakers, one of the surgeons from Princeton-Plainsboro was sitting at my table during the obligatory rubber chicken dinner. I asked about Greg and he told me about the infarction, the muscle death and Greg's chronic pain. Despite the passing of the years, I couldn't stand the thought of it. I made the doctor promise to send me Greg's file and he did. Of course he wasn't supposed to, but I traded him sending the file for the promise to incorporate his patients in my next trials of a nerve conducting gene.

I saw the number of prescriptions for Vicodin that had been written in Greg's chart and knew he was addicted. I was deeply worried about him and for months I had trouble thinking about anything except how I could help him. After doing research in the area of nerve and muscle regeneration, I eventually came up with this plan, a plan that had been five years in the making. When I arrived at PPTH, I convinced James to give me Greg's current file so that I would have access to the more recent tests and mental status. I had told James that I wanted to see if there was some gene I could use to ease Greg's suffering. He fell for it. Why wouldn't he?

Every day I went into the Merida lab and laughed as I watched the cell growth. The silk and the growing tissue from the stem cells were beautiful works of art. It would take another three months before the tissue and ligaments would be ready, but I didn't need to be there to baby- sit it. After a week, I went home to Princeton and knew that I had a lot of explaining to do. I couldn't reveal too much. I had just smuggled stolen semen and experimental drugs out of the country to conduct illegal stem cell reproduction of nerve tissue and ligaments. The whole experiment was violating hundreds of medical protocols and ethics. Once discovered, it was very likely I would lose my medical license to practice in North America and Europe. But, I had planned for this. I had more than enough money to do whatever I wanted to do squirreled away in Swiss accounts. I had hardly spent any of my fortune over the years. I could live extremely comfortably anywhere in the world.

I returned back to the USA and drove home. Opening the door, James jumped up from the couch and stared at me. I could tell that he didn't know whether to scream at me or hug me, so he did both. The whole time he was hugging me he was yelling, "How could you do this to me? Just run off? What were you doing? Where did you go?"

I hugged him and then pulled back. "James, I can't give you answers to any of that right now. I'm really sorry to do this, but I'm moving out. I have a furnished apartment rented and I'm moving into it."

I could see the total devastation in his eyes. "I thought we were doing great?"

"We were, but I've been planning something for a long, long time and I can't involve you. Things are going to get very sticky from here on out and I don't want you tangled up in my web."

He was alarmed, both his hand were gripping my upper arms. "What's going on? Are you in trouble?"

"Not yet, but I could be and I need for you to let me go so that I don't take you down with me."

"But Kenna, I love you. Whatever you need, I'll do. Let me help."

"I know you love me. And I love you enough to make sure that you aren't hurt because of me. I'm sorry, but for now, you have to just trust that I know what I'm doing." I went into the bedroom and packed a suitcase full of clothing having already quietly moved my papers, books and other things to the apartment before I left for Mexico. All I had left at James's were my clothes and toiletries. As I went out the door I looked over my shoulder and told him, "If it's any consolation, I love you, in my own way. I just can't abandon this, I've been planning it for so long and every time I saw its potential I was even more determined to do it. I'm sorry, I know you deserve better, deserve answers. The truth is that I should never have moved in knowing this would be the final outcomes. Bye James." I left feeling like crap, knowing I would miss him, but I refused to cry. I don't cry over men, well, most men that is.

I spent the next two months getting ready, making sure that the university lab was functioning well and independently of me. I avoided James and Greg, working mostly away from the hospital on campus. I really didn't want to deal with my emotions just yet, the pain of leaving James would have to wait.

I installed communication equipment that would allow me to monitor and talk with the university lab in real time. The next two months I spent almost most of my time in the operating room going through protocols to expedite certain patents protocols for PPTH. I had Eric Foreman in the operating room with me the whole time. When Greg bitched about the time Eric was spending away from Diagnostics, I offered Eric a job on my staff and he jumped at it. That shut Greg up. Just before Christmas I shipped my boxes to Merida and made arrangements for them to be delivered to my house in Mexico. I paid a famous Mexican plastic surgeon $100,000 to allow me to perform surgery in his facility, which happened to be the most modern and best kept in Merida.

As I made my preparations, I didn't see much of anyone else. It was a very lonely existence, but I kept busy with my protocols. Christmas and New Years were spent in my lab getting everything in order. A few days after the New Year, just after I had jfinished surgery and was riding the elevator down to my lab; the doors opened and James stepped forward to get on. When he saw me, he stepped back and waited for the next one. Seeing him so depressed and angry hurt me terribly. I wanted to make it better, but knew I couldn't. I also knew that I was going to create hell on earth for Cuddy and so, to take the sting out of it, I signed over my patent for the carpal tunnel relief to the hospital. The papers would be delivered in February to Cuddy's house. It would mean that the hospital would receive my 40% share of the initial payment and my percentage of the residual revenue. The hospital would be sitting pretty.

I felt like a suicide victim that takes care of business, makes sure that everyone is ok, that all their affairs are in order and then kill themselves. And yet I was also happy, terribly excited. Things were in place but now came the hard part.

It was February 15th, , a dark and snowy night. I drove my car to Greg's apartment and knocked on the door. He opened the door and shook his head at me in disbelief. I was struck by just how beautiful his eyes were.

"You can't come in. If Wilson even knew I was talking to you, he'd hang me by the short and curlies. You've got to go," Greg protested.

"I can't. I'm in trouble and I need your help."

He looked at me with frustration, torn between being a good friend to James or helping the woman he used to live with. He finally opened the door. "Kenna, please, if you can find help any other way, do it."

I went straight past him and into his bedroom.

"Oh no, no, we can't do that..." he hobbled quickly into the bedroom and saw that I was packing his suitcase.

"Where's your passport?" I asked.

"What are you doing?"

I started screaming at him, "Get the friggin' passport and get ready to go. The plane leaves in an hour."

"Are you totally insane? I'm not Lassie; I don't follow you wherever you go. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll explain on the way to the airport. If you don't want to go when we get to the airport, fine, you can stay here and drive my car back to your apartment. I promise. But trust me on this one, you're going to want to go, but we have to leave now. Get your passport."

"No, I won't. You've been acting crazy. That thing with the MRI, breaking up with Wilson and now this, what's going on with you?"

"Greg this is the most important thing I have ever done in my entire life and I need you to come with me. You owe me for walking out on me 17 years ago."

"Walking out on you? You could have come with me!"

"You never once asked me."

"And you never said you wanted to go."

I was finished packing. "Come on, let's get going. Please?"

He was still hesitating.

"Greg, please, I am begging you. This is important. Trust me one more time, please?"

"Kenna, this doesn't feel right." He was saying it but he was grabbing his jacket.

"Do you need to turn anything off? You'll be gone at least a few days." I lied; he'd be gone at least two weeks.

He went into the kitchen, did something and then came out. "Ok, we can go."

"Great." We got into the car and took off for the airport. I was driving through the streets of Princeton, trying to get to Newark when I started to tell him my plan, "Five years ago I met Dr. Lamb at a conference. I asked about you and he told me about your leg and the infarction. He also told me about your chronic pain. I had him send me your file. I felt helpless, but then I realized that I was just the person to help you. I had the contacts, the money, and the ability to research and coordinate findings. So I took on several projects, each which combined will create a miracle for you.

I own part of the patent on a silk thread design for growing ligaments and artificial nerves. The silk is strong and has the least amount of immunological rejection of any external substance. We've used it in mice to build muscle by using stem cells and growing them along the artificial nerves made from the silk thread. We've also discovered that if you use EO and GDNF as a component of the process, the ligaments have greater density and function more like human ligaments. Also the GDNF acts as an analgesic and promotes the release of endomorphins so your pain and recovery are speeded up. I went down to Mexico after I left you the night of the MRI. I have a lab near Merida and I've been growing you new leg ligaments. At the very least, I'll be able to implant enough of these man-made nerve fibers that we can decrease your pain considerably.

I want to surgically remove some of the damaged nerves and implant the new ones. The ligaments won't be as strong as natural ones but it will assist you by giving you some additional muscle mass and replacing damaged nerves with healthy artificial ones." I looked over at him and he was staring at me like I had just told him I could make the dead live again.

"Kenna, have you performed this on anyone else?" he asked.

"No. But you can either trust me or live like this for the rest of your life. And from what James told me, you've come close to ending your life a few times because of the pain. What else do you need to know? I'm one of the best neurosurgeons in the world. I am the best neuroengineer. I have spent the last five years working on several projects so that they would all come together to make you—Gregory House-better."

"You've been working all those hours and around the world to do this for me? Why?"

I couldn't really answer that question, but I did tell him, "Because sixteen years ago you gave me a life. You helped me out of my cocoon. I wanted to give you back yours."

"Bull. If this procedure works, you'll make a lot of money won't you?"

I smiled, "Oh, yes. I'll be a multi-millionaire and PPTH will receive a huge revenue resource. But I'm already a multi-millionaire. Trust me; I did this all for you." I waited and let him think about it.

"Where did you get the stem cells?"

I put on the turn signal to turn into the airport. "I made them."

"How?"

"I harvested eggs from myself and used your sperm from the night in the MRI."

"You collected my sperm when I came? You fertilized your eggs with my sperm?"

"Yes. I have five very strong lines of stem cells all creating nerve fibers and ligaments along the strands of silk. I also have five frozen blastocytes in case I need them for any future surgeries."

After parking, I got out the two suitcases and started rolling them into the airport. Once we reached security, I turned to him. "Well this is where you make your first decision. Do you go or stay? When we get down to Mexico, I'll show you everything, all the data and research, and if you don't want to do it, I'll put you on the next plane back, I promise."

He shrugged and started taking off his shoes to go through security.