Chapter Two
Sorry for the wait. I am not the quickest at writing or updating but do my best. I have a smidge of medical knowledge and have researched a little on the internet, but i apologise for any glaring mistakes. This is fan fiction and considering how much artistic and dramatic licence the writers and producers of House MD got away with…lol.
Thirteen was waiting there with a gurney as Taub swung his car into the ambulance bay, slightly faster than was acceptable. It seemed that the moment House had settled in the back seat, his already troubled breathing had deteriorated further. The car had barely stopped when both he and Chase had jumped out and ran round the car to get to Houses door.
The diagnostician's pallor was now a ghastly grey and his lips a dark blue. The two men hoisted him out of the car, surprised at the loud gasp of pain as the man's right leg folded under him and he weekly pushed against Taub, on his right. Ignoring him they somehow managed to get him on the gurney and fitting the oxygen mask.
He could hear the three doctors discussing him, firing questions at each other but he could not concentrate on the words. He tried to take stock of his injuries but his thought processes where sluggish. He hurt everywhere…no that wasn't true…narrow it down…leg, always the leg…chest…head.
Suffocating, he couldn't get enough air…like in the basement…the collapse…Hannah…The secondary collapse. The slab of concrete that hit him, knocking him hard to the ground. Ribs hadn't felt broken then but… Pulmonary contusion…
He tried to pull the mask away to tell them but a well-meaning hand clamped down on his, forcing the mask on his face. Panic swelled. He fought weakly against the hand, he needed to tell them. He felt hands on him, ripping his shirt, pulling away the dressing on his neck, the small sharp sting of a cannula piecing his skin. His eyes searched for a focal point in the blurry movements around him but he couldn't see though the haze that had descended. Too fast. It was happening too fast…
Severe dyspnea, cyanosis, decreased breath sounds with crackles and wheezing. Rapid breathing and heart rate. Chase listed off the signs and symptoms as he uncovered them. He had noticed the bruising on Houses chest as Taub had driven them to the hospital.
House had ARDS. Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome. But that was just a symptom. The emerging clue on the older man's chest pointed right at the cause. House had been more severely injured than either he or Chase had first thought.
"Look at that bruise…" One of the nurses muttered as she quickly attached the much needed fluids to the patient. "That has to hurt." She was right. The large deep purple bruise had made all of them flinch when the extent of the injury was revealed.
"We need a chest x-ray now." He barked. "Blood gases too."
"Done." Said Thirteen stabbing House's wrist with an atrial needle, then holding the collected sample out to a nurse as she put pressure on the puncture wound.
"He's very hypotensive. Oxygen saturation 84% and falling, that's on 100% oxygen, Chase." Taub reported inserting yet another cannula.
"We're going to have to intubate." Chase determined as one of the nurses opened the appropriate tray. "And get him some analgesia he must be in agony."
"On it." Thirteen was there again, whipping out the morphine.
"House. Can you hear me? Open your eyes," he said, finally looking at his bosses face, momentarily startled to see House's glazed blue eyes open and fixed on him.
He had been avoiding looking at his patients face. He had worked on House before. When he was shot, the brain stimulation to name a few but underneath the familiar adrenaline spike that usually accompanied the many medical emergencies he had participated in, there was always that streak of panic and dread when he knew that patient. When he cared about that patient.
It didn't seem possible, but House seemed to have lost even more colour, and he could see the cold sweat pouring off him as he gasped under the oxygen mask he was fighting.
"House. You're in ARDS, you're not getting enough oxygen. I need to intubate." House renewed his efforts to pull the mask off, fighting Thirteen's hand.
"No House, don't fight. Just nod ok. You have a massive bruise on your chest. Stupid question I know but did you injure your chest last night?"
A nod.
"Did you fall?"
A nod and a shake. Confused Chase frowned and tried again,
"Something hit you?"
Another nod and shake. He quickly put it together.
"Both. You fell and hit something or were hit and fell."
A nod.
OK.
"Pulmonary Contusion." He diagnosed and House nodded, shooting quick relieved look shot at Chase before closing his eyes momentarily."
Pulmonary contusion, an injury to the parenchyma, the working part of the lung including the alveolar walls as well as the blood vessels and the bronchi. Caused by a blunt injury, Houses lungs were filling with fluid, blood collecting in the alveolar space causing the lungs to lose structure and function. His lungs were failing, the tiny air filled alveoli sac's responsible for absorbing oxygen, hemorrhaging. When he was hit, probably in the front, he suffered the first injury, when thrown possibly on his back, a second occurred. Like in a head injury, the contrecoup effect occurring to maximize the damage.
Chase winced at the image of house being hit by debris and falling hard on the floor, the ceiling coming down him. Had he been scared? Thought he was going to die?
No diagnostic mystery, but a contusion of this severity was most definitely a life-threatening medical emergency. And with the complication of the ARDS…
"His gases are bad, Chase. We need to get his O2 levels up." Thirteen's voice broke into his musing and he snapped back to action.
"House. I'm going to intubate you now…" Chase looked back at the older man to see that he had already surrounded to the darkness. Gulping he moved to the head of the bed, ignoring the shake in his hand as he quickly intubated his patient.
XxXxXx
"He'll turn up." Wilson was saying as he sat in the office with Cuddy. "He's a grown man and I'm not his keeper. I can't be anymore, Lisa. I have another chance with Sam and I need to take it. House is not my number one priority."
Another hour had passed fruitlessly searching for the absent diagnostician. He wasn't at any of his frequent bar haunts, his apartment or his office. His motorbike was still in Trenton. House has simply disappeared.
"I know, but he's only been clean for eleven months and you've essentially kicked him out."
"I didn't kick him out. It's my apartment and it's not like he had nowhere to go. He still had his place. I need to move on. You did with Lucas." He said defiantly, refusing to feel guilty for asking his friend to leave. And Cuddy's eyes couldn't meet his.
"I didn't." She whispered, resting her elbows on her desk she lowered her head into her hands and rubbed her eyes tiredly. But Wilson heard her anyway.
"What was that?"
"I didn't. I tried. I really tried, Lucas was offering me everything I wanted. Stability, loyalty…a father for Rachel. But I still want House."
"But...You…Your getting married." Wilson told her incredulously. "You've stayed away from him all year...You've actually been awful to him the past year, rubbing Lucas in his face now suddenly, what? You've changed your mind!" Wilson was getting wound up now. Righteous indignation filling him. "Is that why you went round to his place last night? To throw yourself at him, get him out of your system. Because we both know he won't say no to you will he?"
"No…I broke it off with Lucas. I just…needed to know if it could work."
"Oh a rebound relationship. Even better. God, Cuddy! There is no way you two could make it work on that. God." Wilson stood up violently, pacing back a few spaces before whirling back at her.
"Did you ever plan on giving the relationship a chance? You've acted like you hated him for the past few months. You've hurt him. You expect him to just forget that? And forgive? You've ignored him, humiliated him…"
"When did I…"
"You told Lucas about his break down, his hallucinations and just sat there whilst he rubbed it in his face! And those pranks your boyfriend pulled in the loft…you could have seriously hurt him."
"What pranks?"
"The flooding, the bath grab rail. House could have been seriously injured by that one. But then again I am talking to the same woman who set up a trip wire in his office."
"I had nothing to do with any of those pranks in the loft." Cuddy surged to her feet this time, unable to cope with her guilt and the accusations being leveled at her by a hypocrite. "I didn't even know they happened and don't play mister innocent with me. You've been known to sabotage his cane, and you've not been such a great friend yourself these last few months. You PAID people to babysit him! To get him out of your hair. You don't think that would have hurt or humiliate him."
Unable to answer Wilson glared over the desk at her and they stood for a charged moment absolutely furious with themselves and each other. When a knock sounded at the door. But instead of waiting for an answer, Foreman just opened the door and barged in quick paced.
"House is in the ER, ARDS caused by pulmonary contusion."
"Doesn't sound like the patient needs a diagnosis to me" Cuddy snapped. "Tell House to either find a case or report for clinic duty."
"No, you don't understand." Foreman preserved.
"Can't you see we're in the middle of something?" Wilson barked this time, but Eric had worked with House for six years, he knew how to stand his ground.
"Dr Wilson, House is the patient."
You might have guessed that I'm not a big fan of certain characters behaviours in season 6. Lol. Wow this is cathartic. House is no angel but their behavior…grrr.
won't let me but any reference direct links up. but thanks to trauma .org and British lung foundation, bmpj and wiki. for information from their webpages.
Hope to update soon