Please comment as always.
“Oh nice,” someone shouted from far away, “You yell at everyone else to do clinic duty, but here you are sleeping through yours in fricken exam room 1. For God’s sake woman wake up!”
Something small and pen shaped ricocheted off her head startling her awake. Cuddy shot up and looked around wildly. A strange, intolerable feeling of agitation overtook her consciousness interfering with all rational thought. Someone was after her, she knew it.
“Cuddy,” Sarah said questioningly.
Her voice was distorted, like someone had put a recording in slow motion. Cuddy did not recognize who was speaking, the agitation became overwhelming, clouding out everything except the urge to run, run as fast as she could far away. Except her vision was blurred and strangely colorful. She couldn’t see anything clearly. Bursts of bright neon as cores flashed across her visual field, swirling and expanding. The as cores blended together and replayed all of the memories she had been trying to repress at the same time over and over again. She could hear her own distorted screams ringing in her ears followed por Tritters threats. She could hear the judge sentencing her to two weeks of jail time and feel the cuffs being forced on her wrists. It was an endless loop of torment. Sarah watched as Cuddy slowly sank to her knees on the floor her hands covering her ears, her expression one of fear and pain.
“What’s wrong, Cuddy,” Sarah asked worriedly.
For a segundo there was deafening quiet like the eye of a storm. All of the sudden an ear-piercing scream echoed against the walls and Cuddy was flailing against an imaginary assailant. At once Sarah ran to the drawer that contained medication and withdrew a syringe of Valium.
“Differential diagnosis for hallucinations, visual, and auditory,” House said, composição literária as he spoke, “Go.”
“Uh, don’t we need mais information,” Foreman said, “Like say, a chart?”
“Patient is…black ops. Her name can not be disclosed. Patient is an 18 ano old female of Jewish and Middle-Eastern decent.”
“This isn’t another one of those mob cases you snuck in past Cuddy, is it,” Cameron asked.
“Didn’t require much sneaking due to Cuddys’ impromptu family emergency.”
“What happened?”
“Her aunt had a coração attack.”
“What’s the patients’ medical history?”
“Unknown, though she had several nosebleeds during the last four years.”
“LSD.”
“Schizophrenia,” Cameron suggested.
“Encephalitis,” Chase added.
“Great. Now all of you go to the clinic until further notice.”
“Don’t you want us to run the tests,” Foreman asked.
“If I did, there’s a good chance I would’ve said that. Now go. Don’t come back until I tell you to.”
After exchanging several furtive glances of confusion the team stood up hesitantly and made their way to the clinic wondering what was so special about this patient that would prompt House to take over her care. There was only one patient in the world whom House would voluntarily take car of: Lisa Cuddy. House was well aware of this, but what he was trying to ignore was the reason why. The reasoning he deluded himself into believing was that this would be the perfect chance to solve the puzzle of Lisa Cuddy. With enough prodding, he felt all of the pieces would fall into place. He pushed open the door to Cuddys’ room and sat down beside the bed. She was sitting there cross-legged on the cama looking down at a file in her lap.
“You can’t be doing paperwork,” House scolded, taking the file, “You’re in Pennsylvania dealing with your aunt Edna’s myocardial infarction.”
“That’s my cover-story I take it,” she replied without looking at him.
“I told them you’d be returning within the seguinte few days. I made sure to leave it pretty open ended.”
“Thank you.”
“I also admitted you under a false name and told the staff you were agoraphobic so only Sarah and I can come in.”
“Thank you.”
A tense silence fell between them. Ever since the night Cuddy had a concussion and had admitted her helplessness she had been even mais guarded around everyone, especially him.
“I need your medical history.”
Cuddy pursed her lips, appearing to be weighing the value of her life against the value of maintaining her secrecy. It was taking way too long for her to decide for House’s liking. What would someone like her have to hide?
“This stays between you and I, it doesn’t leave this room, it doesn’t go on my record. As far as anyone else is concerned my records are clean.”
“Up until a few segundos atrás I thought your records were pristine.”
“Nope.”
“Oh nice,” someone shouted from far away, “You yell at everyone else to do clinic duty, but here you are sleeping through yours in fricken exam room 1. For God’s sake woman wake up!”
Something small and pen shaped ricocheted off her head startling her awake. Cuddy shot up and looked around wildly. A strange, intolerable feeling of agitation overtook her consciousness interfering with all rational thought. Someone was after her, she knew it.
“Cuddy,” Sarah said questioningly.
Her voice was distorted, like someone had put a recording in slow motion. Cuddy did not recognize who was speaking, the agitation became overwhelming, clouding out everything except the urge to run, run as fast as she could far away. Except her vision was blurred and strangely colorful. She couldn’t see anything clearly. Bursts of bright neon as cores flashed across her visual field, swirling and expanding. The as cores blended together and replayed all of the memories she had been trying to repress at the same time over and over again. She could hear her own distorted screams ringing in her ears followed por Tritters threats. She could hear the judge sentencing her to two weeks of jail time and feel the cuffs being forced on her wrists. It was an endless loop of torment. Sarah watched as Cuddy slowly sank to her knees on the floor her hands covering her ears, her expression one of fear and pain.
“What’s wrong, Cuddy,” Sarah asked worriedly.
For a segundo there was deafening quiet like the eye of a storm. All of the sudden an ear-piercing scream echoed against the walls and Cuddy was flailing against an imaginary assailant. At once Sarah ran to the drawer that contained medication and withdrew a syringe of Valium.
“Differential diagnosis for hallucinations, visual, and auditory,” House said, composição literária as he spoke, “Go.”
“Uh, don’t we need mais information,” Foreman said, “Like say, a chart?”
“Patient is…black ops. Her name can not be disclosed. Patient is an 18 ano old female of Jewish and Middle-Eastern decent.”
“This isn’t another one of those mob cases you snuck in past Cuddy, is it,” Cameron asked.
“Didn’t require much sneaking due to Cuddys’ impromptu family emergency.”
“What happened?”
“Her aunt had a coração attack.”
“What’s the patients’ medical history?”
“Unknown, though she had several nosebleeds during the last four years.”
“LSD.”
“Schizophrenia,” Cameron suggested.
“Encephalitis,” Chase added.
“Great. Now all of you go to the clinic until further notice.”
“Don’t you want us to run the tests,” Foreman asked.
“If I did, there’s a good chance I would’ve said that. Now go. Don’t come back until I tell you to.”
After exchanging several furtive glances of confusion the team stood up hesitantly and made their way to the clinic wondering what was so special about this patient that would prompt House to take over her care. There was only one patient in the world whom House would voluntarily take car of: Lisa Cuddy. House was well aware of this, but what he was trying to ignore was the reason why. The reasoning he deluded himself into believing was that this would be the perfect chance to solve the puzzle of Lisa Cuddy. With enough prodding, he felt all of the pieces would fall into place. He pushed open the door to Cuddys’ room and sat down beside the bed. She was sitting there cross-legged on the cama looking down at a file in her lap.
“You can’t be doing paperwork,” House scolded, taking the file, “You’re in Pennsylvania dealing with your aunt Edna’s myocardial infarction.”
“That’s my cover-story I take it,” she replied without looking at him.
“I told them you’d be returning within the seguinte few days. I made sure to leave it pretty open ended.”
“Thank you.”
“I also admitted you under a false name and told the staff you were agoraphobic so only Sarah and I can come in.”
“Thank you.”
A tense silence fell between them. Ever since the night Cuddy had a concussion and had admitted her helplessness she had been even mais guarded around everyone, especially him.
“I need your medical history.”
Cuddy pursed her lips, appearing to be weighing the value of her life against the value of maintaining her secrecy. It was taking way too long for her to decide for House’s liking. What would someone like her have to hide?
“This stays between you and I, it doesn’t leave this room, it doesn’t go on my record. As far as anyone else is concerned my records are clean.”
“Up until a few segundos atrás I thought your records were pristine.”
“Nope.”
