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Post by Anne Page on Apr 11, 2009 13:59:45 GMT -7
She didn't want to be here. But she had to be. All she had to do was get some sleeping pills, and figure out how to drop all the weight she'd gained. How she'd even managed to gain the weight, she didn't know. She just wanted it gone.
And she wanted to sleep. Sleep would be good.
Come on, Anne...just go in there, get yourself some damn sleeping pills, and go home.
Anne steeled herself, hand on the door of the clinic, and pulled the door open. Ugh. Sick people. Lots of them. She only hoped she wouldn't catch something. She hated being sick. Sitting down in a chair by the door, as far away from a sniffling old woman as she could get, she glanced around.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Apr 11, 2009 14:46:48 GMT -7
House took one look and nodded, "yeah, you've got a problem with your... "crotch rocket," Mr. Jonas. You broke it."
"There's a bone in there?" The senior citizen asked with slight horror in his voice, and maybe a little bit of awe.
House refrained from rolling his eyes. "No, but you have a corpora cavernosa, which has a tear in it. Which you typically get when someone rides on top of you really hard. I guess you're a bottom man."
"No way. I do the ladies, and I do them on top. I guess it must have happened when I pulled out of Ms. Anderson. We did it on a desk during movie night; we managed to sneak out when the lights were dark. I hit my general against the desk when I slipped out from her."
House pulled off his gloves, "well, however you did it, you gotta have surgery to repair it."
"Oh. Surgery... how long am I going to be out of the game?"
"At least a month."
"Aw, what am I going to tell all the girls?"
House's eyebrows shot up, as he grasped his cane, "you could always practice your tongue skills, playah." He opened the door, grappling with the clipboard and his cane at once, and smoothly exited. As the door swung shut behind him, he made his way to the nurses' desk. "Admit him for surgery," he muttered, "Casanova broke his dippy stick. And with that oh, so stellar note, I'm signing out of clinic duty, and you can't stop me.
"See, it's in ink. Dr. Gregory House, signing out at five o'clock."
"It's ten to," the nurse pointed. House obliged her by craning his head to look himself.
He turned back, "your clock is slow. Good bye."
He deposited the clipboard in the admit box and started his escape toward the door. Sweet victory was within his grasp.
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Post by Dr. Lisa Cuddy on Apr 11, 2009 15:16:43 GMT -7
Walking back toward the clinic, Cuddy mentally cursed whoever had invented the consult. Why her highly trained and specialized doctors needed her to help them out when they had other doctors who were closer, she had no idea. But she supposed she shouldn't complain too much. At least it was over now.
She opened the door to the clinic in time to see House start making his way out. She raised an eyebrow at him and stood so that she was blocking both doors. Cuddy stared pointedly at the clock on the wall.
"Where do you think you're going? You promised a full hour of clinic duty if I didn't bother you during your soap. You have ten minutes left. It's not that much longer." She was quickly running out of ways to negotiate with him.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Apr 11, 2009 15:26:51 GMT -7
"But mooooooom," House protested, his eyes so woefully beguiling. "I need those ten minutes to get my popcorn and my soft drink. I am a cripple here. It'll take me that long just to get to my office, let alone the surgeon's break room. I don't want to miss Victor confessing to his lover that he's pregnant with his father's baby. What a marvel of a medical feat."
House attempted to plan a quick walk around Cuddy by employing the "look over there, a man with loads of money that he wants to invest in the hospital" tactic. He palmed his cane, making sure it was prime for his getaway. He let his eyes slip past Cuddy, and he let out a short gasp, pointing and letting a note of horror creep into his voice, "look, it's Vogler!"
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Post by Anne Page on Apr 11, 2009 15:32:19 GMT -7
Anne glanced up when a door opened. Which meant that someone was done, and someone else was going in. A nurse came over and handed her a folder. Which she was apparently supposed to fill out. Oh well. The doctors wouldn't know what to do if she didn't give them information, right? Sighing, she took the folder and the offered pen and started filling in the blanks.
Name: Anne Page....Age: 25....Gender: F...
She glanced up when she heard another door open and she stared at the guy as he walked over to the nurse's counter. She was wondering if people usually did that in this clinic when he started speaking. Oh. They actually let doctors work like that around here? Rolling her eyes, she went back to the long, boring forms. Then another doctor came in, and Anne let out a sigh of relief upon seeing her. At least she actually looked like a doctor.
Although, from the way the woman talked, it sounded like the man didn't really want to be there. Well, she could certainly relate. She yawned as she went to another page of the form.
Have you experienced any of these symptoms in the past seven (7) days? Aches...Dizziness...Loss of appetite...insomnia... Check that last one.
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Post by Dr. Lisa Cuddy on Apr 11, 2009 16:00:21 GMT -7
Okay then. "I'm not sure I really want to know what daytime dramas you're watching now." She sighed, rolling her eyes. Medical feat. Right. Soap opera writers didn't care if their plots could work in real life. All they cared about was drama. Even if it was so completely convoluted that no one would ever believe it. And after the time House had kidnapped a soap star, she couldn't be too certain what he did or didn't believe about those shows. 'At least it's not The L Word' she thought.
"Like I'm really going to buy that, House. Even if Vogler did come back, I'd turn away his hundred million again. I'm not putting the hospital through that again." He couldn't honestly have thought that could work, could he? "It's ten minutes House! Your Tivo is probably recording the episode right now. And even if it isn't, it's a soap opera. You can figure out a ten year plot by watching five minutes." Or so she'd heard. Cuddy had never watched a soap opera episode beginning to end, so she couldn't be entirely certain of the truth of her statement.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Apr 12, 2009 20:52:37 GMT -7
House sighed, gustily. This was kinda fun. He really liked watching Cuddy get that little frown between her eyebrows, and her lips pursing up like that. She was kind of hot when she was ticked. He took a step back, looking around the room full of sick people.
"Hi! I'm Doctor House. I am a doctor, though you wouldn't know it looking at me. I am not a nice guy, I will not hold your hand and say that it'll all be okay. I will read your chart, take one look at you and call you a moron. I will fix your act of stupidity, but I'm afraid that your stupidity is forever. There is no cure. I will mock you incessantly, break your spirit and drive shame right into your soul.
"Any questions?" House didn't bother to smile sweetly, since he could never carry that off. He did smirk at Cuddy though, waggling his eyebrows.
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Post by Anne Page on Apr 12, 2009 21:23:03 GMT -7
Almost done, she thought, slouching in her chair and trying to ignore the two arguing doctors who were currently beginning to give her a headache. She set the folder aside with the pen so she could massage her temples. Beat it before it started. She yawned as House started his little rant. Closing her eyes against the suddenly too-bright lights of the clinic, she slumped forward, fingers still pressing against her temples.
Her elbows rested on her knees as she took a deep breath. Lifting her head, she opened her eyes.
"Anyone got a--" she started. But before she could finish the question, an elbow slipped from its supporting position, knocking into the edge of the seat next to her. She winced slightly, and moved to cradle the area.
And promptly slipped sideways off the chair onto the floor. Anne heard a crack as she landed wrong. Intense pain shot up her arm. Anne bit back a scream, closing her eyes tightly against the pain, her senses reeling. A wave of nausea washed over her, and then nothing.
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Post by Dr. Lisa Cuddy on Apr 12, 2009 21:39:08 GMT -7
Cuddy rolled her eyes as House turned and addressed the clinic. No matter how often he tried to scare the patients into wanting another doctor, Cuddy wouldn't let House out of clinic duty. Surely he'd figured that out by now? She narrowed her eyes slightly when she heard the half-question. Her eyes widened as she watched events unfold in rapid succession.
"Oh my God," she gasped, moving quickly to kneel down next to the fallen woman. Cuddy rolled her over and looked at her arms. Nothing seemed immediately wrong, so Cuddy assumed that she'd just fallen on it wrong. She took out her penlight and checked the woman's eyes. "She's blacked out," she muttered. If it was just a blackout, all they had to do was get her to come to. If it was something else... She really didn't want it to be anything else. Because then she, and most likely House, would be here all night.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Apr 13, 2009 6:14:01 GMT -7
House wasn't expecting anyone to actually ask him a question after he was done with his rant, so when the chubby girl started to ask one, his attention was diverted to her. He noted the dark shadows under her eyes just as she inexplicably lost her balance while she was just sitting there. As Cuddy knelt down to check on the patient, House made a beeline for the chart.
"Hm, her reason for being here is insomnia. Well, I suppose she's fixed now, given that she probably gave in to her exhaustion. Stick her in a bed and let her sleep for a night, then roll her out in the morning." House was bored already. "Oh, look at that, it's five now! See you later, Cuddy."
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Post by Dr. Lisa Cuddy on Apr 13, 2009 13:51:31 GMT -7
"House!" Cuddy called sharply. "She's not asleep. She's blacked out. As in nonresponsive." She stood, staring hard at House. She took the couple steps to stand right next to him. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again in a low voice.
"House...I don't think this is just 'giving into her exhaustion'." Cuddy sighed. "I know you want to go home and relax. I do, too. But this doesn't look like someone just...falling asleep." She chewed her lip.
"Her wrist is injured," the nurse said from behind them. Cuddy turned to see Nurse Archer kneeling next to the patient. The wrist she'd landed certainly was beginning to look a bit swollen.
"Broken?" Cuddy asked. Nurse Archer handled the wrist for a moment before confirming. "Must have fallen pretty hard, then. Or it was the angle that did it." She turned back to House. "Admit her," she said, directing the command to Nurse Archer, even though her eyes were on House. Waiting.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Apr 13, 2009 21:26:14 GMT -7
House hesitated. Looked longingly at the doors leading out of the hospital before looking at the patient critically. He shifted his cane to his left, before plunging his hand into his blazer pocket to pull out his bottle of vicodin. He shook it, then opened the lid, pursing his lips. He looked at the young woman, so out that the pain in her wrist wasn't waking her up.
He looked at Cuddy. "I take this patient, no clinic duty for the next two weeks."
He shook out a vicodin, contemplating it for a moment. His blue eyes looked at Cuddy under his eyebrows, calculating. Testing the limits.
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Post by Dr. Lisa Cuddy on Apr 13, 2009 23:50:12 GMT -7
Cuddy blinked a couple times, slowly, contemplating House's offer. One patient. Two weeks free. Hm. A thoughtful expression crossed her face as she turned back to Nurse Archer. One patient versus two weeks off clinic duty. She looked back at House, contemplative smirk still in place.
"Deal." Too tired to argue, out of negotiations (at least ones she could make in public), the easiest way for her to get out and go home was to agree to his request. In a lower tone, so no one else could hear, she added: "Don't take too long, though. You still have one promise to keep." Of course, if House decided to either pretend to forget, or actually forget, her birthday, she would put him back on clinic duty for those two weeks.
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Post by Dr. Gregory House on Apr 14, 2009 18:54:13 GMT -7
House celebrated his closing of the deal by popping the vicodin down his mouth. He smirked. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Cuddy." He banged his cane against the stretcher into which the orderlies were depositing the newly christened House's patient. "Put her in the room farthest from the elevators. I like to walk."
He turned back to Cuddy, surprise colouring his face, "I object, madam! I make no promises! Except for the one where I promised to lie, cheat and steal, but that's it!" Stepping closer to Cuddy, he quirked his eyebrow, "you actually want me there on your birthday?" he asked in a lower tone that still managed to convey his incredulity. "It's your birthday, I would think you would just want to soak in a hot bubble bath with a good "bodice ripper" and some classical music or something."
House still wasn't sure about his promise that he apparently made to Cuddy. When had that happened? He worked his lips, frowning in thought, trying to think back to when he uttered any words that sounded like promise, but he couldn't think of anything. "Any promises I make sure the commission of sex can't be held against me in your court of law, Cuddy."
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Post by Dr. Lisa Cuddy on Apr 14, 2009 19:46:59 GMT -7
Cuddy sighed. How could he think otherwise? "Of course I want you there," she hissed, trying not to draw the attention of the other clinic patients. "Yes, it's my birthday, and you're my boyfriend. Why wouldn't I want you there?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn't really a surprise that House had seemingly forgotten his promise to her; he hadn't actually used the words 'I promise'. But that was beside the point.
"You didn't promise anything during sex," she muttered. "You promised me three days ago...You remember three days ago when you stole my ice cream?" she checked. "You said you'd come by again 'in a few days.'" She bit her lip. "I even thought I'd make your favorite for dinner." She glanced up at him, meeting his eyes.
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[My5:]