Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

Another one.

At the end of this chapter, in the Author Thoughts, there are a couple of points I would like you to take a look at (obviously after you finish reading the chapter).

Enjoy.

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House and I had to test my theory before House could brag about it to Dr. Cuddy.

"I warn you, kid, there's a lot of sexual tension between the nun and me; it might be hard for you to process," House warned me, overly serious, as we walked to the patient's room.

"I assure you, I'll be fine," I said, unamused by his jokes.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," House said, shaking his head while opening the patient's room door.

"Ah, Dr. House," inside the room, there were only two nuns: the patient, Sister Augustine, and the 'pretty nun,' who greeted us kindly as we entered.

"I told you," House murmured arrogantly, stopping at the doorframe and catching the nun's attention, who hadn't noticed me behind House.

"Augustine told me you're PJ Duncan from the newspaper. Now I can see the resemblance," the nun said, smiling in surprise as she saw me.

"Enough of that," House said, taking a few steps forward and interrupting, "I need to know what kind of tea you were drinking during the consultation when you arrived," House continued seriously, taking the nun by surprise.

"It's just figwort tea," the nun admitted quickly, looking worried.

"Perfect, can I have one of the tea bags?" House asked, smiling broadly.

Puzzled, the nun took a small tea bag from one of her habit's pockets. "Thank you," House said, taking the tea bag and walking out of the room again, seemingly without any intention of explaining anything.

"We think the tea might have had some reaction with the epinephrine that was administered to Sister Augustine. We need to investigate further, but for now, it would be prudent for the sister to stop drinking it for a while," I quickly explained to the puzzled woman before following House out.

In one of the hospital corridors, a few steps away from Sister Augustine's room, House and I met the other three doctors from the diagnostic team. "Ah, the other kids from the divorce," House said sarcastically. "How's your mother? Has she brought any man home yet?" he asked, pretending to be annoyed, making the other three doctors shake their heads, especially Dr. Foreman.

"What are you doing up here?" Chase asked.

"I have a better one: what did Cuddy order you to do?" House asked, ignoring Chase's question.

"We're going to put her on forty percent oxygen until her oxygen levels stabilize and administer a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory," Cameron quickly said before anyone else could speak.

"He's off the case; it's unethical to discuss case details," Dr. Foreman said seriously.

"Oh, relax, that's about to change," House said sarcastically to Foreman, "cancel that," he ordered Cameron, who nodded slightly. "Come on, you can accuse me to Cuddy with all of us present; I don't think that'll be a problem for you," House continued, smiling at Dr. Foreman as he walked.

Fortunately, the other three doctors followed us. Who knows what Cuddy's treatment might do to the underlying condition we now had.

When we entered Dr. Cuddy's office, she was pressing the sides of her head, reading some type of document. The small crowd caught her attention. "What's this, a boycott? I’d expect it from Cameron, but Foreman?" she asked ironically.

"Yeah, that's exactly what it is, a boycott," House said before anyone else could speak, throwing the small tea bag.

"What's this, hemlock?" Dr. Cuddy asked, ignoring House's joke.

"I'm going to do you the biggest favor one doctor can do another and I'm going to stop you from killing your patient," House explained condescendingly. "It's figwort tea, great for that little pick-me-up we're all looking for in the morning, opens the lungs, increases blood pressure, stimulates the heart," House said theatrically, as if selling a product. "Unfortunately, if you then get injected with even point one cc of epinephrine, instant cardiac arrest," House continued sinisterly, "but, what the hell? It tastes great."

Dr. Cuddy seemed about to say something, but House interrupted her, "Sister Augustine has been drinking it religiously, so to speak."

"And if you take the cardiac arrest out of the equation—" Dr. Foreman said, somewhat defeated, but House interrupted him.

"All the rest of the symptoms can be explained by a severe long-term allergic reaction," House continued, glancing at me momentarily.

"Well, that's what Cameron said in the beginning," Dr. Foreman added.

"Yes, she did, well done," House said, smiling at Cameron, who also smiled proudly. "But your unwillingness to stick by your diagnosis almost killed this woman. Take a lesson from Foreman and stand up for what you believe," House continued, wiping the smile off Cameron's face.

Dr. Cuddy, who had been silent either by choice or because of interruptions, sighed before nodding, "The case is yours again," she said, defeated.

"I know," House said arrogantly, "okay, let's go figure out how to save a nun," House continued, walking out of Dr. Cuddy's office.

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Chase said, patting Cameron's shoulder kindly as he followed House along with the other two doctors.

"PJ," Dr. Cuddy stopped me before I could follow the other doctors, "good job," she said, smiling slightly, and without intending to add more, she continued with her papers.

"Because it's been untreated for so long, it's gone from a simple 'watery eyes, scratchy throat' allergy... to a whopping 'I'm going to kick your ass' allergy, compromising her immune system, diminishing her ability to heal, and breaking down her organ systems," House said as we walked to the diagnostic lounge. "So, what's the source?" he asked.

"The dish soap," Chase offered.

"No, the symptoms continued even here in the hospital," I disagreed immediately.

"It's got to be something she's been exposed to here in the hospital as well as the monastery," House added.

"What about the tea?" Dr. Foreman asked. "It caused her arrhythmia."

"Could be, but it's not definitive," House said, undecided.

"What about where they made the tea?" I said, catching House's attention.

"Go on," the man with the cane said, pointing at me to continue.

"They got a donation of saucepans and pots. The rash on her hands started when she was washing them," I said.

"I like it," House nodded slowly. "We need to test it."

"We'll skin-test for allergens," Chase offered.

"Not yet. She's too reactive," Cameron disagreed this time. "She'll test positive to everything. We need to stabilize her, isolate her from all possible allergens, give her system a rest."

"Get her in the clean room," Chase agreed.

"Okay, and then gradually introduce allergens and see how she responds," House said. "When she reacts to something, we'll know that's what's killing her. Start with whatever they use to heat the water in the kitchen."

The three doctors nodded seriously, preparing to walk back to Sister Augustine's room.

"Chase," House calmly stopped the Australian doctor.

"Yeah?" Chase asked.

"What do you know about the nun?" House asked seriously.

Puzzled, Chase thought for a few seconds. "Her parents died when she was a child, and she's been with the church ever since," he replied, not finding any importance in his words.

"What's she lying about?" House asked.

"Why do you say that?" Chase asked, strangely offended.

"I always say that," House said, puzzled by Chase's question.

"She hasn't been in the church since her parents died, or at least there was a time when she wasn't there completely," I said, stopping House, who seemed about to say something else.

"Oh, it looks like the kid knows more about the nun than you do. Watch out, he might steal her from you; he already saved her life once," House said sarcastically, looking between Chase and me.

"She has a tattoo on her shoulder," I said, making House stop for a second, surprised, apparently recalling the same tattoo I saw when we opened her blouse to do CPR.

"A skunk," House nodded slightly, remembering.

"I didn't know that," Chase said, puzzled.

"All right, talk to the nun again, try to get her to tell you the truth, when she got that tattoo, and what else she did outside the church that wouldn't look good in God's eyes," House told Chase, who nodded seriously before walking away.

"Kid," when Chase was far enough, House said seriously, "accompany him, find out if the nun is lying and get the truth," he continued seriously before walking in the opposite direction.

And how am I supposed to do that?

I easily caught up with Chase. "You want to come?" the Australian doctor asked, puzzled.

"Yeah," I replied easily, still thinking about how to get the truth from the nun. Discovering if she was lying could be relatively easy, but getting someone to tell the truth was a completely different task.

When Chase and I reached the nun's room, Dr. Foreman and Cameron had almost everything ready to move the nun to her new room.

"Ah, Dr. Chase, PJ," Sister Augustine greeted us weakly with a smile. Her breathing was obviously affected, and her body seemed about to give up.

"Sister," Chase greeted the woman calmly, which I imitated.

After finishing the necessary preparations for the transfer, the three doctors carefully moved the sister to the clean room.

Outside the clean room, Dr. Foreman stopped me seriously, "You can't go in; you have to stay outside with the sisters," he said.

"House told me—" I was saying, but the man stopped me.

"I don't care, he's not here right now, and I don't allow it," Dr. Foreman, increasingly annoyed, immediately denied.

"I'd like PJ to be in there too; after all, he saved my life once," Sister Augustine, who was waiting with a couple of nurses to enter and carry out the cleaning procedure in the preparation area, said.

"Sister that doesn't matter, there are procedures—" Dr. Foreman, much calmer when talking to the patient, was saying.

"I know the procedures inside and out," this time I interrupted the man, confronting him directly.

"I don't care," clearly offended and annoyed by my audacity, Dr. Foreman said.

"I say if he knows the procedures, he can enter; I'll make sure he follows them correctly," Chase said calmly before Dr. Foreman could continue.

"Yeah, me too," Cameron added.

That was all I needed. Chase, Cameron and Dr. Foreman were basically at the same hierarchical level, and according to Dr. Cuddy, I only needed one responsible doctor to be present in a surgery; a clean room was basically the same.

Unable to say anything else, Dr. Foreman, shaking his head, entered the preparation room angrily.

Several minutes later, the sister was in her new bed in the clean room.

"There you go, no television, no books," Dr. Foreman, showing his professionalism in dealing with patients, said calmly to the sister.

"Not even my Bible?" the nun asked sadly.

"I'm afraid not," Dr. Foreman replied. "This room has filtered air, filtered water, you even have silk sheets—very decadent and hypoallergenic," he continued, "you should be feeling better here."

With that, Dr. Foreman, checking the room once more, silently said goodbye to the patient and walked out, accompanied by Cameron, not without giving me a hard look on his way out.

"We'll be coming in regularly to check on you," Chase said, glancing at me as if preparing to start 'interrogating' the nun.

"Can the other sister come in and pray with me?" the sister asked hopefully before Chase could say anything else.

"It'd be better if you don't have any visitors," Chase denied. "Once we isolate what's causing your allergy, then we can be a little more lax," the Australian doctor kindly added. "I can pray with you," he offered, glancing at me again with a bit of embarrassment, making the sister nod with a few tears in her eyes.

"I don't want to die," the woman said, shedding some tears and focusing entirely on Chase, seemingly forgetting I was also in the room.

"We'll do everything we can to make sure that doesn't happen, so don't think about that," Chase interrupted immediately. "But we need to talk about something else—you lied to me," Chase continued, grabbing the nun's attention.

"What?" the nun asked, confused.

"You said that after your parents' death, you lived your entire life in the church," Chase said slowly, looking at the woman seriously.

Closing her eyes for several seconds, the nun nodded. "When I was twelve, I ran away and lived on the street," the nun admitted. "For almost three years, I did many things I regret today—drugs, alcohol, and promiscuity," she continued, embarrassed.

"Is that all?" Chase, without showing contempt, asked the nun kindly.

"Yeah," after a second, the sister responded, avoiding Chase's kind gaze.

"It's okay, none of that could have lasted long enough to affect you," Chase reassured, gently taking the nun's hand, making her smile—a clear sign of relief to anyone except House or me.

The nun was lying.

Ignoring my presence in the room, Chase and the nun began to pray quietly. I could feel my hands starting to sweat as I thought of a way to get the truth; I could only think of one, but I didn't like it.

Taking a deep breath, I ignored the disgust I felt about what I was about to do. "There's something I don't understand," I interrupted the calm ritual the two were performing in front of me rudely.

Surprised for a second by recognizing my presence again, the nun smiled slightly. "I'm sorry?" she asked.

"How can someone who lost their faith in God after three years of living on the street abusing drugs, alcohol, and sex suddenly regain it?" I asked harshly, pretending to do so uninhibitedly, trying to ignore the surprise on Chase's face.

"Wha—" the sister was saying, shocked by the harshness of my words.

"Yeah, why did you decide to regain faith in God after three years of ignoring him? Did you find him again at the bottom of a bottle?" I asked again, hiding my disdain for my words. Now that I started it I couldn't stop until the woman revealed what she was hiding.

"PJ," standing up with a frown, obviously angry, Chase exclaimed, walking towards me. "Foreman was right; you can't be here," he said, trying to push me, but I managed to resist for a few more seconds.

"People usually regain their faith in God after a traumatic event; they need it. What happenedto you?" I asked, pushing back against Chase's arms, who was getting more and more annoyed.

"I don't—" the nun, now crying, was saying.

"What did you do, steal? Kill someone?" I asked insistently, seeking a reaction from the nun, getting one with the second question—I didn't expect that to be the correct one.

"That's enough," taken by surprise by the nun's reaction, Chase was able to push me all the way against the room's glass, "What's wrong with you?" pressing me against the large window, the usually friendly doctor asked me furiously, but I couldn't take my eyes off the nun, who I had apparently finally broken. Meanwhile, Cameron and Dr. Foreman, who were outside witnessing what was happening inside, were quickly preparing to enter.

"When I was fifteen," with her eyes closed, still crying, the nun suddenly said, catching Chase's attention, "I was on every kind of birth control known to man, and I still got pregnant," the nun continued, and I could feel the pressure on my chest from Chase's arm release. "I had an abortion and I blamed God, I hated him for ruining my life," the sister admitted, "But then I realized something. You can't be angry with God and not believe in him at the same time," she continued, "and that's why I returned to the church," she finished, smiling weakly.

After what seemed like a long, awkward silence, as I absorbed the nun's words and at the same time relived my own words.

"I'm very sorry for my words, sister," I finally said moving out of Chase's reach without being able to look the woman in the face, embarrassed, quickly walking out of the room with Chase behind me.

I walked quickly to the diagnostic lounge, feeling disgusted by how I had obtained the woman's information.

"What happened in there?" Cameron, who had interrupted her preparation to re-enter the clean room, asked worriedly when she caught up with me in one of the hallways.

"You're supposed to only learn medicine from House, not to be House," quite angry, grabbing my shoulder to stop me, Chase, who had run part of the way, exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't think of another way to do it. If I hadn't done it this way, there was a chance she would never have said it out of shame," I admitted.

"That's no excuse—" Chase was saying, but from the hallway, a voice interrupted him.

"Sounds like the kid got what he wanted, what we needed," House arrived calmly, "Who cares about the method he used," he continued, "as long as it wasn't torture," he sarcastically added, looking at me with fake concern.

"Of course, you would say something like that," Dr. Foreman, who until then had said nothing, simply observing with a small smile, said with contempt.

"What did you find, kid?" ignoring Dr. Foreman, House, smiling strangely proudly, asked.

"It doesn't matter that she's in a clean room," I said, surprising the three doctors under House's command, "she's always been exposed to her allergen," I continued. "When she was fifteen, she was on every kind of birth control known to man—"

"And so what?" Chase interrupted me.

"In the eighties, a form of birth control was pulled off the market, an IUD, the copper cross," I said, making House's strange smile widen.

"She's always had the symptoms, but the truly severe ones started when she was washing the donated saucepans and pots at her church," I said.

"Copper allergy, rare but possible", House said, nodding.

"Wouldn't she know she had an IUD?" Chase, still frowning, asked.

"She had an abortion; the IUD must have been left in by accident," I responded.

"Order a full body scan," House ordered.

"What if she refuses? I don't think she'll want anything to do with us after we allowed what he did," Dr. Foreman arrogantly asked, pointing at me.

"Tell her I'm looking for a miracle," House said sarcastically, making the other three doctors leave, with Chase and Dr. Foreman still glaring at me.

"Merry Christmas, PJ," Cameron said before leaving with her colleagues.

"Great job, I couldn't have done it better," House said, strangely proud.

"I care about the method we use to help people," ignoring House's words, upset about the whole situation, I practically screamed, "it doesn't feel right to attack someone's feelings to get the truth."

House remained silent for several seconds. "At some point, you'll learn that 'ethics' and 'moral' are sometimes an obstacle to truly helping someone, to diagnose" House said seriously. "You have to make a decision: a doctor who saves lives by breaking some rules or one who loses some lives by following the rules to the letter."

Leaving me alone in the hallway, House walked away, limping with his cane, following where the other three doctors had gone earlier.

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Author Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

A few things:

1. As some of you may have noticed, I changed a few aspects of this House case's development, skipping some parts, such as House's visit to the monastery or Dr. Cuddy's failed treatment. I believe I managed to resolve it satisfactorily, but I would love to hear your opinion.

2. Also I had this issue of PJ with the dichotomy of Machiavellian thinking—doing whatever it takes to diagnose a patient—planned almost from the beginning of the novel. House obviously has no problem with the 'end justifies the means' mentality, and it's something I want to explore in more depth with my character. How far is it 'right' to cross that line? And how to apply it to the novel? I'm also eager to read your opinion.

With that said,

I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

Thank you for reading! :D

PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.