Cure- House, MD

chapter 5: not for pain

tw-
drug use, trauma

I walk into the small, elegant restaurant along the sidewalk of downtown Princeton. I wanted to dress nice to impress the people I'll now be working with, but the freezing weather this time of year made it difficult to not dress like a Mormon. I'm wearing a more form-fitting dress than I normally would at work, but I have a long, brown trench-coat that covers the curves showing through the dress.

I often forget what the warm sun felt like on my face. In Orlando, the average summer was about one hundred degrees and counting and the humidity made you feel like you were in a greased up Easy Bake oven.

I see everyone sitting at a small, round table in the corner. Cameron, Chase, and Foreman are all eagerly talking to each other. Their voices are low, but you can tell that all three of them are intrigued in the conversation they're having.

"Hey, guys." I smile, sitting next to Foreman as I put my purse down.

They all greet me excitedly.

"I've never been to this part of Princeton. You know... it's nice. Downtown Orlando was typically a place you went to only if you made a wrong turn." I laugh softly, adjusting myself in my seat.

"They try to keep it nice, gentrifying all of the lots and whatnot." Foreman says, shrugging.

The waitress comes up to us and takes our order.

I order a grilled chicken and wine. I'm a pretty picky eater, but I managed to divert from the usual chicken tenders or sandwiches tonight.

About fifteen minutes later, she brings out all of our food.

I take a sip of my wine as I listen in to their conversations about their current case that is puzzling them.

"It's a twenty-four-year-old woman. I mean, come on, do you really think she has young-onset Parkinson's?" Chase asks, raising an eyebrow at Foreman.

"She literally has every symptom and test result except the age." Foreman replies, slightly agitated at Chase's jab.

"Have you tested for Huntington's?" Cameron asks Foreman.

Foreman is a neurologist, like me. So, I understand his frustration with other doctors doubting his expertise in his specialty.

But, I agree with Chase. It's highly unlikely that a twenty-four-year-old woman has Parkinson's. It's almost... unheard of. There would have to be another correlating cause for such a quick degeneration of her nerve cells.

"If it was Huntington's, that would've been revealed in the gene test." A voice says behind us.

I roll my eyes.

He said he wouldn't show, but here he is.

We all turn to see House walking up to the table and casually sitting down.

"Oh, did I interrupt?" He asks. "Sorry I'm late... busy with... walking my goldfish. Or something. I'll come up with a better excuse later." He shrugs, looking around.

"Come on, do any of you seriously think it's a neurological degeneration disease?" He sighs, putting his elbows on the white tablecloth.

I notice his eyes glance over at me. I could swear that he looked me up and down for a moment, but it was so subtle that I question it.

"All of the tests point to it. All of the scans." Foreman throws his hands up in frustration.

"Guys, do we seriously have to talk about work right now? I mean, this is one of the moments that we are not forced to talk about these topics together." Cameron interrupts, trying to mediate the discussion.