Catch Up Topic -- Mysterious.
Have you ever experienced something you couldn't explain? Write down your brushes with the mysterious
It was the nurse's fault. She wouldn't listen to me.
[Cut to House, reading the printouts from the EKG machine.]
House: Nurse, Nurse? I need more calcium gluconate.
Nurse: You just had 5 mLs.
House: Either your ass is getting whiter or my potassium is rising.
Nurse: I’ll talk to your doctor.
House: Well, you better make it fast, ‘cause I’m about to go into cardiac arrest. You give me the dose, or I go into white count complex tachycardia.
Nurse: I could get in trouble -
House: Listen, it’s not a narcotic! I’m not looking for a buzz. You’ve got about twenty seconds. [His breathing quickens, and the monitors all go off.] I was wrong. [Nurses and doctors enter, including Cuddy.]
Someone: What have you got?
Nurse: White complex tachycardia.
Cuddy: Who diagnosed -
Nurse: He did.
Cuddy: Paddles! Charge.
Nurse: Clear! [They shock him, and he flatlines.]
I owe science and medicine for both taking away my life and for giving it back. It's an interesting thing, to be able to place the blame and the anger, the hurt, the disgust on the one single thing that eventually gave you back your life.
I was technically dead for over a minute. For one minute and twenty-three seconds, on a day in late September almost ten years ago, my heart had ceased to fuction and I was, as medical technology proclaims, dead. Not V-fib, not wavering on the edge of life, clinging to it like a small child clings to its mother when he's scared of the strangers around him. I was dead. Flatlined. They were attempting to shock me back.
It was the fault of science and medicine that I'd landed in that bed in the first place, when they misdiagnosed the infarction in my leg that left me crippled, it was the fault of science and medicine that they hadn't noticed that my readings were in the tank that night. It was because of science and medicine, that on that night, I died.
But science and medicine can't explain what happened to me in that minute and twenty-three seconds, and I doubt that it ever will.
House: The patient was technically dead for over a minute.
Wilson: [standing in the back] Do you think he was dead? Do you think those experiences were real?
House: Define real. They were real experiences. What they meant... Personally, I choose to believe that the white light people sometimes see visions, this patient saw. They’re all just chemical reactions that take place when the brain shuts down.
Foreman: You choose to believe that?
House: There’s no conclusive science. My choice has no practical relevance to my life, I choose the outcome I find more comforting.
Cameron: You find it more comforting to believe that this is it?
House: I find it more comforting to believe that this simply isn’t a test.
I'm not a religious person. I don't claim to believe in an afterlife, a higher power that knows all and has a master plan that we're all going to follow, no matter what. I don't like the idea that what we do in our life is a test, some way of sorting us into classes for the 'rest of eternity'. I admit that I've done some bad things in my life, more than a good amount of people. I've watched people die. I've killed people, unintentionally and intentionally, for the sake of the greater good. I'm not proud of that fact, but it's the truth.
A nun once told me that I couldn't be angry at God and not believe in him at the same time. But I'm not angry at God. I don't think that some large, all knowning, all powerful guy, had it written in his plans that I would be a cripple for the rest of my life. I don't think that he had it planned for my girlfriend at the time to betray me. I don't think he planned for me to almost die. And if he did, then he's a fucking sadist, and he can quite frankly, fuck off and go to hell.
I don't blame God. I blame science. I blame medicine. I blame the idiots who thought I was only an addict looking for a score. I even blame myself sometimes, though I've stopped doing that more recently.
But science and medicine can't explain what happened to me. It was a minute, where I was dead, yet, I wasn't. My brain was still working, I suppose. I don't remember much of what I saw, save the fact that it was deathly quiet. Everything was still. I know that I wasn't hurting, because I could walk normally, and I did. I saw bits and pieces of my past flash in front of my eyes. It was like I was watching clips of a movie, they were a bit hazy, but I knew what they were. I felt like I was underwater, or in a haze. I don't remember having to breathe. I had, in that brief moment of time where I was dead, what I would honestly classify as a 'white-light' experience.
Science and medicine can't explain that. I can't explain that. I don't like the fact that I can't explain it either, because that's not who I am. I'm a doctor. I explain and fix things. It's what I do. But I can't explain that. And honestly? I don't want to try. Because this isn't just some test, and what happens, happens, and that's it.
Dr. Greg House
House
Word Count : 642 [Not counting text from episode 1x21, "Three Stories"]
[OOC Note: Anything in small italics isn't visible to muses, everything else is. Comments/RP welcome.]
It was the nurse's fault. She wouldn't listen to me.
[Cut to House, reading the printouts from the EKG machine.]
House: Nurse, Nurse? I need more calcium gluconate.
Nurse: You just had 5 mLs.
House: Either your ass is getting whiter or my potassium is rising.
Nurse: I’ll talk to your doctor.
House: Well, you better make it fast, ‘cause I’m about to go into cardiac arrest. You give me the dose, or I go into white count complex tachycardia.
Nurse: I could get in trouble -
House: Listen, it’s not a narcotic! I’m not looking for a buzz. You’ve got about twenty seconds. [His breathing quickens, and the monitors all go off.] I was wrong. [Nurses and doctors enter, including Cuddy.]
Someone: What have you got?
Nurse: White complex tachycardia.
Cuddy: Who diagnosed -
Nurse: He did.
Cuddy: Paddles! Charge.
Nurse: Clear! [They shock him, and he flatlines.]
I owe science and medicine for both taking away my life and for giving it back. It's an interesting thing, to be able to place the blame and the anger, the hurt, the disgust on the one single thing that eventually gave you back your life.
I was technically dead for over a minute. For one minute and twenty-three seconds, on a day in late September almost ten years ago, my heart had ceased to fuction and I was, as medical technology proclaims, dead. Not V-fib, not wavering on the edge of life, clinging to it like a small child clings to its mother when he's scared of the strangers around him. I was dead. Flatlined. They were attempting to shock me back.
It was the fault of science and medicine that I'd landed in that bed in the first place, when they misdiagnosed the infarction in my leg that left me crippled, it was the fault of science and medicine that they hadn't noticed that my readings were in the tank that night. It was because of science and medicine, that on that night, I died.
But science and medicine can't explain what happened to me in that minute and twenty-three seconds, and I doubt that it ever will.
House: The patient was technically dead for over a minute.
Wilson: [standing in the back] Do you think he was dead? Do you think those experiences were real?
House: Define real. They were real experiences. What they meant... Personally, I choose to believe that the white light people sometimes see visions, this patient saw. They’re all just chemical reactions that take place when the brain shuts down.
Foreman: You choose to believe that?
House: There’s no conclusive science. My choice has no practical relevance to my life, I choose the outcome I find more comforting.
Cameron: You find it more comforting to believe that this is it?
House: I find it more comforting to believe that this simply isn’t a test.
I'm not a religious person. I don't claim to believe in an afterlife, a higher power that knows all and has a master plan that we're all going to follow, no matter what. I don't like the idea that what we do in our life is a test, some way of sorting us into classes for the 'rest of eternity'. I admit that I've done some bad things in my life, more than a good amount of people. I've watched people die. I've killed people, unintentionally and intentionally, for the sake of the greater good. I'm not proud of that fact, but it's the truth.
A nun once told me that I couldn't be angry at God and not believe in him at the same time. But I'm not angry at God. I don't think that some large, all knowning, all powerful guy, had it written in his plans that I would be a cripple for the rest of my life. I don't think that he had it planned for my girlfriend at the time to betray me. I don't think he planned for me to almost die. And if he did, then he's a fucking sadist, and he can quite frankly, fuck off and go to hell.
I don't blame God. I blame science. I blame medicine. I blame the idiots who thought I was only an addict looking for a score. I even blame myself sometimes, though I've stopped doing that more recently.
But science and medicine can't explain what happened to me. It was a minute, where I was dead, yet, I wasn't. My brain was still working, I suppose. I don't remember much of what I saw, save the fact that it was deathly quiet. Everything was still. I know that I wasn't hurting, because I could walk normally, and I did. I saw bits and pieces of my past flash in front of my eyes. It was like I was watching clips of a movie, they were a bit hazy, but I knew what they were. I felt like I was underwater, or in a haze. I don't remember having to breathe. I had, in that brief moment of time where I was dead, what I would honestly classify as a 'white-light' experience.
Science and medicine can't explain that. I can't explain that. I don't like the fact that I can't explain it either, because that's not who I am. I'm a doctor. I explain and fix things. It's what I do. But I can't explain that. And honestly? I don't want to try. Because this isn't just some test, and what happens, happens, and that's it.
Dr. Greg House
House
Word Count : 642 [Not counting text from episode 1x21, "Three Stories"]
[OOC Note: Anything in small italics isn't visible to muses, everything else is. Comments/RP welcome.]