[CLOSED TO CHASE] Never met a diagnostic study I couldn't refute.

[c18_h21_no3]

"Patient: Robert Clinton Laird, admitted with headache, stiff neck, cough, vomiting, and... seizures," House began reading, the folder Chase had slapped on his desk sitting cracked open on his thighs, propping his legs up on the glass table. Chase had paged him, telling him there was a case, but this was nothing. Two years here, and his ability to see a real damn case had seriously deteriorated to questionable, at least in House's mind.

House sighed, tossing the file next to his feet. "Acetominophen for the fever, IV fluids, phenobarbital for the seizures." He rolled his eyes, "It's meningitis. Come back and talk to me when you find an actual diagnostic emergency."