Differential Diagnosis II [Closed to Chase, Wilson, Amber, Cameron, Foreman, and Cuddy]
Four new symptoms. Four new patients. Four less hours without a diagnosis.
The whiteboard was getting crowded.
Rob was deteriorating far too fast. At this rate, he'd be dead in two weeks, and that was with the best possible assumption, provided he didn't slip into a coma, which would cut that down to one, because Cut Throat Bitch let the idiot sign against an artificial prolonging of life exceeding 7 days.
The MRI yielded worse results than the x-ray Wilson did earlier. There was more fluid in his lungs. A lot more. The effusion filled up the bottom half of both pleural cavities. To top that off, the CT showed an inflammation of the meninges, with signs of increased intracranial pressure, but was not detailed enough to show why.
He erased the line through "Meningitis," taking a second to fill in the missing parts of the letters.
"Saving Private Ryan"
Headache
Cough
Stiff Neck
Sweating
Fever
Vomiting Blood
Chest Pain
Seizure
Hypotension
Tachycardia
Rash
Increased ICP
Pleural Effusion
Possible Diagnosis
Meningitis
Mesothelioma
Pertussis
J. Encephalitis *
Lassa Fever
House spun around, facing the other five doctors, plus Wilson this time. "Pleural effusion with tachycardia, increased ICP, and... rash. Not responsive to the interferon or the ribavirin, and the IV fluids are probably the only thing keeping him stable enough from crashing at this point. Lumbar puncture is out due to ICP, which means no cerebrospinal fluid for us from Private Pyle, so I want an LP from the Gay Times centerfold that was admitted two hours ago and the male nurse. Lymph biopsy from all three, if it hasn't been done already, which... I'm not sure why it wouldn't have been, but since none of you have results to show me, I'll assume you were all far too busy scratching your asses to do it. I want them all started on corticosteriods, and up the dosage on the soldier's anticonvulsants."
((ooc: Post order is Chase, Cuddy, Wilson, Amber, Cameron, Foreman, House.))
The whiteboard was getting crowded.
Rob was deteriorating far too fast. At this rate, he'd be dead in two weeks, and that was with the best possible assumption, provided he didn't slip into a coma, which would cut that down to one, because Cut Throat Bitch let the idiot sign against an artificial prolonging of life exceeding 7 days.
The MRI yielded worse results than the x-ray Wilson did earlier. There was more fluid in his lungs. A lot more. The effusion filled up the bottom half of both pleural cavities. To top that off, the CT showed an inflammation of the meninges, with signs of increased intracranial pressure, but was not detailed enough to show why.
He erased the line through "Meningitis," taking a second to fill in the missing parts of the letters.
"Saving Private Ryan"
Headache
Cough
Stiff Neck
Sweating
Fever
Vomiting Blood
Chest Pain
Seizure
Hypotension
Tachycardia
Rash
Increased ICP
Pleural Effusion
Possible Diagnosis
Meningitis
Mesothelioma
Pertussis
J. Encephalitis *
Lassa Fever
House spun around, facing the other five doctors, plus Wilson this time. "Pleural effusion with tachycardia, increased ICP, and... rash. Not responsive to the interferon or the ribavirin, and the IV fluids are probably the only thing keeping him stable enough from crashing at this point. Lumbar puncture is out due to ICP, which means no cerebrospinal fluid for us from Private Pyle, so I want an LP from the Gay Times centerfold that was admitted two hours ago and the male nurse. Lymph biopsy from all three, if it hasn't been done already, which... I'm not sure why it wouldn't have been, but since none of you have results to show me, I'll assume you were all far too busy scratching your asses to do it. I want them all started on corticosteriods, and up the dosage on the soldier's anticonvulsants."
((ooc: Post order is Chase, Cuddy, Wilson, Amber, Cameron, Foreman, House.))