Tips for a Healthier You
At his best, House's files were hopelessly disorganized and incomplete; the rest of the time, he simply didn't bother with them at all. Which meant that, of the records in the clinic, one of the best-kept was actually his patient file - since he'd never had anything to do with it.
When he'd found the paternity test in the clinic, he'd eventually just shoved it in his pocket, and after taking it out of his jeans before they went in the wash, it had ended up in the drawer by his bed. Which had begun to annoy him because every time he opened up the drawer to get a condom, there it was. And nothing killed a mood more than being randomly reminded of his father - or not-father, as the case may be.
He'd considered just throwing it away, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to do it - so instead he'd folded it up in his pocket and brought it to the clinic, where he'd pulled his file with the intent of just leaving it there. Seemed appropriate.
Glancing through his file was like a brief tour through The Worst Shit of the past few years. His broken hand when he'd punched the bed after finding out Jack had cheated on him. Notes about the times he'd gone through detox. Careful lists in Cuddy's handwriting of how much Vicodin he was rationed. A two-line description on a scratch sheet of paper, in Wilson's handwriting: "Cocaine overdose. Cardiac arrest."
He was just about to close the thing and thinking that he really needed a drink, when he got to the end and found a large sheet of paper, folded up. He pulled it out and unfolded it, revealing a list written in large, block letters in black marker... and he actually smiled. He'd forgotten that he'd put this in here, too pleased by his own handiwork to let it keep ending up in the trash, where it kept mysteriously appearing every time he'd tack it up in the clinic. Jesus, it was hard to believe that that was three years ago.
He smoothed out the crease marks and then pulled himself to his feet, grabbed some tape, and stuck it to the wall above him, surveying his handiwork. Most of it was still relevant, he thought. The list read:
TIPS FOR A HEALTHIER YOU
1. Do not feed the dinosaurs.
2. Do not go looking for the dinosaurs, take a walk amongst the dinosaurs, touch the dinosaurs, or basically do anything that might end in getting a limb ripped off.
3. Use birth control.
4. Do not carry a loaded firearm.
5. Do not be friends with someone who is carrying a loaded firearm.
6. Do not be enemies with someone who is carrying a loaded firearm.
7. Do not fight with knives unless you're sure you're going to win.
8. Do not touch the lightsabers unless you are a fully trained Jedi.
9. Jedi, please do not kill people.
10. Do not slit your wrists.
11. If you have a splinter, the tweezers are in the drawer on the far right.
12. If you have a headache, see a doctor.
13. If your headache is from a hangover, tough luck.
14. Use birth control.
15. Yes, that means condoms.
16. Do not fuck Richard Riddick's girlfriend.
... well, okay, maybe not all of it was still applicable.
When he'd found the paternity test in the clinic, he'd eventually just shoved it in his pocket, and after taking it out of his jeans before they went in the wash, it had ended up in the drawer by his bed. Which had begun to annoy him because every time he opened up the drawer to get a condom, there it was. And nothing killed a mood more than being randomly reminded of his father - or not-father, as the case may be.
He'd considered just throwing it away, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to do it - so instead he'd folded it up in his pocket and brought it to the clinic, where he'd pulled his file with the intent of just leaving it there. Seemed appropriate.
Glancing through his file was like a brief tour through The Worst Shit of the past few years. His broken hand when he'd punched the bed after finding out Jack had cheated on him. Notes about the times he'd gone through detox. Careful lists in Cuddy's handwriting of how much Vicodin he was rationed. A two-line description on a scratch sheet of paper, in Wilson's handwriting: "Cocaine overdose. Cardiac arrest."
He was just about to close the thing and thinking that he really needed a drink, when he got to the end and found a large sheet of paper, folded up. He pulled it out and unfolded it, revealing a list written in large, block letters in black marker... and he actually smiled. He'd forgotten that he'd put this in here, too pleased by his own handiwork to let it keep ending up in the trash, where it kept mysteriously appearing every time he'd tack it up in the clinic. Jesus, it was hard to believe that that was three years ago.
He smoothed out the crease marks and then pulled himself to his feet, grabbed some tape, and stuck it to the wall above him, surveying his handiwork. Most of it was still relevant, he thought. The list read:
TIPS FOR A HEALTHIER YOU
1. Do not feed the dinosaurs.
2. Do not go looking for the dinosaurs, take a walk amongst the dinosaurs, touch the dinosaurs, or basically do anything that might end in getting a limb ripped off.
3. Use birth control.
4. Do not carry a loaded firearm.
5. Do not be friends with someone who is carrying a loaded firearm.
6. Do not be enemies with someone who is carrying a loaded firearm.
7. Do not fight with knives unless you're sure you're going to win.
8. Do not touch the lightsabers unless you are a fully trained Jedi.
9. Jedi, please do not kill people.
10. Do not slit your wrists.
11. If you have a splinter, the tweezers are in the drawer on the far right.
12. If you have a headache, see a doctor.
13. If your headache is from a hangover, tough luck.
14. Use birth control.
15. Yes, that means condoms.
16. Do not fuck Richard Riddick's girlfriend.
... well, okay, maybe not all of it was still applicable.