(no subject)
House had been spending more time in the clinic lately, probably more in the past couple of months than in the rest of the year before that. As much as he hated to admit it, getting off the drugs was the best thing he could have done. Yes, his leg still hurt like hell, but at least he could think again. Maybe having Pam around helped too, though after what happened at New Year he was starting to wonder if she needed to have the same kind of reluctant realization that he had. Not that he would be the one pushing her to it. He wasn't that much of a hypocrite, and it seemed like her other friends had the intervention angle covered. He didn't mind being the person not judging her, even if he wasn't going to enable her killing herself.
In any case, he wasn't sure if he was spending more time playing doctor because he was bored, because he was trying to distract himself from the pain, or because he was miserable and just wanted to be more miserable. Because this sure as hell wasn't the kind of medicine he enjoyed. As stupid as it was, the little diagnosis brain teasers showing up in his mailbox from McCoy were the highlight of his medical career at the moment.
When he walked in and saw a figure in one of the clinic beds, he approached, grabbing the clipboard sitting on the foot of the bed and looking down at it. "Okay, so who are - " he began without looking up at the patient, but then blinked when, instead of seeing a patient file, there was just a note clipped to the board: "TO DOCTOR HOUSE."
Frowning, he lifted his gaze to the bed. It was empty. Well, okay, it wasn't empty, it just wasn't filled with a person. Well. A fake person.
It was, in fact, a medical dummy. A really nice one from the looks of it, a hell of a lot nicer than the ones he'd used in med school, and a hell of a lot less disquieting than a cadaver. (He had vague memories of botching a cath on both, but the cadaver caused a much bigger mess.)
TO DOCTOR HOUSE, said the note. Okay, so apparently this thing was his. It was, what, his post-winter gift? He got cool stuff, like a motorcycle and a guitar, and now this? He supposed it was supposed to be some sort of sign that he should actually take on a new class of medical students, an idea which he'd been kicking around and rejecting over and over again for the past few months. He stubbornly refused to acknowledge this.
"I don't suppose you double as a sex doll?" he asked the dummy, who of course remained silent.
In any case, he wasn't sure if he was spending more time playing doctor because he was bored, because he was trying to distract himself from the pain, or because he was miserable and just wanted to be more miserable. Because this sure as hell wasn't the kind of medicine he enjoyed. As stupid as it was, the little diagnosis brain teasers showing up in his mailbox from McCoy were the highlight of his medical career at the moment.
When he walked in and saw a figure in one of the clinic beds, he approached, grabbing the clipboard sitting on the foot of the bed and looking down at it. "Okay, so who are - " he began without looking up at the patient, but then blinked when, instead of seeing a patient file, there was just a note clipped to the board: "TO DOCTOR HOUSE."
Frowning, he lifted his gaze to the bed. It was empty. Well, okay, it wasn't empty, it just wasn't filled with a person. Well. A fake person.
It was, in fact, a medical dummy. A really nice one from the looks of it, a hell of a lot nicer than the ones he'd used in med school, and a hell of a lot less disquieting than a cadaver. (He had vague memories of botching a cath on both, but the cadaver caused a much bigger mess.)
TO DOCTOR HOUSE, said the note. Okay, so apparently this thing was his. It was, what, his post-winter gift? He got cool stuff, like a motorcycle and a guitar, and now this? He supposed it was supposed to be some sort of sign that he should actually take on a new class of medical students, an idea which he'd been kicking around and rejecting over and over again for the past few months. He stubbornly refused to acknowledge this.
"I don't suppose you double as a sex doll?" he asked the dummy, who of course remained silent.