After talking to Delia, Reid did some research and found out as much about her condition as possible without either being a doctor, talking to a doctor or seeing her files. It didn't take much to find the right phone number and he didn't feel bad when he called the head psychiatrist at the institution
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"Even if I could do any damage in here, you'd just take away all of my precious privileges and why would I want that?" He snapped, and finally smiled when the nurse-slash-guard left him alone with the phone.
"Drag this conversation out twenty minutes and I'll send you some looney-bin goodies," he spoke into the receiver.
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He found a couple of words on the crossword puzzle he was doing before he spoke again. It only took a matter of a few seconds.
"I'll see what I can do. How do you feel?"
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He bit his lip, still tipping back precariously, only inches away from the ball.
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He filled in a couple more words on the crossword puzzle then decided he should just get to the point.
"I m-might have something interesting for you to do while you're there." Because they both knew a person like House (or Reid) could go crazy from boredom. "A c-case. Neurological. I know it's not your specialty but..."
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"I'm listening," he replied to Reid.
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He tossed the little green ball in his hand a few times. "Aww, crappy meninges. Okay, so she's about 25, no kids? If her symptoms are getting worse, she's probably a big fat fatty by now. Get her to actually stay on a regimented diet - that means no cheating and heading to Krispy Kreme for a late night dozen. Then let her keep popping pills and tell her to have a nice short life."
House threw the ball a little too hard and missed the catch, sending it bouncing everywhere, knocking over files and books and earning House a very stern look from his favorite orderly. He just grinned and shrugged.
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"She's not fat. Slender, average weight."
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"You want me to take this case? I'm going to need you to fax me as much medical history as you can get out of her - I don't want old stuff. If you really need to, put my staff at Princeton to work. I want an MRI and I'm assuming she's had regular ophthalmologic exams. I'll need those too." He was pretty sure Reid would follow his instruction - the man probably knew this patient and was calling in a favor for her. He'd want to help her get results.
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Reid figured if House wanted his own scans done, he'd arrange it or tell him how to arrange it and with who.
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He replaced the phone on the hook and hobbled to the door, pressed his mouth up against it and puffed his cheeks out. They wanted to put House in an institution? He'd act like he belonged.
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